I sank onto the sofa and closed my eyes, savoring the brilliance of a few moments of rest. Perhaps I could sneak in a lie down. Oh yes, that sounded perfect. It was quiet- blissfully silent, a phenomenon that hadn't occurred since the children came home for their hols. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled they were home, but it seemed that I hadn't had a moment to myself all week. After months of carping about how boring it was without them, I found myself in the unenviable position of having to admit I'd adjusted just the teensiest bit to an empty house.
James and Al had gone over to Ron and Hermione's for the day, and Harry had been called off to York for some sort of investigation about black-marketing. It was just me and Lily, and she was upstairs sorting through the avalanche of blouses, frocks, and skirts she'd gotten for Christmas. For a girl that wore uniforms three quarters of the year, she had enough clothes to attire an army of preteens for months without repeating an outfit- I had a miniature clotheshorse on my hands. I dreaded the day she discovered the joy of shoes and handbags. She'd likely bankrupt us all.
"Mum! Mummy, come up here for a minute! I need your opinion."
I sighed. So much for that lie down. "Whatever it is, sweetheart, bring it down here. I'm in the sitting room," I called back.
She came bounding down the stairs with an armful of clothes that she dumped on my feet. Brat.
Pirouetting in front of me in the lovely moss green party frock my mother had given her for Christmas, Lily looked concerned. "What do you think? Does it make me look sallow? I love the color, Mum, but I think it washes me out."
Three guesses as to what field my youngest child would end up in someday. "No, Lils, you look very pretty. The color is perfect with your hair."
She tossed the hair in question and sighed impatiently. She looked like she was a nanosecond from tapping a dainty foot impatiently. "I know it goes with my hair, Mummy. Does it make my skin sallow?"
God save me from little girls. I took a moment to appreciate the fact that Harry and I had stopped after three children- all I had to do was make it through one girl's teenage years. "No, Lily," I said patiently. "It doesn't wash you out. It makes your skin glow. You're radiant. Your grandmum has excellent instincts on how to dress redheads." Inwardly, I thought that was only because she'd had so much practice at putting her own children through every color gingers shouldn't wear. God knows Ron and I had enough awful magenta and orange Christmas jumpers from our youth to attest to that fact. Either that or she was paying us back all those years for being unspeakable brats to her.
Smoothing her skirt, she preened. "Right. Hold on then, let me go change into the dress Auntie Fleur gave me. You can tell me how I look in that, too." She scampered out of the room, snatching a pale champagne frock from the pile on my feet as she went.
Idly clicking through to a 'Coronation Street' rerun on the telly, I wondered when I'd stopped being a mother and morphed into a bloody talking mirror.
"For the last time, Lily, we are not Flooing your Aunt Fleur again. She's already promised to take you and Rose out for a cream tea at Claridge's; pestering her is very, very rude."
My darling daughter slumped onto a kitchen chair and stared at her hands morosely. "But that's a whole week away, Mummy. I want to wear one of my pretty new dresses sooner." In a gesture I knew she'd swiped from me at my dictatorial best, she held up one finger to ward off my anticipated response. "Please don't say 'it's only a few days', Mum. I know that, but it feels like forever. Can't we do something today, just the two of us?" Warming to her subject, she raised pleading hazel eyes to me. "You know, like a mother-daughter bonding event?"
"Lily Potter! Have you been sneaking your Aunt Hermione's psychology manuals?" Good Christ. She was eleven going on thirty and it was entirely possible she'd gotten some sort of supercharged Weasley manipulation gene. I blame Fred. Curse you, Fred Weasley. I know you're floating about somewhere having a great laugh over this. Wait 'til I die and get my hands on you. You'll be begging to reincarnate as a dung beetle just to get away from me.
The little brat grinned unrepentantly. "Nope; Rosie and I found a relationship guide in the kitchen. She explained most of it to me, but it did have a section on the mother-daughter bond and the importance of sharing interests."
I threw my hands in the air. "All right, all right. I give up. What would you like to do?"
The squeal of victory made me chuckle. How a child of mine (and Harry's, for that matter) could get so giddy over the thought of parading about town in a pretty frock was beyond me. After hugging me tight enough to move my spleen a few inches to the right, Lily exclaimed, "Ooh, how about lunch at Madam Porter's?"
Hmm. A bit pretentious, but the place did make an éclair that was so good it felt like David Tennant had walked out of the telly and snogged your face off. And yes, thank you, I fancy David Tennant quite a bit. "Madam Porter's is fine, love. I'll call and reserve a table while you get ready, but-" She was already scrambling for the stairs. "Lily!" When she'd obligingly slid to a stop, I added, "Before we go to lunch, we've got to stop over at Draco Malfoy's home a moment. I've a double batch of biscuits to deliver that I promised him."
"'S all right, Mum. He's nice enough." She flew up the stairs, calling back, "And don't forget to put on some lipstick!"
I grimaced and reached for the phone to make the reservation. The really sad part is that I probably would have forgotten if she hadn't mentioned it.
"Hello?" I swiveled my head in the grate, peering through the greenish flames. "Anyone about? Draco?"
Fabric swished a moment before a lovely older blond woman sank to her knees in front of the hearth. "This is the Malfoy residence. May I help you?"
Ooh, formal. And slightly snooty. Must be the doting mama herself- Narcissa Malfoy. I unconsciously straightened the hemline of the dress Lily insisted I wear. "Yes, thank you. I'm Ginny Potter. Draco had asked me to stop by to drop off something for him today. Is he in, by chance?"
She frowned prettily, a curtain of long, straight blond hair swinging around her. You could run my hair over with a street paver and it still wouldn't be that straight. It's quite irritating to have hair that is neither straight nor curly. Red hair that just fuzzes up is what I got. Hence, my signature plait. Can't fuzz through a plait, I always say. Well, unless you're Hermione, but her hair's willpower would have reduced Stalin to a quivering lapdog.
"Hem hem!" Narcissa sat back on her heels. "I believe our connection went bad for a moment, since you didn't respond."
"Yes!" I latched onto her statement with gratitude, even though I suspected she knew damn well I had just wandered off mentally. "Bad connection; I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. Would you please repeat what you said?"
With a small twitch of her lips, she eyed me for a long moment. "Draco is indeed at home. He's been closed up in his study all morning attending to business, but he mentioned the possibility of your visiting at breakfast. If you'd like to Apparate in, I'll set the wards for you."
This woman could give the Queen a run for her money in coldly polite speech. "Sorry, but my daughter will be with me, and she can't Apparate yet and gets dreadful headaches from Side-Along. Is it possible for us to Floo over? Otherwise, I'll need driving directions to your home."
She did prettily bewildered well, I'll give her that. "Driving directions? As in an automobile? Frankly, Mrs. Potter, I'm not sure either Draco or I could provide that for you. I don't believe we even have a house number or street." She sighed. "I suppose you'll have to Floo." Surprise surprise. Narcissa Malfoy made Flooing sound like digging through the refuse bin behind a Chinese restaurant.
I clapped my hands once. "Great. Is twenty minutes from now all right with you?"
She nodded once. "Very good, Mrs. Potter. We'll see you then."
I don't know quite what I expected from Malfoy Manor, but from the one instance Harry talked about his time there when Voldemort was still kicking about, I remember him saying that it was dark and cold and imposing.
It was certainly imposing, with a gleaming foyer and rotunda that was almost big enough to turn into a basketball court, but the whole area was filled with light. A large window over the double entrance let in streams of sunshine that were refracted by the gorgeous chandelier overhead. I had the fleeting thought that, much like a cartoon, they could drop the whole crystal concoction down on unwanted visitors' heads. Massive arrangements of flowers perched on every horizontal surface, making cold and unwelcoming an impossibility- no, it was more like a gentile take on what a jungle made out of flowers would look like. I found, much to my shock, that I liked the feel of the place. The fireplace on one side was immense, and the only thing I could think of was that you could roast a whole cow in the thing.
"Mrs. Potter. Welcome to Malfoy Manor." Narcissa stood with her hands folded at her waist with her lovely mauve robes floating gracefully around her. I was suddenly glad Lily had convinced me to wear the chic little dress I had on. "And this must be your daughter."
"Lily, this is Narcissa Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy's mother." I clutched the tin of biscuits in my hands. Why on earth was I standing in Malfoy Manor? I should have just Owled the damn biscuits over.
Narcissa moved forward to take Lily's hand. "What a lovely frock, Miss Potter."
Lily preened. "Thank you. It was a Christmas gift from my aunt." She eyed the older woman. "Your robes are amazing. Where did you get them?"
I cringed and waited for Narcissa to chastise Lily for asking such an impertinent question, but she surprised me by throwing her head back and letting out a peal of laughter. "Twillfoot and Tatting's ordered them in for me from New York. When I saw them in the catalogue, I just fell in love."
Lily eyed them rapturously. "Oh yes, I can see why. The color is perfect for you."
Narcissa met my gaze with an indulgent smile. "She's lovely, Mrs. Potter. You must be very proud." When I nodded, she turned gracefully and said, "Please follow me. I'll take you directly to Draco's study."
I had expected a good twenty-minute walk down countless ridiculously tasteful corridors, but Narcissa only led us past an airy sitting room and down a short hallway, stopping at the third door on the left. With a smart rap of her knuckles on the heavy wooden frame, she stepped aside and smiled politely until Draco’s muffled voice shouted, “What?”
“You have visitors, darling,” she replied serenely, as if her son had not just snapped at her for simply knocking.
Standing there, I was starting to feel vaguely uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by and the door didn’t open. When the sounds of a muffled crash followed by very creative cursing floated through the door, I swear I saw one of Narcissa’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arch and her lips tilt to one side in an amused smirk.
Draco appeared in the doorframe, a quickly reddening splotch on one cheek.
Peering closer, it looked like the imprint of his watch. Ah. The other signs were all there as well- heavy eyes, slightly mussed hair, soft mouth. I bet his voice would be husky, as well.
“Oh,” he said, running a hand down his shirtfront. “Ginny! I didn’t expect you today.”
Husky voice. Check. Draco Malfoy had been sneaking a kip in his study. I was suddenly very envious, seeing as how Lily had forced me to abandon my own plans for a midday lie-down. “No, it appears you didn’t,” I responded, my tongue tucked firmly in my cheek. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Narcissa’s smirk widen. She was apparently in on the secret as well. I hoisted the biscuit tin. “I brought you-”
“Biscuits!” Draco crowed in delight, snatching the tin from my hands without even a hint of manners. He had pried the lid off and had a butterhorn halfway to his mouth before Narcissa’s disapproving sniff forced him to a sheepish halt. “Erm, thank you?” he offered meekly.
Lily giggled, and I was tempted to join her. He looked less like a man and more like a naughty boy in that moment than I ever remembered him looking, even back at school. Oh, if only he hadn’t been such a git back at Hogwarts.
Narcissa snatched the tin from him with surprising speed. “Shall I just order lunch then, Draco?” she asked imperiously, as if daring him to take a bite of the biscuit he was eyeing with such longing. “If you are that famished, I don’t see why we can’t eat slightly early today.”
Heaving a sigh, he leaned over to her and tucked the treat back in with the others. “No, Mother, the normal time is fine. I can wait.”
With an approving nod, Narcissa patted his arm. “I expect you’ll want to thank Mrs. Potter and Lily for their kind gift, Draco.” She smiled at us and I suddenly wondered why Harry and Ron always said the woman was such a brutally cold bitch; she seemed rather nice, if a bit formal. “Mrs. Potter. Lily, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintances,” she said before turning to float back down the hallway.
Draco waved us inside with one last longing glance at the container his mother was carrying away. “Come on in.”
The study was painfully masculine, filled with old leather furniture, dark wood and hunter green fabric on the wainscoted walls. I half expected a pipe-toting, breeches-wearing lord of old to jump out at us and shout, “I say!” The thought made me smile, but as soon as I imagined Draco as that character, the smile ballooned into a full-blown grin.
“Wow,” Lily breathed, moving over to the completely filled bookshelves.
An item on his desk caught my attention instead. “A computer?” I asked, disbelieving my own eyes. “Draco Malfoy, of the I-hate-Muggles Malfoys, has a computer?”
With the imprint of his watch still clearly on his pale face, Draco looked torn between amusement and annoyance. “Yes, Potter, a computer. If I want to monitor my investments with any sort of timeliness, I need the internet.” He shrugged eloquently at my look, which I’m sure shaded towards flabbergasted. “I like to dabble.”
“How was your kip?” I asked, grinning again. “You know, in between monitoring all of your investments?”
The git didn’t even have the good grace to flush; he simply shrugged again and said in a maddeningly normal voice, “All right, though I had planned to sleep until lunch was announced.” His eyes twinkled. “Not that I don’t appreciate your charming company instead.”
“Rough life, Malfoy,” I shot back.
“Don’t I know it.” He swept a hand towards a set of overstuffed leather chairs. “May I offer you a-”
BANG! The door burst open with a resounding crash.
A half-sized replica of the man who’d made my soon-to-be ex husband’s life miserable at Hogwarts shot into the room with as little regard as either of my boys would have done, and I idly admired the cushioning charm attached to the doorstop. Bloody marvelous idea, that. Imagine all the dings and dents in my walls that could have been averted with the simple magicking-up of a doorstop. Huh. Guess I’m not as clever as I’d thought.
“Mum!”
I really need to work on my attention span- it’s appallingly short for a full-grown witch. “Yes, Lils?” Even Draco was looking at me with an amused smirk hiding around the corners of his mouth.
Lily’s ears pinkened, a sure sign she was annoyed. Well, tough. She was eleven- she’d just have to realize that-
“Please may I go see them?” She was practically dancing in place. The last time she’d been this excited was when Hermione took her and Rose off to Topshop for her first sale.
Draco cut in. “Where are they, Scorpius?” he asked, taking a moment to look over his shoulder out the window. “Not in the Wood, I hope. I’ve warned you a number of times about going in there without me or your grandfather.”
The boy’s pale cheeks flushed. Mmm hmm. Ten Sickles said that’s exactly where whatever we were discussing was. “But they’re right by the edge, Dad. You can see them from the Purple Garden, I swear.”
“Only if your grandfather accompanies you.” Draco folded his arms and put on his version of the quelling face every parent adopted eventually. “As unusual and exciting as a unicorn with a new foal is, they’re still magical creatures that can hurt children. If your grandfather says yes, then you may go.”
Lily’s eyes began to sparkle. “Me too, Mum? I get to go see them, right?” She was already reaching for the plain black cloak Draco’s son was holding out to her.
Well, bugger. Newborn unicorn? Amazing opportunity to see. Allowing my only daughter to go see said amazing sight with only Lucius ‘I’m-a-former-Dark-Acolyte-that-likes-to-slip-little-girls-possessed-diaries’ Malfoy to escort her? Not bloody likely. “It’s all right, Draco. I’ll take them. I’d like to see the foal, too.”
He smirked at me, full on. He knew exactly what was going through my head, I’d wager anything on it. “He’s quite mellow in his old age, Ginny. I can assure you that he’ll keep her perfectly safe.”
Scorpius had taken the opportunity to yank open the door and bellow down the hall, “GRANDFATHER! Grandfather, are you down here? I NEED YOUR HELP!”
I’ve faced Lucius Malfoy over the wrong end of a wand, and let me tell you, it was damned gratifying to see the almost-always composed man skid into the room with hair in his eyes and wand at the ready. “What, Scorpius? What’s wrong?”
I did my level best not to laugh as the story came tumbling out, but I think I may have popped a blood vessel in the attempt. Big bad wizard, my arse. He looked as thoroughly put out as my own father would have been if he’d been called in the same manner. I guess even former Death Eaters have nightmares about their family’s wellbeing.
Lucius kept sneaking quick looks at me as he smoothed his disheveled robes into place. “Of course, Scorpius,” he drawled, his oily tones as gratingly formal as ever. “I’d be happy to accompany you and young Miss Potter here down to the Wood.” He hesitated just a bit at ‘Potter’, just enough for me to give him a hard look.
“I’d really feel more comfortable if I go along, Draco,” I said, never taking my eyes off Lucius. “I’m sure you can appreciate my position.”
The two men shared a long look before Lucius walked right up to me and took my hand. Suppressing the urge to draw said hand back and slug him in the mouth was a testament to my spectacular levels of self-control, I say. “I can assure you, Mrs. Potter, I’ll guard the children with my life. I’m prepared to make a vow for her safety, if it would set your fears to rest. I’ve… changed, as have my priorities.”
Well. A vow? Blimey, that was much more than I would ever expect from this man. I wasn’t about to trust him, though. “I really would like to see the foal, though, Draco.”
Waving his wand, he summoned cloaks for himself and his father, as well as a very pretty blue one for me. “All right,” he agreed equably. “Why don’t we all go then? I could do with a bit of fresh air.”
And just like that, I found myself bundled up in what was undoubtedly one of Narcissa Malfoy’s expensive designer cloaks, tromping across a frosty lawn with Draco Malfoy, watching my child skip happily along next to Lucius Malfoy, who was regaling her with a tale of a red-haired maiden who was befriended by a unicorn. To put it as crudely as Ron would, I was fucking staggered. It’s as if I tripped into an alternate dimension. All that was missing was Narcissa suggesting a game of flamingo croquet. Bloody Malfoys.
“I just came to drop off your biscuits,” I hissed to Draco. “And I can’t believe I’m letting your father within ten feet of Lily. Harry would murder me if he ever found out.”
That certainly delighted Draco, who grinned at me, his cheeks flushed an appealing pink in the biting air. “Potter always was pig-headed. I mean it, Ginny; my father wouldn’t harm a ginger hair on your daughter’s head. He’s spent the last twenty years trying to atone for our… involvement with the Dark Lord.”
I scowled. Even after all these years, hearing him referred to as ‘the Dark Lord’ set my teeth on edge. “It’s Voldemort, Draco. I refuse to give his name power anymore, and the fact is that your father slaughtered innocent men, women and children. I can forgive what you did because you were still just a boy following his father’s beliefs, too scared to do otherwise. Your father caused worlds more pain and suffering than you ever did, and seeing Lily walk with him has every hair on my body standing on end.”
Hands flexing, I sincerely considered calling her back and leaving immediately. Draco’s long, cool fingers wrapped around my wrist and forced me to a quick halt. His grey eyes, normally a pale, colorless shade, were as dark as the North Sea in a winter squall.
“You don’t have to trust my father, Ginny- he’s never given you any reason to, and you don’t have to like him. But I know you like me, and I would hope that you’ll at least trust me. My father will not harm Lily.”
Damn his skinny, sincere arse. For a man that had been an insufferable prick as a boy, he had the appealing, wide-eyed boyish look down to a science. Hell, he could give James lessons, and James could be a manipulative little snot when he put his mind to it. I huffed, sending my carefully brushed and charmed hair flying every which way. Bugger- that charm had taken ten minutes to get right. “Look, Draco, I’ll give you credit where it’s due, but she’s my child, my baby. What if your father has an aneurysm or a psychotic break or something and –oops!- there goes my daughter? He could be seconds from utter psychological meltdown and I’m standing here watching you pull sad puppy faces at me.”
He laughed. “If anyone is tripping the edge of a meltdown, Potter, my Galleons are on you. You’re utterly batty.”
Grabbing my chin, he turned our faces together towards the edge of the Purple Garden, where Lucius was flanked by the children, one of their hands in each of his.
“Ooh, peacocks!” Lily squealed delightedly as one strolled by, his tail fanned like a pompous courtier of old. Her little freckle-sprinkled face lit even further as Lucius pointed quietly towards a glimmering unicorn and her grey foal just inside the tree line.
Merlin’s saggy, dingy shorts. I’d seen that look on Lily’s face before- she’d found the newest object of her affections. I’d be hearing about all of Lucius Malfoy’s wonderful qualities all through lunch. Pardon my French, but- Fuck. I stabbed a finger into Draco’s chest, slightly mollified by the highly undignified oof! he let out. “Just remember, I’m holding you responsible for the fallout, Malfoy. And if she starts sighing over how blond his hair is, I’m simply going to blow you into little bitty pieces and Obliviate my daughter.”
His haughty look was a little wobbly around the edges, but he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and forced me to walk towards the little group. “If it makes you happy, Potter, go ahead and try. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re lying on my floor trussed up like Andromeda for the sea monster Cetus.” Draco’s lips stretched into a wicked smile. “I’m fairly certain I could take you in a duel.”
Ha! I’d like to see him try. Smug git. Maybe he hadn’t changed so much after all, I mused, casting him a sidelong glance as Lily cooed over the unicorns.
Author notes:
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