Empty Spaces

Chapter 44

So Draco remained quiet, keeping his own thoughts safely to himself, revealing little more than was absolutely necessary. Afternoon gave way to evening, and he excused himself to his room, drafting his letter to Harry and wondering what tomorrow would bring.

He would give it a week. One week to take care of her and talk with her team of healers and make sure she would be okay on her own because he had no plans to return anytime soon once he left again. One week to be by her side, listening to what she had to say because at the end of the day, she was his mother. She could donate the entirety of the Malfoy fortune to her ridiculous Society; she could talk his ear off about her views on bloodlines; she could wish for her grandchild until the end of time and Draco would still love her regardless because that's what love is. Loving someone without conditions, not despite them.

But could Narcissa feel the same?

Dawn broke and Draco put on his Malfoy mask once more, descending the grand staircase and entering the drawing room where his mother was already giving instructions to the latest team of Malfoy servants. Housekeepers, they were officially called, but Draco knew better. He wasn't sure whether to feel relief or dismay: On the one hand, Narcissa certainly seemed to be coming back into her old life, the life she had before the war; on the other, had the war revealed nothing to her about the life she'd led...? It certainly opened Draco's eyes, although truth be told, he'd already had his doubts years before then, doubts that began mostly when a certain pair of green eyes entered his eleven-year-old life...

"Ah, Draco, my son," Narcissa dismissed her staff and glided across the parlor to the bottom of the stairs. "What a lovely sweater, is this new? It looks marvelous on you, dear... what is the company? It looks like a Gladrags, from this year's winter collection? Excellent taste, as always, my love..."

Draco bit back the remark in his head about how it was his Muggle-born friend who picked it out and his Muggle-raised boyfriend who gifted it to him, but he held his tongue and simply nodded his agreement. It was his favorite sweater, after all. Narcissa simply went on, showing Draco around the Manor and going over her plans for improving the place, bringing light and color and life to it once more. All the while, Draco wondered how on earth he could reach beyond the barriers of her views, drilled into her since birth... what would she do if she knew who her son really was...?

She seems happier now, Draco wrote to Harry that night, It is enough for me to be happy that she is happy. Does it matter how she gets there? She is my mother, and her happiness is all I've ever wanted for her...

The second day saw the departure of all but one of the St Mungo's healers. They would now visit in turns, reassuring Draco that Narcissa was showing excellent progress; that they would continue to help her and monitor her for any signs of regression. Not wanting to leave her entirely alone, Draco headed to the Ministry office early, before Healer Quinn left for the evening. Narcissa had her hired help, sure, but Draco knew that the loyalty of galleons only stretched so far. She needed to be around people he could trust, which was a painfully short list.

"Draco Malfoy, filing a mandatory probationary report," he said flatly to the wizard at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement office. How many times had he said these same, stupid words to various bored-looking people all year long??

"Ah, yes, Master Malfoy."

Draco was immediately suspicious– this wizard was far too courteous, far too interested.

"I've spent the day at the Malfoy Manor," Draco said, now scrutinizing the man for any reaction. "I arrived yesterday afternoon, and have been residing there since with no movements otherwise."

"I see," the man nodded with a smile that had Draco putting this man– Blair Ironbark , according to the nameplate, on his mental watchlist. "What brings you back home, Master Malfoy?"