We Open at the Close (Drarry)

Mrs Malfoy's Return

Draco checked his watch again, although no more than fifteen seconds could have passed since he last checked. Two minutes to go.

All the arrangements had been made— his father's body was ready to be interred in the Malfoy Estate alongside his ancestors, as per his instructions. His mother was due to arrive in (Draco checked his watch again) one minute. Despite the solemn circumstances, he was excited about seeing her again. It would be the first time they would meet since she had left for France, since Father had passed, since he and Harry had, well...

Thinking about Harry gave him a warm, fluttering feeling in his chest. He glanced at his watch— one minute to go —he'd have time to try again. He turned to check that nobody else was there before pulling out his wand.

"Expecto Patronum."

A small, wispy shield was emitted from his wand, almost invisible in the bright sunlight. Draco sighed— still no progress on the corporeal Patronus. He didn't understand what was holding him back. Harry said it was more psychological than magical, but Draco wasn't so sure. Resigning himself to try again later, he tucked his wand away and checked his watch again— thirty seconds.

The part he was most anxious about was yet to come, of course. He didn't expect the funeral to be particularly bothersome, he supposed there would only be himself and his mother in attendance. No, what was worrying him the most was a reintroduction some twenty-five years in the making. Andromeda had kindly offered to let Narcissa stay at her cottage, and she had— with a lot of persuasion from Draco — agreed, primarily because she had no other alternatives.

Draco glanced at his watch again and his heart started to race— less than ten seconds now —three, two, one...

There was a loud, whooshing sound and all the air surrounding Draco was sucked forward and concentrated on the empty space in front of him. A moment later, his mother appeared, looking more forlorn than usual and noticeably more tired than the last time they had met. He smiled at her and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Hello, Mother."

"Draco, darling," Narcissa sighed, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. He was at least a head taller than his mother even in her stilettos, and he had to stoop down to allow her to reach his cheek. She wiped the red lipstick mark off of his pale cheek with a gloved thumb, "We wouldn't want to make your suitors jealous, hmm?"

Draco picked up his mother's luggage without comment. They had managed to arrange for the Portkey to travel to the nearby village of Lostwithiel, which was only a short walk down a country road from Andromeda's cottage. Draco eyed his mother's towering heels.

"I can Apparate us straight to the cottage if you like?" he offered.

"No, I'd rather walk, thank you. I've missed the air of the English countryside," she said, head held high as she strode along the country path in her flowing black robes. "Also, I wanted to have a word with you before we arrive at our final destination."

Draco nodded. He had been writing regularly to his mother since she had left Britain, and her replies had been lengthy, but he knew her well enough that there were some things that she would only say to him in person.

"Will Mr Potter be at The Mill?" she asked lightly.

Draco felt his cheeks burn. "Not right now, no. He's doing some work for the Ministry today. He was going to join us later for dinner if that is acceptable?"

"It is not my house, so whether I think it is acceptable or not is of no consequence," she replied silkily.

Draco's grip on his mother's luggage tightened, but he said nothing. While his mother had appreciated Harry's testimony during their trial, evidently her opinion of him hadn't changed much.