What It Means

Disclaimer: Me no own; you no sue





 

Disclaimer: Me no
own; you no sue.

 

A/N: Okie dokie…had a
spell of writer’s block…but, thankfully, it has rescinded. This chapter is kind
of short and is just a kind of character based morning after type thing.
Still…it was fun to write. Thanks, as always, Jasmine…for being my muse.

 

Please read and
review.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12…………The
owl.

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Morning light crept
in and warmed Harry Potter’s face. On instinct, he groaned and stretched his
muscles, preparing for the inevitable opening of his eyes. After a moment, the
previous night came rushing back to him and he turned his head to find Draco
still sleeping soundly beside him. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced
his lips as he reached a hand out to touch the slightly tousled silky hair.
Resisting the urge to wake him, Harry slipped out of bed, cursing silently at
the icy bite of the December air. It took him a moment to find all of his
clothes, and when he did, he slipped them on and padded out to the kitchen.

 

He decided to make a
pot of coffee, as Draco might need it when he woke. It was only a he he had
been awake for nearly an hour, straightening and attempting to find something
suitable for breakfast, that he realized it was Christmas Day. His smile faded,
thinking of Draco. What a miserable way to spend Christmas.

 

‘Well…’ he thought. ‘At least he won’t
spend it alone.’

 

A tapping noise at
the window caught his attention. He instinctively knew it was an owl, flapping
and hooting while begging for entrance. Heading for the messenger, he thanked
Merlin that he’d had the sense to close the window when he cleaned the night
before.

 

Harry lee bie bird in
and winced when a gust of wind accompanied the owl into the room. He took the
parchment from her leg and examined the seal. The papers were from the Manor.
Taking a quick glance at the bedroom and finding that Draco was still asleep,
he pondered his options for a moment. He didn’t want to pry, or snoop through
Draco’s mail…yet…Harry had witnessed the letters Narcissa had sent her son, and
the effect they had on him. Harry wasn’t so sure Draco could handle that…not
today.

 

Swiping his coffee
mug from the counter and settling on the couch, Harry unrolled the parchment.
He was surprised to find several sheets rolled together. Most of them appeared
to be official documents of one form or another. One was a coroner’s report,
stating that Lucius had died of a coronary in his sleep. It was a small comfort
– that he had not suffered any pain. Dead was dead though…and Draco was still
without a father. Another one named Draco as the sole heir and now the official
head of the Malfoy house. That same document decreed Lucius’ wishes that Draco
handle his funeral and similar arrangements. This caused Harry to worry. This
was going to be a lot for Draco to deal with…even if the gesture was somewhat
endearing on Lucius’ part.

 

Flipping to the next
paper,ry’sry’s eyes went wide. It was a letter to Draco from his father, dated
two days after Draco had left the Manor. Harry fought the urge to read it and
slipped it to the back of the pile. He rolled the parchment back up and had
just set the documents on the coffee table when Draco padded out of the
bedroom, looking more than morose.

 

Immediately, Harry
thrust his own cup of coffee into the boy’s hands and slid over to make room
for him. Draco sat down, clad only in a pair of pajama pants. The two rested in
each other’s silence for a long time – Harry keeping a watchful eye on Draco
and Draco keeping his eyes firmly rooted to his mug. When he had at last
emptied the contents, he leaned forward and placed the dishware on the table.
It was then that he noticed the parchment. Reaching trembling fingers toward
the rolled up papers, Draco stilled a moment before grasping them.

 

“Is this from my
family?”

 

Harry couldn’t find
his voice, so he nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on Draco and ready to react in
a split second should he break down again.

 

Steeling himself,
Draco reached out and took hold of the documents awaiting him. His eyes scanned
over the first…the coroner’s report. Harry watched as pale features scrunched
up for a brief moment, but quickly relaxed. He wanted badly to ask Draco a
barrage of questions, but fought against it. He continued to watch the new head
of the Malfoy house sort through the documents, pausing frequently, yet never
losing face.

 

After what had seemed
like an eternity, he finally came to the letter from his father. Like Harry,
Draco’s eyes became huge and the Gryffindor could see the emotion flowing
through the other boy like poison in his veins. Draco let out a soft gasp and
his hand came up to cover his mouth, the parchment slipping though his fingers
and floating silently to the floor. He was still for a while and Harry noticed
when he shivered, his skin raising in protest to the chill of the morning. Glad
to finally have *some* way to help, Harry quickly scrambled into the bedroom to
sweep the blanket off the bed and drape it over Draco’s shoulders.

 

When Draco had
finally been under the quilt long enough to get warm, he shrugged it from his
shoulders and bent down to pick up his letter. Heading away from the couch,
Draco finally noticed that his flad bed been repaired. He’d have to thank Harry
later…the boy really was too good to him. He had, however, more pressing
matters on his mind. Harry worried that he might be headed for the bar, but
sighed in relief when Draco stopped and sat on the piano bench instead. Slowly,
he lifted the letter and began to read. Harry was surprised with how well Draco
kept his composure – only letting a few small whimpers escape his lips and a
solitary tear slide down his alabaster cheek. Torn between wanting to give
Draco his privacy and the urge to comfort him, Harry lingered a few meters
away…simply watching.

 

At last when Draco
had finished, he placed the letter atop the piano and began to lazily press the
keys. The sound was definitely musical, if not very organized. Harry doubted it
was any actual tune at all. Crossing the distance between the two of them, he
slid onto the bench next to Draco.

 

“That song you were
playing last night…what was it?”

 

Draco let out a long
breath. “Nocturne in F minor…Chopin…”

 

“…oh…” Harry didn’t
know much about classical music, although he did thoroughly enjoy it.

 

“It was his
favorite…he used to take time out of his day to have me play it for him.”
Draco’s misted eyes seemed to go unfocused for a moment and a small smile
played upon his lips as he reflected on the memory. “I know that doesn’t sound
like much…it mit meant the world to me…”

 

Harry placed his hand
gingerly on Draco’s knee. “Play it…for me? I’d like to hear it…really hear
it…this time…”

 

With a sigh, Draco
placed his manicured and sumptuous fingers on the keys and began the slow, sad
melody. After a moment, his eyes drifted shut and soon the pace and volume
picked up and Harry recognized the tune as the one Draco had been playing in an
almost trance like state the night before. He played beautifully – and it
wasn’t just his skill that made it so. Draco had a spirit to him when his fingers
graced the pads of ebony and ivory; he was playing from somewhere deep within
himself. It was only after Draco had finished that Harry took any notice of the
wetness on his cheeks. Whether it was the piano aria or the events of the last
two days that brought him to tears, Harry could not discern. All he knew was
that he had a sudden tightness in his chest, followed byarm arm release, and
the need to just…let it all go.

 

Draco, noticing
Harry’s state, reached over to wipe a tear from underneath his eye. “Harry…”

 

Harry held his hand
up. “Don’t”

 

Draco persisted. “I
think we should…”

 

“We should what
Draco? Talk? Why? Because it’s the right thing to do the morning after? I
didn’t come here to sleep with you…I came to be here for you…and to help you.
And I think I did…” Harry paused and chuckled a bit. “…help y mea mean. I don’t
expect anything from you…and can you honestly tell me you really want to deal
with any of this right now?”

 

Looking at the
ground, Draco shook his head. Harry lifted his chin and smiled at him, his warm
green eyes still glassy from shed tears. “It’s okay…”

 

Harry led Draco to
the sofa and sat him down before promptly bringing in two more fresh cups of
coffee. Sitting on the opposite side of the couch, mirroring Draco with his
back against the armrest; their feet met in the center, hidden under the
blanket draped across their legs. After having settled, it was Draco who spoke
first.

 

“I have no idea how
I’m going to plan his funeral…”

 

Harry looked a bit
shocked. “So you’re going to do it then?”

 

“He wanted me to…”

 

“I would help you…but
I don’t have a clue either…”

 

Draco sighed. “It’s
quite alright…this is something I have to do for myself anyway…”

 

Silence…not
uncomfortable…but still heavy…hung over them a moment.

 

Draco broke the stillness
with an odd look that Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on the blonde’s face.

 

“Would you like to
read the letter?”

 

Blinking, Harry
resisted the urge to scoop it up and read it immediately. “No…Draco.
That’s…private, isn’t it?”

 

Sweeping the parchment
from the table, he handed it to Harry. “Yes…it is. But I’d like…no…I *need* you
to read it…just to be sure I haven’t gone insane…”

 

Slowly, Harry lowered
his eyes to the elegant scrawl of the late Malfoy senior. “If you’re sure…”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

Harry began to read…

 

Draco,

 

If you are reading this, I have expired, and
we have not reconciled. I shudder to think of how many years have most likely
passed by the time this letter reaches your hands. I may even burn it before it
the time comes. Obviously…if you are reading than I have done no such thing. I
am regretful, at times, of the way you were brought up. I tried to do my best
and never doubt my intentions when remembering some of the hard lessons you
have learned from me. You have been gone from my home for a slight less than
forty eight hours now, and your absence can ady bdy be felt. Perhaps it is not
your physical absence, but the finality with which you chose to leave that
makes these halls seem empty now. I will never have told you these things…I do
not know how. But now, my son, I will try.

 

I hope that you never return here. I cannot
accept you as you are – my breeding and emotional stagnancy will not allow it.
Be that as it may, I pray that you stay as far away from this family as
possible, avoiding my fate and finding some semblance of happiness. I cannot
give that to you, and so gone from me you must remain.

 

I took great joy in raising you. As a child
you were difficult at times; this was due largely to me. However, I will always
be fond of knowing that I fulfilled my duties to you, to the best of my
ability. When I was able, I took full advantage of the time I had with you; to
teach you to be a man. You have become a fine man, Draco. Perhaps this is
because of, or in spite of me. I prefer to think of it as the result of both.

 

I did love your mother. Narcissa and I were
never a storybook couple. We met not in romance, but in obligation. There was a
time; however, that I could have said I loved her…as much as I am capable of
such an emotion. Whether she ever loved me will always remain a mystery to me,
I suppose.

 

Know this, my son. You have my respect, and my
pride. How ironic that it is the wounds to tsamesame pride that keeps us
separated now. It is your defiance of me that reminds me that I did not fail
you as a father, as my father failed me. I cannot be certain that I have ever
known true love, of any form. However, you, my son, remain in my thoughts…my
heart as well.

 

Your Father,

 

Lucius Malfoy.

 

 

Again, Harry found
himself near tears. He could never, in
his wildest dreams, imagine *any* emotion coming from Draco’s father. Then
again…he could have said the same for Draco not so long ago. Finding no need to
discuss the letter, Harry merely nodded his head at Draco to affirm that the message
had, indeed, contained those words of endearment.

 

After another long
moment, Harry sniffed and looked Draco in the eye, smiling slightly. “It’s
Christmas Day, you know.”

 

Draco’s gaze lingered
away, and out the window as a few crystal snowflakes broke free and floated
down. “I’d forgotten…”

 

Harry also turned his
gaze to the window and the fresh snow dancing its way toward earth. “I’d like
to stay here with you today…”

 

Their tones were flat
and soft…it was as if they had been discussing a novel or some other subject of
mundane interest. Draco blinked and felt a leg rest against his own underneath
the blanket.

 

“…yes…I’d like that
too…”

 

It was as if time had
stopped for a while. Complete serenity encased the room, chasing away the
chill, and the loneliness – even if only for a moment. Harry leaned back and
settled into his spot on the sofa, warm and safe.

 

“Tell me about him.”

 

Draco looked taken
aback. “Eh?”

 

“I didn’t know your
father at all…come to think of it, it doesn’t really sound like anyone did. But
I’m sure you come the closest. Tell me about him…I’d like to know, and I’m sure
you’ve never really been able to just remember everything…”

 

It took Draco a
moment to process the opportunity he had been given, but when it hit him, his
eyes lit up, and Harry knew he had asked the right question. Soon, he found
himself smiling inwardly as Draco became animated once more, describing the man
he had measured all others by, and most likely would throughout all of his
days.

 

******************************************************************

TBC

 

Okay…I know this
chapter was kind of pointless in the grand scheme of things…but I *loved*
writing it. I had *severe* writer’s block for a while (as I’m sure you noticed)
and this just snapped me right out of it.

 

Anyways, like I said,
I loved writing this…the character development and the emotion. So PLEASE
please please review and tell me what you think!

 

Writer’s block is
officially gone now, so you can expect the next chapter soon. Next up, we have
the funeral…oh joy. Oh and Michael is back next chapter too. We’re on the home
stretch hpeoppeople.

 

Thanks so much for
reading…and sticking with me though this.

 

Love and Kisses,

 

Reika