What It Means

Disclaimer: nope…don’t ask





Disclaimer:
nope…don’t ask.

 

A/N: Here is chapter
14…as promised. A lot happens here so I’m sorry if it confuses anyone…like I
said, my brain malfunctions sometimes. I hope you like it. It’s the first of
the final 3…and like I said…*trust me*. Although…I’m sure Satan said the same
thing…muhahahaha.

 

Thanks to Liz and
Jasmine. My chicas.

 

 

Chapter 14…………New
discoveries and old comforts.

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

 

Nostalgia…they call
it. The scent instantly transported Draco back to his childhood; sitting in the
gardens and feeling so small against the expanse of the grounds. He could
almost feel the elation of his youth, walking with his Father to dinner and
realizing there was but one foot separating their heights. He could see himself
then, young, proud…naïve – the twelve inches distinguishing Lucius as a man,
and Draco – a child. He blinked, and again he recognized the shadow of his
former self, now eye to eye with his sire; yet still but a boy.

 

It was the first time
Draco had been in the Manor since fleeing it the night he became a man. Nothing
had changed…nothing corporeal, anyways. The staircases still stretched
upwards, defying the physics of exiguous man as though they lead to St. Peter
himself; his footsteps still rang out, bouncing off the walls and impossibly
high ceilings – no matter how softly he tread…the sound the very definition of
loneliness. This was his home, no matter how cold, how uninviting it may be to
the naked eye. And now it was his in name as well as sentimentality.

 

Lucius had left almost everything he owned to his son, save
a few hundred thousand galleons he had bequeathed to Severus Snape and, as was
tradition, a sizeable fortune for the future heir. In his will he stated that
he knew Draco would provide for his mother, seeing no need to leave any of his
collateral in her name. Were she to remarry, as unlikely as it was, the Malfoy
fortune could easily be usurped. Lucius was nothing if not protective of his
birthright and his lineage.

 

Although this Manor would always be home for him, Draco
would not live here. This was his mother’s house…and he would leave her to it.
He wasn’t ready to live here, away from all he had grown used to and so close
to all he had fought to let go of. Perhaps one day, when peace found him and he
no longer had anything to fight for, he could return here. He could sit in his
Father’s chair at the head of the table, sleep in his room, and die in the bed
in which he was conceived.

 

After collecting his things from his former room, Draco
approached his Father’s study. His hand lingered on the doorknob as he took a
deep breath and forced himself to remember that when he opened the door, Lucius
would not be sitting at his desk, the embodiment of all Draco once aspired to
be. When at last he had gathered his wits enough to venture inside, the feeling
that washed over him was not what he had expected it to be. As useless as words
were for such things, the only way he could have described it would have
been…comforting. It was almost as though he could feel Lucius with him…the room
smelled of him, and although the sensation was not what one could call warm, to
Draco it still carried familiarity with it…and it was enough.

 

He sat at his father’s desk and a small smile graced his
lips as he ran his hands over every ornament, every quill. He supposed it was
juvenile to take such joy in fingering all the objects he had not been allowed
to touch in all his years…but Draco found himself far from caring. He picked up
the one object that had fascinated him for years – his family crest. It was the
heirloom Lucius used to seal his letters. Although Draco knew it by heart, he
still could not help but run his fingers over the embossment as though seeing
it for the first time. He remembered sitting in the chair he now faced,
opposite his father’s leather one, with his feet dangling inches from the
floor. His skinny legs would swing back and forth while he fussed with his
slicked back hair. It was one such time when Lucius explained their family
crest to him. An M placed above a cockatrice, with a single peacock feather
resting at its feet, the crest symbolized the Malfoys’ position of power,
beauty, pride and terror throughout history. He looked closely at the
cockatrice – a dragon with the head of a rooster – a symbol of terror, and
shook his head. His family had done so many terrible things over the centuries,
yet he would die before he would be called any other name. It was this thought
that led him to dig through the papers on the desk. He glanced over all
official looking parchments, stopping at any that looked as though they might
be what he was looking for and placing them into a pile for further inspection.


 

He had been there for over an hour when the door opened and
he lifted his head to see his former potions master standing a scant few feet
from him. Professor Snape had a rare, soft expression on his face. Draco nodded
at him to acknowledge his presence and continued with his task. Snape took a
seat across the desk from him and sat quietly observing for a long moment
before quirking a brow and smiling.

 

Draco looked up and frowned. “What are you smiling at?”

 

“You look just like yoatheather sitting there with that look
of frustrated concentration on your face. It’s uncanny.”

 

Not looking up this time, Draco answered him. “Was that a
compliment?”

 

“Not really. It was merely an observation.” He sat back and
steepled his fingers, long and rough from a hard life’s work, peeking out from
the long robes he wore. “What, may I ask, are you doing?”

 

Draco sighed and dropped a stack of papers down to the
surface of the desk before sitting back himself. “I’m looking for the papers
that deal with the fund for my heir.”

 

Snape quirked a brow. “Why would you be doing that? I highly
doubt you’re expecting…unless there’s more to Potter than any of us were ever
informed of…”

 

Draco scowled. “No…it’s nothing like that. I want to
dissolve it…give it to charity.”

 

“But then what happens if your heir takes after his father
and leaves? He’ll be penniless…”

 

The younger man’s face grew serious. “There won’t be an
heir.”

 

Snape was concerned now. He ld fod forward, looking Draco in
the eye. “Come now Draco…you know there are other ways, should you choose to
continue your lifestyle as it is currently. I would think that best anyways…you
know who you are, and you shouldn’t change. But, as I said, there *are* other
ways. You may not be able to have a child with Mr. Potter, but you can have a
child, Draco.”

 

Draco smiled at his mentor. “I’m well aware of that, thank
you. And this has nothing to do with Harry Potter. We’re not even together…” He
paused. “I’ve done my job…I’ve broken the cycle. I’ve already begun to change
the Malfoy name and when I die, people will remember my name with true
respect…not fear… It ends with me.”

 

Snape rose and began
to pace. “Draco, have you thought this through? You’ll be ending thousands of
years of carefully guarded lineage! People have died for your name…there have
been wars –”

 

“You of all people should know what suffering my title has
brought our world, Severus.” Draco interrupted him.

 

The potions master’s face fell. His eyes doubled in size and
he slumped into his seat, covering his mouth with his hand. “How…how did you
know?”

 

Draco leaned against the desk. “I’m a smart boy. For a time
I thought maybe you and my Father had been lovers…but I soon realized how very
far off the mark that theory was. How can you look at your life…the suffering
and rejection…and tell me that the ways of my family should be continued?
Or…our family I should say…”

 

Severus had no answer. He merely stared and waited for Draco
to continue.

 

“You are slightly older than my Father, are you not?”

 

Snape nodded. “Yes…by less than a year.”

 

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “This should be your
office…your house. But when your unmarried mother gave birth to you, your
father had already named his heir…already impregnated his wife. If I thought
giving you everything my Father had would change any of that…I would do it. It
won’t though…I can’t change that you had to live your life as a bastard,
Severus…but let me do this. Let me end this…and put our family to rest.”

 

The professor stood nod nodded, once. It
amazed him to see the man Draco had become…far from the selfish eleven year old
brat that had first stepped onto the Hogwarts grounds like he owned them. As he
crossed to the bookshelf, Draco spoke to him.

 

“Were you close? When
you were younger I mean?”

 

Severus stopped, his
hand just resting on the book he had been looking for. Sadness crept into his
eyes. “Once…yes, we were. There were things expected of him though…he couldn’t
be both the Malfoy heir and my brother. He tried though…he was there when I
needed him…”

 

Snape pulled himself
together and withdrew the book. He brought it to the desk and motioned for
Draco to look at it. The young blonde man scowled and sat back, confused.

 

“It’s just an antique
copy of a fairly common spell book. I have a newer one in my room…”

 

“No” Snape said,
opening the book and sliding it over to Draco.

 

His eyes widened and
he reached out trembling fingers to touch the image of his own face, barely
twenty four hours old. His infant self was not crying, merely sleeping
peacefully; his tiny face scrunching up every now and then.

 

“Merlin…is this....”

 

Draco looked up to
his professor and received a nod. Needing to see more, he turned the page and
saw more magic photos of himself doing various things and in various stages of
his youth. Each photo had been placed carefully and great care had been taken
to insure their protection. Not believing that such a sentimental shrine could
belong to his father, Draco flipped the pages, one after the other…there must
have been fifty of them. He was greeted with both memories he’d long forgotten,
and images of events burned forever into his brain. Without even realizing it,
he shed a solitary tear that slipped down his cheek and splattered onto a
picture of himself…playing the piano.

 

With a snap, he
closed the book and swept it into his arms. He thanked Severus with a look that
spoke volumes and the of tof them silently left the study. Once downstairs,
Draco said goodbye to his teacher and glanced around him.

 

Everything looked the
same…it always would.

 

Narcissa sat by the
window, as she often did. She gazed through the glass longingly, like a bird
trapped inside a gilded cage. No one would ever know just what she longed
for…or whom. She looked out on the snow with a solemn face, unblinking. Draco
couldn’t help but hope that she found whatever it was she was looking for. When
he passed her, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of light reflecting off of
her cheek…though it may have been an illusion. He said his goodbyes to her, and
was not offended when she did not reply.

 

Slipping out of the
door for the second time in months, Draco did not feel as he did when he left
his family. This time…he knew he would return…someday. But for now…it was time
to go home…

 

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

 

Michael greeted him with a small smile. He offered no words
of comfort, and Draco was grateful – glad to be away from all the obsequious
people that had been crowding him since his Father’s death had become public
knowledge.

 

“Where are we going again?” The other wizard asked Draco.

 

“The pitch Harry’s team practices at, *why* they are
practicing in this weather is beyond me, but…I need to thank him.”

 

“Ah. I should probably do the same…”

 

Draco stopped walking and turned to the man that had become
his best friend…and almost more. “I need to thank you as well, you know. I know
I wasn’t very nice to you that night…well…I’m never very nice to anyone, but
I’m sure you know what I mean. You give me something no one else does…and
understand a part of me that no one else seems to be able to. I wouldn’t be
here if it weren’t for you. With your help I think I’ve finally figured out
what it means to be a Malfoy…and what I want it to mean…”

 

There was silence between them for what seemed like an
eternity for Michael. Just when he thought he could reply, Draco leaned forward
and wrapped his arms around his neck, crushing him against himself. Michael
tried to fight away the thoughts that drifted into his mind when the scent that
the blonde carried enveloped him. He tried to keep from noticing the softness
of the platinum hair beneath his hands. He tried…and failed. Regardless of his
unsuccessfulness, he quickly pushed Draco away and smiled sadly at him.

 

Draco looked at his companion knowingly, and smiled back.
They continued walking and without looking away from the path ahead of him,
Draco spoke.

 

“If you tell so much as a chizpurfle that I hugged you,
you’re fired.” The comment held no malice, but Michael knew Draco was serious
about protecting his pride.

 

Michael smirked. “Ha! I can see it now…after the Prophet
headline declaring what a soft hearted chap you really are, women will be
asking you to kiss their babies left and right…”

 

“Don’t push it Cameron.”

 

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

 

When the two purebloods arrived at their destination, Harry
noticed from his position high over the pitch. He dove down at breakneck speed,
much to the displeasure of his coach, and landed a few meters aways fes feet
leaving deep imprints in the remaining snow. Draco nodded to Michael before
crossing to Harry. The two of them strode away, talking quietly.

 

Michael looked around him. He had played quidditch once,
years earlier. After all…it was a camp for the game where he had first laid
eyes on Draco Malfoy. Through the arrogance and superciliousness of the blonde,
he had seen a complex and beautiful boy back then. He had almost had him that
night by the lake, beforeco’sco’s fears caught up with him. Michael couldn’t
help but wonder how things would have been if Draco hadn’t run away. Would it
have been him at his side today? Would he be the one curled against his pale,
lissome body at night while the rest of the world slept on…oblivious to what
they were missing? Or would they be right where they are now – tied together,
yet never as one because, ultimately, Draco’s heart belonged to someone else?
It was an interesting thing to ponder – whether or not the bond between Harry
and Draco was simply a string of circumstances gone horribly wrong…yet somehow
ending up more right than anything else in either of their lives…or if, on some
level, it was meant to happen. If one way or another they would have found
their fates intertwined…be it now or in the years to come. Michael decided to
drop this line of thinking…once his brain started processing any sort of
philosophy it never seemed to let him rest until he found some semblance of an
answer.

 

He hadn’t even noticed he’d been staring off into space
until a voice to his left caused him to snap back to reality.

 

“I’d be staring too…both of them…together. It’s almost too
good to be true!”

 

Michael looked over and saw what he assumed to be a teammate
of Harryas has he was in the same training garb. He had chosen not to answer
such an undignified comment (no matter how true it may have been), but found
himself springing to action when the other man strode forward.

 

“If you’ll excuse me I have two beautiful boys to charm…”

 

Michael snatched the other man’s arm and held him back with
a grip that may have been a little firmer than was absolutely necessary.

 

“You’ll do no such thing. You ruin that moment...” he
pointed to where Harry was walking with Draco “…and you answer to me. Got it?”

 

David turned and met his captor’s face for the first time.
The expression that took over his face was similar to that of a child in a
candy store. “Wow…well then Mr. Tall, dark and handsome. If you like holding me
here…you’re free to handcuff me if you want.” He followed his come on with a
wink.

 

Michael scoffed and released him, causing the smaller man to
fall backwards on his bum. “Thank you no. Besides…that’s a bit…tacky…don’t you
think?”

 

Fuming, David stood and brushed the dirt and snow from his
posterior. “Well you’re no fun” he mumbled as he stalked off to take a shower.

 

Michael found a send rnd rested, waiting for Draco to finish
talking with Harry. It really was something that this blonde boy had done to
him. Here he was, waiting like he had nothing better to do, while the object of
his affections walked away with another…simply because Draco had wanted him
there. He made a mental note to avoid blondes in the future…they tinkered
around in his brain far, far too much.

 

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

 

As Draco walked alongside Harry, he found himself unable to
find the words he wanted to say. Harry, noticing this, started for him.

 

“How was the service?”

 

“It was tolerable. Everything was right, I suppose. But with
so little time it was…unexceptional.”

 

“Ah.” Harry fought the urge to tell Draco he had seen the
service and that he had, indeed, done an exceptional job. “So, what was it you
wanted?”

 

“Oh…” Draco trailed off for a moment before lifting his head
and brushing his hair from his eyes. “I wanted to thank you…I never got around
to it the other day…”

 

Harry smiled. “You don’t have to thank me, Draco. I was
there because you needed me…I’d do it again…”

 

Draco returned his gesture, the corners of his mouth lifting
slightly. “I know…and that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t think I could have
salvaged my sanity that night without you. And thank you for what you did to my
apartment…I did notice…I was just…preoccupied.”

 

“It was no problem. Even though the circumstances couldn’t
have been worse…I still liked spending the time with you.”

 

“I agree…it was nice. So…thank you, Harry.”

 

The two stood for a long moment, unsure of what tobefobefore
Harry realized he wanted, badly, to snake his arms around Draco’s waist and
bury his head in his angelic hair. He could still feel the changes in his
dragon, however, and this steeled his resolve to let Draco go. To let him sort
out his life and figure out all of the new feelings running through him. Harry
was about to excuse himself and head for the showers when Draco lunged forward
into his second impromptu embrace within one hour. Later, the pureblood would
blame it on a mysterious virus that had infected only him, apparently.

 

Harry brought his hands up around the other young man and
simply held him there for a moment, breathing in his scent. When they broke
away, Harry could see in Draco’s eyes that he had learned a life’s worth of
lessons in a very short period of time. If Harry Potter was could be called
anything, it would have been tenacious. He had it in his mind that letting go
was the right thing to do and, ever the hero, that’s exactly what he was going
to do. Draco smiled a half smile and the two were silent again, both knowing
they would soon part once more. The blonde was just about to turn when Harry
suddenly uttered something unexpectedly.

 

“White ginger…”

 

“What?” Draco was confused.

 

“Christmas Eve…I couldn’t figure it out. I knew it was
amber…amber and something else….white ginger.”

 

“I don’t follow you Harry.”

 

“Your smell…its amber and white ginger.”

 

“…oh…”

 

Harry stepped in close and took a deep breath.
“Yes…definitely. Don’t look so worried…it’s a good smell…I promise.”

 

Draco quirked a brow. “Well thank you…I think.”

 

Harry stepped back a bit. “I have to hit the showers now.
Just so you know, Draco, you will make an amazing head for the Malfoy house…so
don’t worry, okay? You know I’m here if you need me…”

 

“Thank you.”

 

As they headed their separate ways, neither one would know
that they both shared the same look of longing on their countenances.

 

When Draco had crossed back to Michael, he offered the other
man his hand and helped him to his feet before they left the pitch and headed
for Draco’s flat.

 

Michael eyed the suspiciously quiet Draco. “Did everything
go as planned?”

 

Draco shot him a sideways glance. “There was no plan.”

 

“Oh…well…is everything alright then?”

 

“Everything is fine,”

 

Quirking a brow, Michael looked behind them one more time.
“Then why are we walking in one direction and Harry Potter in the other?”

 

“It’s…complicated…”

 

“Ah. Well…you’re the boss.” Michael finished lamely as the
two of them finished their journey in silence.

 

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

TBC

 

Okay lovelies. Only 2 more chapters and an epilogue to go!
Christ…I don’t know what I’m gonna do when this thing is finished.

 

Anyways…there was a lot in this chapter so be sure to review
and tell me what you thought.

 

Love and Kisses,

 

Reika