Harry Potter and The Charming Prince (BP7)

Draco took long, confident strides as he made his way up the winding stone path that led to the side door of the conservatory at the back of the Manor. June was preparing to slip away from the calendar for another year as it offered another beautiful day. The warmer months in England would soon be upon them; today, however, was perfect so Harry and Draco had spread a large blanket out among the apple trees to enjoy some time outside with the children. The blossoms had disappeared from the trees in late spring but the leaves were full and thick, providing generous shade as Harry chased Valen around the trees and they took turns hiding from one another. Draco had spent that time playing on the blanket with April and her toys until the fresh air brought about tiny yawns and she now lay on her stomach with her feet tucked up beneath her, sound asleep. As he had leant back against the tree, Draco had glanced up toward the house and could just make out the silhouette of his mother behind the large glass windows, watching all of them at play. After signalling Harry to let him know where he would be, Draco headed in to see Narcissa.

In the past two weeks, things had improved in the house between Narcissa and Harry which was a relief to Draco. Nothing meant more to him than his family and to have everyone making the effort to get along better pleased Draco very much. He knew that things weren't perfect, but compared to what he had known growing up, life in the Malfoy Manor was now fairly idyllic. His mother still had difficulty acknowledging Hermione and Ron, and Draco often turned away to hide the smiles when he saw the pained expressions on his mother's face at some of the outfits that Harry chose to relax in. He hadn't brought it up with his husband, but Draco was almost sure that Harry was choosing some of the pieces on purpose just to see Narcissa's reactions.

Draco stepped into the double-pitch domed conservatory that was completely enclosed in glass and smiled at his mother who sat on a comfortably padded lounging chair with a cup of tea on a small table by her side. The colours in the room reflected those outside with different shades of greens and browns complemented by splashes of vivid reds that matched the roses in the gardens just below the glass view. Through the open windows, Draco could hear the faint laughter of Valen and Harry as they played. Narcissa smiled back at Draco and inclined her head toward the empty chair on the other side of the table set for tea.

Draco smoothed his hands down the front of his light linen trousers. Living with Harry had also affected his choices in clothing, so that, at home at least, he tended to wear clothing with more of a Muggle influence in their design, even if still made by a wizarding tailor. His button-down shirt was short-sleeved and his trousers hugged his arse in a way that would have been considered obscene by more conservative wizarding ideals. They were, however, more practical for chasing children and pleased Harry. Narcissa hadn't said anything about them though she had arched an eyebrow when she had first seen him in such an outfit. Now, Draco leant back in the chair next to his mother and crossed one ankle over his knee. "Your Aphrodite will bloom soon," he pointed out for something to say.

"As it does, every year, without fail," Narcissa replied, with a slight teasing tone to her voice. "If I remember correctly, a certain young man not much older than Valen is now had a very serious discussion with that plant the one year it failed to bloom that included the threat of being relocated someplace 'far, far away' and it has bloomed every year since then."

Draco smirked. He had been quite an imperious little boy, believing that he could order "lesser creatures" of the world the way it seemed his father did. He tested the matter on the plants, animals and even insects of the Malfoy estates. "I am glad it pleases you, Mother."

"It pleases me a great deal, Draco," she noted, turning now to look at the plant as her voice turned wistful. "I have missed seeing all of my plants coming to life for such a long time and I will miss seeing this one bloom when it fulfills your expectations of it in the next few weeks."

Draco frowned as the meaning of her words sunk in. "Mother, why would you not be here to see it?" he asked, uncrossing his leg and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Narcissa turned soft eyes on Draco; it was a gentle look that had once been reserved only for her son but now included Valen and April. "It's time for me to take my leave, son. These past weeks have been joyful and have eased my mind in regards to your welfare, but this is your time in Malfoy Manor to raise your family and it is my time to move on."

Draco wanted to argue with her, realising that he almost feared that if Narcissa left, he wouldn't see her again. Her return had been such a relief. Yet, he was also aware that she was unlikely to ever feel entirely comfortable sharing a home with Harry, let alone Hermione and Ron. "Where will you go?"

"Please don't look at me that way, Draco," Narcissa requested firmly, yet reassuringly. "I'm not expiring and you won't be doomed to conversations with my portrait. I'll only be a Portkey away; I was thinking, perhaps, of France. I have always loved it there."

Draco would have preferred her closer, but the idea of her in France was so fitting he couldn't object. He knew she loved it there and he smiled at the memories of the times he had spent at the estate there. He nodded. After a moment he smiled, arching an eyebrow. "In that case, I was wondering if you would do me a favour, Mother."

"I recognise that look, darling, and should probably insist on hearing it first," Narcissa said, matching Draco with an elegantly raised eyebrow of her own. "For you, though, I shall agree and reserve the right to change my mind."

"Of course," he acknowledged with a nod before continuing. "I am so busy with the estates here, that I don't have time to really manage the vineyard in France. I was wondering if you would be willing to take that over until one of the children are old enough for it." It was only partially true, of course. What he was really doing was offering her the place that she had always enjoyed most in his childhood, the Malfoy estate lands in France.

Narcissa was silent for a moment and looked down at the hands folded in her lap. The breath that she released was probably meant to be silent but the shaky exhalation of what seemed to be relief was audible all the same. Lifting her head again, Narcissa gave her son a genuine smile. "It appears I won't need to change my mind, after all," she said, her blue eyes outshining the sun. "It would be my pleasure to accept the favour if you would permit me to request a favour of my own."

"Thank you, Mother," Draco answered, "and what is your request?" Now he knew where she would be and that it was a safe place she liked. He could make sure she was provided for without it appearing like charity.

Narcissa faltered for a moment, uncertainty passing like a shadow across her face so quickly that most people would have missed it. "I do understand that Harry will join you in making the decision, but, perhaps, when the children are a bit older I was hoping that you might consent to allowing them to visit with me. I promise you they would be protected and it would be lovely for them to spend time at the vineyards like their father did when he was a child."

Draco reached out, palm up for his mother's hand. "Of course, I will talk with Harry, but I doubt there will be a problem. I have told Harry about my summers there. Did you know we took a kind of late honeymoon there right after the war?"

Placing her own hand in the larger one of her son, Narcissa squeezed gently. "I do recall reading about that. There was a photo that accompanied the article and I was not only pleased at your choice of where to spend your holiday but also pleased, and grateful, to see that you appeared to be happy. There was a time when I did not believe – " Narcissa paused and held tight to Draco's hand. "In any case, I would be honoured to have my grandchildren visit me and I will make the request formally with Harry if you believe that to be best."

Draco knew that Harry's biggest objection would actually be letting either of their children out of his sight. Harry was extremely protective of their children – well, they both were. "When you are settled and ready to receive visitors, we will have to talk about it."

"Of course, son," Narcissa said with a small nod. "And, in the meantime, I do plan to return and visit with them here. You may find this hard to believe, but it won't be long until you are waving goodbye to Valen as that dusty old train carries him away to Hogwarts. I should hope to get to know Valen, and April, very well before that day arrives." Narcissa turned at the sound of Valen's laughter floating up toward them. "I am ashamed to admit this, Draco, but I was uncertain of what I would find when we met again. The lessons you learnt as a child on what defines a good marriage or good parents made me very afraid for you and for your children. I can say, however, with complete honesty that you, Draco, truly are a good father."

Draco was very happy to hear she would not be disappearing from their lives again. His eyes followed her gaze, watching his son, his mind drawn back to that first time on platform 9 3/4. He'd been elated to be going to Hogwarts but also very frightened that he would not live up to his father's standards. A fear that turned out to be well-founded in the long run. He'd been so determined to be just like his father though. He flushed, turning back to meet his mother's eyes, looking into her blue ones. Same as his daughter's. "He wasn't kind to you, was he?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

Two high spots of colour appeared on Narcissa's cheekbones and she carefully pulled her hand away from Draco's to clasp her own together tightly as if to hold on to herself. Her chin lifted slightly, perhaps in defiance of the past. "Kindness toward me was not a promise made nor expected when we spoke our vows to one another, therefore, I can assure you that no promises were broken by Lucius in that regard."

Draco had no illusions about what kind of man his father had been. He and Harry had fought and, in self defence, killed Lucius. Luicus had demanded absolute control of his family and meted out brutal punishment for any deviation from his impossible standards. Draco had learnt to please his father, even sexually, to appease him. He also knew it was an unwritten rule of pure-blood aristocratic culture to not even speak of such things. He grimaced with the realisation that it was probably Harry’s influence that had prompted him to say anything about it. Draco still had questions but was at a loss for how to ask them. "I know ... I was difficult sometimes," he ventured carefully.

"You were a challenge when you were very young, Draco, and I regret not having the opportunity to spend more time with you," Narcissa continued, watching Valen chasing Harry around a tree. "As you became older, though, your choice of role model affected your behaviour and I was afraid for you ... and of you, at times. You were a direct link to Lucius in a way that I no longer seemed to be and that gave you power. Your adolescence was, indeed, a difficult time but I'm sure it was even more difficult for you."

Draco wasn't happy to hear that his mother had feared him, but it made sense. There were a few years after Lucius had quite literally seduced Draco, that if his mother had said anything against her husband, Draco would probably have told him. It wasn't something of which he was proud. It wasn't until Lucius' attack on Harry in the Ministry at the end of fifth year, and Lucius' subsequent incarceration, that Draco was able to break free from the hold his father had on him. He didn't know if his mother knew what his father had done to assure his submission and loyalty. And he had no idea of how to bring that up or if he should. "I would have done what he told me, then."

Narcissa turned and looked directly at Draco, her gaze piercing. "And you did just that, son, and I understand why."

Draco felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his eyes. "I ... I won't be like him. Harry has helped me make sure of that," he admitted.

It was Narcissa's cool hand that now reached out to clutch Draco's hand in a firm grip, her voice clear and strong. "Draco, do not ever feel you have to look away from me or be uncertain of what you think you might see in my eyes. Lucius' choices were not your choices even if you were somehow convinced that they were. He was a very persuasive man who knew how to take what he wanted and manipulated others into believing that they gave of it freely. The blame for what you endured lies only with Lucius and those adults who should have kept you safe – and failed to do so." Narcissa paused and glanced out at Harry for a long moment before turning back to Draco. "You never were like Lucius, son; wanting his love and choosing his path are two different things. You only wanted to be loved and I can see that with Harry ... you are. Je te crois."

Draco felt embarrassed by the rush of relief, eyes stinging as he realised how much he had needed to hear that. She trusted him. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to get control of himself before raising his eyes again to meet his mother's. " And ... you. I know you did the best you could, given the choices, or lack of, that you had. Thank you. I love you too."

"Merci, son," Narcissa said and patted Draco's hand before pulling her own away. "My choices are different now and so I choose to spend a great deal of time with my son and my grandchildren. If, for no other reason, than to ensure that April and Valen do not inherit their father's abysmal fashion sense. Draco, dear, I actually saw him yesterday in a shirt that seemed to be some strange shade of orange; I wasn't aware they made clothing in that colour." Narcissa's tone was completely serious but those who knew her well would see the mischief in her eyes. She shook her head slowly and brought her teacup up to her mouth. Before she took a sip, Narcissa muttered, "Orange, indeed."

Draco's smirk mirrored hers. "Oh, yes, I lay blame for that entirely at the feet of the Weasleys," he insisted. "I tried hiding that hideous garment but he just uses that amazing power of his to Summon it." Only a Slytherin would understand that he was bragging about his husband by that statement.

Narcissa inclined her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps a piece of clothing so valuable would be safer with me in France." She smiled at Draco. "Until his 'amazing powers' extend to his wardrobe we may need to help him out, son. He's very ... different, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Draco answered with almost a purr and a definite grin. "He certainly is."