𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

Chapter 2

The Burrow

Chapter Summary

Ron takes Draco to The Burrow, but he's obviously upset about it. Draco starts to make himself comfortable.

The trip to the Burrow was uneventful, Ron simply created a portkey from an old teapot and they arrived in the front garden just after breakfast. Draco tried to maintain a neutral expression as he looked around the obviously untended garden. There was evidence of gnomes everywhere and some areas of what had once been a lawn but had been completely overtaken by weeds. Draco was surprised at the neglected look of the place, but he kept it to himself.

Ron walked towards the house and pulled out his wand. Tapping three times on the door it swung open. Again Draco was confused, why did Ron need to unlock the door, didn't his parents live here?

Ron looked back at Draco where he stood in the same place he had landed. "Come on, we should get inside." Ron said as he turned back to the house.

Draco realised as soon as he crossed the threshold that this house hadn't been inhabited for many months' maybe years. There was a thick layer of dust over every surface and the furniture was covered in white sheets. As Ron wandered around the rooms removing covers and setting fires to burn cheerfully in the fireplaces the house started to feel more cosy and less like a mausoleum.

Draco simply stood still in the kitchen waiting for Ron to come back. He could feel the tension that had been emanating from Ron all morning and he really didn't want to set off whatever explosion Ron was building towards. Draco understood Ron didn't really want him here in his parents' home so the tension was probably caused by that, but as well, the emptiness of the house niggled at him. Where did Ron's parents live if they didn't live here? Draco had a dreadful feeling that the reason for their absence was going to be difficult for him to handle.

Finally, the chill in the air started to dissipate and Ron walked back into the kitchen. When he saw Draco there it was as if he'd forgotten his presence until that moment. A look of surprise flashed across his face but was quickly suppressed.

"I thought you'd have some tea on the go by now." Ron said quietly.

"Oh" Draco said as he looked around the kitchen for a clue as to how one made tea in this house. "Okay."

Ron walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a large tin kettle that had obviously seen a lot of use. He handed it to Draco and then walked out of the room again. Draco looked down at the kettle wondering what he was supposed to do now. He looked around again and then saw the fire in the grate. "Ah ha" he thought. There's a hook above the fire, I bet that's for hanging the kettle. Now I just need some water. Now where would water come from? He spotted a tap at the sink. Okay he could do this.

He spotted a tray standing in the gap between two cupboards and put it on the table. The cupboard close to the fire yielded two cups and in the cupboard by the window he found sugar and tea bags.

The teapot he found next to the sink. It was a pretty one, he thought, with a delicate pattern of flowers painted on it. Now the only thing he was missing was milk. He decided it was time to go and ask Ron.

He left the kitchen and found himself in a winding corridor with a spiral staircase leading off to the right. He thought it was more likely Ron was still downstairs so decided to leave the rooms up the staircase until later. The first room off the corridor looked like a study. There were various tables and shelves covered in piles of paper and books, some open and stacked one on top of the other like they had recently been used to reference something. Draco thought about how different this study was from his father's. Lucius' study had been immaculate and regimentally organised. Not one paper out of place. He knew because his childhood punishments had always begun in that room. When he was summoned to stand in front of his father's immense Oakwood desk awaiting his sentence for whatever misdemeanour he had been caught committing that time, he'd look around at the magical objects and wonder what they did. None of his memories of those objects in Lucius' study were pleasant.