Empty Spaces

Chapter 27

- Draco -

He supposed it had been inevitable. There was no way he could keep going on like this and not face some sort of retaliation from Lucius. The easy thing to do would be to ignore the bait and simply stay in Hogsmeade. But Draco knew he couldn't do that. And Lucius knew it, too.

So as soon as classes let out, while everyone else was heading back to their dorms making last-minute preparations to board the train, Draco apparated back to the one place he swore he would never set foot in again. At least this time, Potter was at his side.

"You won't be able to cross the gate on your own," Draco whispered as they walked up the foreboding path lined with tall, snowcovered hedges. "No outsider can cross the magical boundary, but as a Malfoy, I can bring you in."

He offered his hand to the empty space beside him, and watched it disappear as the familiar warmth of Harry's hand enveloped it. Hoping that Lucius hadn't added or changed any of the security spells, Draco walked straight through the iron gates. For a moment, he was afraid something had gone wrong, but it was just Potter slipping on the ice as they crossed through the boundary and into the innermost grounds of the Malfoy Manor. The home Draco hated so much loomed overhead, taunting and belittling him.

"You okay?" Potter breathed at his side, barely audible.

"Yeah," Draco said, his entire body tensing as they stepped closer, "You?"

"Yeah, but I'm not the one we need to worry about here," Potter replied.

"Stay by me?" Draco whispered, squeezing Potter's hand in appreciation.

"You bet," Potter whispered back. "Let's go."

Draco pulled open the familiar doors, doors that separated the shining Malfoy personna from the dark reality that took place behind them. The last place on earth I want to be.

The Manor was almost as cold inside as it was outside, or maybe it was just Draco's perception– he couldn't tell anymore. The torches were lit, casting dancing shadows across the shining black marble floors and over the tapestry-covered walls. Not wanting to reveal Potter, he resisted the urge to whisper or even reach out; he simply had to trust that Potter was staying true to his word. A Malfoy trusts no one. But perhaps this one does. Are you still there, Potter...? Draco hoped so.

"Ah, my son, returned home for the holidays," Lucius strode out of the parlor, arms extended, poison dripping from every word. Draco felt his entire body clench up inside, whether from fear or hatred or possibly both, he had no idea. He forced himself to focus on the two Ministry workers– Aurors maybe– at Lucius' side. There's only so much he can do with witnesses around.

"I'm here to see Mother," Draco said coldly, "Where is she?"

"This is the sort of greeting you give to your devoted father?" Lucius asked, feigning disappointment.

"I suppose one could say that your presence here has caught me by surprise," Draco answered smoothly.

"Oh, Draco, my son..." Lucius said, stepping closer, "You still have so much to learn of the world and its ways. Why would I not be able to spend the holidays with my family?"

... Oh, I don't know, maybe because you're received a life sentence in prison????

"Where is Narcissa?" Draco pressed, determined to keep his focus.

"Your devoted mother is in her room, resting," Lucius replied, "You may see her later. She has suffered greatly, all alone, worrying for you."

You haven't seen her yet. You don't know whether he's telling the truth or lying. Focus.