How Are You, Really? (Drarry)

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Stone Cold Bench

            The day was filled with more joy, laughter, and happiness than Draco thought he had ever experienced. Even so, a sliver of sadness had cracked his heart. Slipping out the back door, he was brought up short by a figure huddled against the cold, sitting on the bench behind the house, out of view.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Draco hesitantly approached the woman.

Hastily wiping her eyes, she looked up at Draco. It was evident she'd been sitting out here crying. "What are you doing out here, dear? Why aren't you inside?"

Draco considered the woman before him and then slowly sat down next to her. "I think for the same reason you are."

To Draco's complete and utter amazement, Mrs. Weasley grabbed his hand and held onto it like a lifeline. "It's just, this is the first Christmas without them."

Draco relaxed. She did understand. "I know," he whispered.

"The first Christmas after the original war was like this, too. Everyone trying so hard to be happy but with an underlying sadness. I had hoped this time around..." she didn't finish the thought.

Squeezing her hand, he whispered, "I don't think this will ever get easier. You lost a son, Mrs. Weasley. You just don't recover from that. No one recovers from losing someone they love."

Tears started falling from her eyes again, but she didn't try to hide them. "I miss him. I miss my baby Fred so much. Sometimes when George walks in, I think – I think -," she broke off, unable to finish.

Draco wrapped an arm around her. There was nothing he could say.

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes and gazed at Draco. "I'm truly very happy you were able to join us. When I got Harry's letter, I didn't think you'd want to be here."

Draco grimaced. Of course, Harry hadn't bothered to tell him any of this. "He didn't tell me anything at all. Probably because he knew I would have protested – not because I don't want to be here, but because I don't belong here and don't want to intrude."

It was Molly's turn to grab Draco's hand. "It's a pleasure to have you here. You aren't intruding. What's one more child when I have so many already."

Draco didn't know what to say. Mrs. Weasley was the complete opposite of his own mother; she was warm and kind and attentive, all things Narcissa knew nothing about.

"I want to say thank you," she continued. "We were all so worried about Harry. Anyone could look at him after the war and realize he wasn't doing well. And from what everyone has told me, you came along, and you've helped Harry more than any of us could. We were losing hope of finding him again."

"I love him, you know," Draco admitted.

"I know, sweetheart. And that must be hard on you." Molly patted his hand. "George was a little enthusiastic in there, wasn't he?"

Draco thought back on the moment Harry's lips touched his and shuddered with pleasure. "I'd have never known what it was like to kiss him otherwise. I think it was a lovely present, even if it means I know what I'm missing out on now."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Harry has always been a bit confused when it comes to his own happiness. I wouldn't give up hope yet, Draco. Give the boy time."

Draco frowned. "But how can you sound so positive when you're talking about Harry being with a Death Eater?"

Molly sat up straight, piercing Draco with her sharpest gaze. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Well, no, not directly but -," Draco tried.

"Have you ever hurt someone on purpose?"

"I mean, I used to bully -."

"Have you used the unforgivable curses before on innocent people?"

"Apparently, they didn't hurt, but yea I -," Draco hurried to get out.

"Do you believe purebloods are better than everyone else?"

"No, of course not. Not anymore!"

Molly humphed. "You failed to reply to any of my questions like a Death Eater. Just because you have a mark doesn't make you one of them. Besides, your behavior this year has shown you've matured and grown beyond what anyone could have hoped for."

Draco frowned. "How do you know what I've been like this year?'

Molly smiled for the first time since they'd been out there. "Besides Ron and Ginny, I also write to Hermione and Harry. And George writes to Harry and tells me all the important information, at least what he deems I should know. I was already expecting Harry to ask you over for Christmas. I started your jumper last month."

Glancing down at the sweater he was wearing, the silver dragon glowing in the twilight, and he smiled. "It really is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten."

This time Molly beamed. "I'm glad you like it. It's going to be a hard one to beat next year." She rose, leaving Draco with his mouth open. She wanted him back next year?

"Come on, we'll freeze to death out here with all this snow.'

Draco suddenly realized how very cold he was and hastily rose off the cold bench to hurry to Mrs. Weasley's side. When they entered the house, Ron was standing by the back door with a fist full of ham. "Where were you two?" Ron asked around a mouthful.

Draco turned to Mrs. Weasley, feeling it was better if she answered. "Out enjoying the twilight. Ronald, don't you dare let me see you speaking with your mouth full again, you hear me?" She waved her finger at him threateningly.

Swallowing, Ron asked, "But why him?"

Mrs. Weasley glared at her son and wrapped a protective arm around Draco. "He's like another son Ronald, be nice."

Ron sighed deeply and muttered, "First Harry, then Hermione, and now my own mother. Is no one sacred?" But there was no bite to his words.

Harry popped his head around the corner. "There you are, Draco! We're about to play exploding snap wanna join?"

"Go on, dear, I'll be alright," Mrs. Weasley nudged him when he hesitated.

"Sure!" Draco hugged Molly on impulse and then followed Harry.