The Family That Lived

¹⁷|ꜱᴏɴ

Draco knocked with an undeterminable set of feelings.

He was happy to know that he had a place he could go.

Anxious about whether the people he loved, felt the same way about him. Will they want the responsibility?

Distraught about the consequences of his fleeing.

Above all, grief-stricken about a love that never seemed to exist, the love his parents should have had for him.

Harry answered the door, he wore a red jumper with yellow stripes. What a Gryffindork, Draco thought impulsively, momentarily forgetting the unfortunate events that led to him knocking on this door.

"Draco, what are you doing here? Did you send me a letter about it? Hedwig has been going crazy nowadays, I wouldn't be surprised if he lost it. Are you cold? Come in why are you still standing here?" Was Draco overwhelmed by being cared for enough to be bombarded with questions? Yes, he was.

"Potter, I would come in if you would not block the door", he said somehow finding the ability to add the snarky tone to his response.

As he entered he was met with a warm feeling that always occupied this house. Lily with her fiery head was knitting near the fireplace. As Harry announced Draco's arrival, Lily sprung up and gave the boy a hug.

"Oh Draco honey, sit down, are you cold? Let me get you some hot chocolate", she said patting the boys back. "James come down with a spare sweater", she shouted through the staircase.

This is what home should feel like; concern and love. A perfectly tailored combination of them both.

"Oh boy, you travelled here without a sweater? What were you thinking? Wear this", James said coming down. Instinctively after handing the sweater, the man ruffled his own hair. Draco found himself chuckling at the overt resemblance between the Potter men.

"I am sorry for coming here unannounced it's just, can you call Sirius and Remus here. Dumbledore too. I need to tell you all something."

James opened his mouth but quickly shut it as his wife sweetly agreed.

______________ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ________________

Draco had finished telling everyone. He himself was not sure of what to expect but he was surprised when he saw half the people in the room with their faces reflecting their rage.

Were they mad at him for coming to them and making them a target? Or did they really care about him to be mad at those who tried to force a young boy down a dreadful path?

Half was accurate because anger and concern had consumed only the Potters, but the rage won and rose to display on their faces. Draco looked at the other side of the room. Dumbledore is going to unusually calm because he is freakishly unperturbed about everything, Draco assumed and was proven right when his eyes reached the headmaster.

Remus had a steady face, he always did when he was trying to formulate something. The blonde boy was familiar with the expression of almost all. Then he noticed Moony's eyes and hands dart towards his boyfriend.

On a nearby chair, Sirius was sobbing. James hurried to his friend on impulse. Padfoot stopped him by just putting up a hand. It wasn't offensive, it was a reassurance. Or so Draco thought, confusion overshadowed him when everybody soon started clearing out of the room.

_______________________________

The man stood up from his chair, bending down to put more firewood in the small fire. The silence was palpable. Draco upon the absence of sound other than the chairs dragging in another room spoke up.