Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy

59 - Goodnight

I knew straight away that something was wrong the moment Bernard greeted me off the train for the Easter holidays.

He looked deflated; his normally thick hair thinning on top, revealing age spots; no longer looking the tall standing important wizard of money and power he once was as his whole posture stooped forwards as though he was suffering some kind of internal agony.

"Blaire, my dear," he rasped shakily, engulfing me in a weak hug. "Thank you, thank you for coming home."

It wasn't as though I really had much choice. Unusually, Hogwarts was to remain closed over the two weeks of Easter and students were not permitted to stay on.

I was guessing this had a lot to do with the fact that half the staff were busy needed in their other career as hard working, murdering Death Eaters.

But Bernard had been surprisingly keen on me coming home, not once mentioning a thing about work as he normally did when coming up with reasons why it would be best for me to stay elsewhere.

"Is everything okay?" I frowned, somewhat stupidly when things were clearly not. "How's the cauldron business?"

He gave his head a brief nervous shake. "Not good, pet. Not good..."

He didn't elaborate, instead taking my trunk for me and leading the way as he wheeled it out of the station.

"So," he said casually as he drove us home, his voice sounding lighter than usual, "have you heard from your mother lately?"

I was stunned at the question. Mother never got in touch, even before she fled the country. Bernard knew this more than anyone.

"Uh- no," I shrugged coolly. "I haven't seen nor spoken to her in almost two years. Why? Have you?"

"No- no, no," he said hurriedly, before lowering his voice to a bitter mutter, "not a fucking sausage."

He emitted a heavy sigh as he turned into the driveway; clearly disappointed.

I looked up at the mansion I used to call home but hadn't done so in a long time, and I failed to hide the gasp that escaped my lips.

"I had to let the staff go," Bernard mumbled upon seeing my reaction. "So maintenance has been put on the back burner of late."

That was an understatement. The building looked utterly derelict; dead shrubs crawling up the peeling walls, smashed roof tiles fallen to the ground, and windows so dirty you could barely see through them.

"Well, I can spruce it up a bit," I said, thinking surely just a quick wave of the wand should do the trick.

"Meh," Bernard shrugged heavily, his whole body sagging as if he had the world upon his shoulders. "I shouldn't bother. What's the point?"

Damn, my step father had some serious depression going on.

It didn't take long to find out why.

For, on my second night home, as I went to bed leaving Bernard sitting in his armchair nursing the usual whiskey that he now drank from dawn till dusk, shit happened.

*****

"What in Merlin's name are you playing at?" Narcissa hissed as she watched her only son disappear beneath a cloak of evil.

"I'm doing it for her, Mother," he spat from behind the silver mask, sounding frighteningly like his father.

"This is too dangerous!" Narcissa fretted. "You could get yourself killed if they think you're betraying them in any way. I won't let you do this!"