Chapter Text
Time and distance were curious things, together they have a profound effect on perspective.
Almost five years after the end of the war, almost five years Voldemort has been rotting in his grave, almost five years since Draco had thought he would surely not survive it.
During his travels, he’s seen how wizards from different countries perceived the Second Wizarding War. To them, it was almost like it was a small civil skirmish between two disgruntled factions. One witch in Egypt referred to it as an ill-advised squabble caused by a misguided idiot, another in France said it was just a myopic contention.
Draco’s logical mind could see why they would think so. A wizard’s average life span being what it is, Voldemort died young. His bid for immortality was desperate, 7 Horcruxes showed that. And yet, he had halved what his years would have been had he not messed with soul magic. And maybe the history books haven’t been clear on when it started, but most of those he met abroad thought it was done and dusted within a couple of months.
But to Draco, Dumbledore’s death at the Astronomy Tower was when the war officially began. Barely a month after he had turned 17. What followed next was darkness, death, loss.
And pain most of all.
Yet that contention had such an acute effect on him. At 22, he certainly wasn’t the same person as the one who knelt in front of Voldemort at 16 to be branded. He was grateful to have the privilege to gain distance and form perspective of the war, many people who deserved it more had become casualties. As the years passed slowly, he had come to understand the weight of his sins and his culpability to the damage wrought by his ilk.
He grew up in the interim, but that arrogant boy was still him. He would have it no other way. Because Draco finally understood that for him to fully accept responsibility for his actions, he had to acknowledge what he did. And even if it was true that he had changed, it seemed like an excuse, a way to attribute his actions to how he was raised or childish folly. But Draco knew it wasn’t. He was capable of cruelty, malice he had in spades. That angry hopeless teen was him too. Forced to grow up too soon and subjected to torture, he lashed out at everyone, even those he loved.
He would atone, feasibly for his entire life or however many years were left to him. Perhaps in a hundred years time, history would be kind and declare him redeemed.
And kinder still to have him wholly forgotten.
–
The night had dragged on, needlessly long. The party went well enough but some looks were still frosty. He had argued, saying it was too soon but his mother had insisted.
Draco’s father was no better, he indulged his wife’s every whim. He was still under probation but kept busy with their business interests and regular visits to their Mind Healer - all of whom came to the Manor as he was unable to leave.
“I think that was a nice party, wasn’t it?” Narcissa said before taking a sip of her champagne. She was currently reclining on the chaise, tired from playing gracious host.
It was currently winding down, most guests have already gone home and anyone that was staying overnight in the Manor were already in their rooms. Narcissa considered it a roaring success.
Draco merely grunted in response. He had been at his parents’ side the entire party and for anyone watching, he looked like the petulant heir he had once been. But Narcissa knew her son well, and she observed, seeing the tell-tale signs of Occlusion in his eyes.
“Draco… please,” Narcissa pleaded.
Draco turned to her and his lips curled up in a smile, his eyes shifted from cold silver to his normal grey. Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief and delight.
“It’s a brand new year, Mother. I wonder what we’ll do with it.”
Lucius’ deep baritone echoed as he approached his family, “Seems like an opportunity to me.”
Narcissa beamed at her husband and replied, “Indeed. But we’ve missed you, son. Me and your Father, we’re glad you’re back.”
Draco merely nodded, “It was time. I have it under control. So let’s call it a night. We all have appointments with the Mind Healer tomorrow.”
Lucius presented a hand to help Narcissa up. Their hands clasped together and he kissed his wife on the forehead. He then turned to Draco and asked, “Shall we retire?”
“You oldies can go ahead, I think I’ll stay here for a bit,” he replied cheekily.
His parents bid him goodnight and left. Draco sat in the silence, the detritus of the party all around him.
Feeling pensive, Draco examined his life. He was doing okay, all things considered. His family was moving forward after the horrors of the war.
Perhaps it was the consummate Slytherin within him but he wanted more. He knew he was capable of bigger things. He had completed an Ancient Runes mastery in Egypt two years ago and was now deep in the middle of completing his studies in Arithmancy.
The application to the Department of Mysteries was done on a lark. Draco knew his reputation would be difficult for any employer to accept. And so for the last four years he padded his resume with as many masteries he could get.
Potions went relatively well. Ancient Runes was fine while Arithmancy was an ordeal and a half. But he persevered, he had no other choice. It was a good way to occupy his time.
That and the fact that Draco yearned for something he could call his own. Something he had achieved himself and not because he was a Malfoy or it was handed, decided for him.
He had been shocked when the Department of Mysteries called him in for an interview, surprised when an Unspeakable actually showed up for it, and was absolutely flabbergasted when he was hired.
It was a step he knew he had to take. He was desperate to prove that he could be a part of something far bigger than himself. Not for glory or fame, but to simply contribute.
With his own skills and knowledge.
If he ended up being an experiment, he was fine with it too.
—
Theo Nott had been coming to Malfoy Manor since he was in diapers. After the war and the timely death of his father, Lord Theodore Nott of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Nott has been freed from his oppressing presence.
And Theo was finally allowed to come into his own.
What emerged was an irreverent being of pure chaos.
“Drakeyyyyy! Wakey wakey!” He hollered as he jumped into the bed where Draco was currently sound asleep. Draco groaned into his pillow as he was jostled awake. Theo burrowed with him under the covers and whispered, “Wake up Draco, I’m bored...”
Draco sighed and asked, voice husky from sleep, “What time is it?”
Theo laughed, “Early. Around ten-ish?”
Draco grumbled, face still in the pillow, “We have appointments with the Mind Healer today. Lunch later?”
“All of you? Cissa and Lucius too?”
“Yes. I need it, sort of. The holidays have been… taxing.” he replied simply.
“Who in their right mind would be open on January 1st?”
Draco shrugged before calling the house elf, “Mimsy!”
The house elf appeared with a soft pop of Apparition, “Yes, Master Draco? Would you like your morning tea?”
“Yes, Mimsy. Please. I need it after this hooligan woke me up at this ungodly hour.”
The house elf then looked at Theo with curious eyes, “Master Theo too?”
Draco laughed, “Do you think he deserves a warm drink, Mims? After inflicting his presence on me so early?”
Theo swiped the back of Draco’s head in retaliation, “You ungrateful little shit!”, then he turned to Mimsy and said, “Ignore Draco, yes, please Mimsy, I’d love a cuppa.”
Mimsy merely nodded, used to Draco’s antics, said, “We mustn’t be rude to our guests, Master Draco. I taught you better than that,” then disappeared with a pop.
The tea service arrived at the sitting area of Draco’s room. The fireplace burst to life, infusing the room with heat to dispel the cold. He fixed his drink, milk and nothing else. Theo followed, dumping several teaspoons of sugar in his.
He grimaced as he took a sip, “That’s disgusting, Theo.”
Theo drank deeply, ignoring the comment to his drink of choice. He smacked his lips for good measure. “You’re not Occluding, that’s good.”
“I figured it’s time. I have it under control.”
“Mate, it’s been months!”
“Do you think I don’t know that?”
Theo nodded, “Good. You know it’s not healthy.”
Draco scoffed, “Thank you for stating the obvious, Healer Theodore.”
Theo had gone into the Healer Programme at St. Mungo’s two months after graduation. He applied himself well despite some early hiccups. Theodore Nott knew his father’s reputation wouldn’t do him any favors. Same as Draco’s.
He overcompensated. Theo who was once very shy and quiet evolved into something charming, easy to laugh, open with his compliments and generous to his new friends. Fake it til you make it, he once said to Draco. But after 4 years of this, he realized it was now real.
Recognizing that that topic of conversation was now treading in dangerous territory, Theo tried a different track, “Did you hear back from the Department of Mysteries?”
He nodded, grateful for the reprieve, “I did actually. Was as surprised as you were. They mentioned a study they’d like me to be a part of. No details yet, but it sounds promising, something to do with my Ancient Runes mastery. Probably a ward of some sort. Employment contracts signed and all.”
Theo whooped and exclaimed, “Look at you! Well done, Unspeakable Malfoy.”
He grinned, “It starts in June, which works out just fine for me. I’d like to go to France for a bit and do some initial research for the study. I swear the DOM has mastered the art of double-speak with how vague they were. But I think the distance would do some good.”
“That’s perfect! You can go see Millie and Parks. She’s been licking her wounds there since the whole Potter Fiasco.”
Draco couldn’t help but shake his head, “What was she thinking? Potter and the Weaselette have been a sure thing since before the war. “
“To be fair, Ginny Weasley came back from Harpies training looking extremely fit, flowing red hair and all that. Potter didn’t stand a chance.”
“And Pansy is collateral damage? Doesn’t seem fair.” Draco retorted.
“They have history, Drake.” Theo supplied, as if it explained everything.
He sighed as he leaned into his chair, “Yes, where would we all be without our history.”