Darling Coda: The Notion of Bluffing

Author's Note: Codas to Darling can be read in any order and are meant to illustrate Draco Malfoy's path from terrified teen to fairly decent adult in the years between the last chapter and the epilogue.

~~~

17th July, 2016

"Cissy!" Lucius called affectionately through the house. "Where've you got to?"

Narcissa poked her head out of the sitting room. "I'm just on the fire with Marigold, poor thing. What's wrong?"

"Put her out and come into the dining room," he suggested with a warm smile. He spread his arms grandly, displaying a large package and accompanying scroll. "We've just got an owl from Malfoys the Younger."

Narcissa's eyes went wide and she turned straight around. Lucius grinned to hear her ever so gracefully hurrying Marigold LeFauvre off the fire. He waited for her to return, then swept into her wake as she charged into the dining room to sit at the large table.

"You read," he suggested. "I'll open. Where's my..." He trailed off and then paused, avoiding Narcissa's sharp look of concern. "Knife," he edited hastily. "Liddy!"

Liddy popped into the room bearing a wicked looking knife, which she promptly handed to the Master of the house. She bowed and then pulled her ears under her chin to wash the tips around in her hands. Lucius frowned at her. He'd have preferred leaving her at the Manor in Wiltshire, if Draco hadn't insisted. She treated him as her Master; even though Draco'd taken over the bulk of the fortune and the house and the rightful command of the dreadful creature, she didn't appear to have taken notice. He resisted giving her a kick and felt proud of the restraint.

Narcissa gave him a wan smile and unrolled the scroll.

"Mother, Father," she read, then shook her head slightly at the formal tone. "I've sent along a few items which you will no doubt enjoy, puzzle over, or throw out once you realise I won't notice they aren't among your knicknacks. I do hope you enjoy them during the long summer months of temperate Nice. I think of you often whilst sunning myself on the white sands of these Bahamas. I would suggest you visit, but there are no Wizard-only beaches and I fear you'd quite stand out." Narcissa sighed.

Lucius frowned. "He didn't mean-"

"I know."

"Can you believe they actually wear their underwear for swimming?" he laughed, trying to lighten her mood.

Narcissa sniffed delicately. "How immodest," she agreed. "Could you just imagine me in that?"

Her husband leered. "I certainly could," he assured. "Could you imagine me watching others see you in that, is the better question."

That worked. She laughed like a bell, thin and silvered but genuine. "So it's for the safety of everyone else that we sun in our garden in proper wading attire?"

"That it is," he replied on a laugh, starting to poke through the contents of the package. He pulled out a tiny silver box and frowned at it. "Please tell me he goes on to say what these things are."

"He does," she confirmed, then read aloud: "The small silver box is quite new. With it, you can give anyone a firecall from wherever you are. It is connected to the network through Elf magic. Press the gilded M to pop it open-" And Lucius did, surprising himself and Narcissa with a plume of green fire followed by billowing smoke.

Narcissa coughed, then continued. "-but be sure to keep it depressed, as there have been some manufacturing issues keeping the fire in check."

"Nice of him to say that bit first," Lucius muttered, patting at his smoldering hair.

"Don't show it around just yet," Narcissa continued. "We're still working on the patent. George is ironing out some kinks, but if we can get it through before the Handheld Hearth people, the Moto-Mantle will have the sole rights to the design and Billows and his boys will have to go co-opt someone else's idea." She frowned and skimmed. "Then he just talks about design and money for a while. Shall I skip it?"

Lucius flicked the Moto open again and this time successfully kept it from bursting into flames. "Please," he begged. "That boy is doing more with my money than is respectable. I'd rather not hear about it."

"It is nice how he's matched the M on it to the M in his professional monogram," Narcissa pointed out. "I was worried he'd be too..." She tiptoed around the phrasing a moment, then finished, "shy to wield his name like this."

"Cowardly, you mean?" Lucius said softly. "It's not cowardly to be ashamed of what our name has done in the world." He shrugged. "But it's done good too. It's built hospitals and libraries and a ladies' school. He's doing that name proud."

Narcissa smiled warmly at him, and Lucius suddenly remembered she'd been in Slytherin too, however many millions of years ago. "Oh you sneaky-" he said, and leaned over to kiss her on the mouth.

"I've been trying to get you to say it aloud for years," she exulted in her customary, gracefully restrained way, muffled though she was.

"When I kiss you on the mouth," he said without pulling away, "it's supposed to stop you from being able to gloat."

"I don't know why you keep doing that," she agreed. "It's never worked."

He chuckled and leaned back into his seat to rummage around in the package. "What's next then?"

Narcissa skimmed for the next bit that didn't have to do with sales estimates and bottom lines. "The wooden box contains a Muggle DVD entitled Star Wars: A New Hope. I know you haven't a player for it or a television, but I thought you might want to watch it at the Manor when you go to air it out next week. I've had the receiving parlour redone, as Astoria doesn't have quite the socialite needs Mother does. I think you'll enjoy the film. The way Muggles have worked it leaves it something like a play done in photo form, only with sound like a portrait and a longer replaying time. It's strange, what these Muggles come up with, but very enjoyable. Don't judge it too harshly. Muggles made it before I was even born; they've done a lot more since then, but it's still a very good film."

Lucius had popped open the wooden box with trepidation, although there was nothing about it that suggested it might go up in flames. Inside was a smaller plastic box with a colourful Muggle style photo in front, emblazoned with words and the lifeless images of what he assumed were the stars of the play. Inside that was a thin silver disc with no writing or anything. He raised a brow at it doubtfully. "This isn't a portrait," he said stupidly. "It's only a reflection of myself. If it's a joke, it's poorly done," he added, temper flaring mildly at the notion Draco was making fun of him.

Narcissa scanned back. "He says we don't have a player for it. It makes sense - how else would a Muggle make an image move but by use of electricity and devices?"

Lucius still looked doubtful, but put the box away and looked through the wrappings for what else might have been in. "What's this then? Box of chocolates for mum," he decided, pulling it out and setting it aside for her. "Oh look!" He pulled out a book and began flipping through the pages idly before turning it around to the front. Then he frowned. "A Million Ways to Break Your Own Heart: Diary of an Ex-Death Eater. What's he playing at...?"

Narcissa frowned at the book as well, then scanned for a mention of it in the letter. "Don't worry," she read. "Not a single mention of us at all. It's not due to come out for another year yet - there's a bit of a bluster about letting the author publish from Azkaban. Anyway, my Ministry source managed a copy for me, and I thought you should read it before the general populace does. There'll be people asking after you once it comes out, whether our names are mentioned or not, and I wanted you to be ready. I've left you a slightly more cheerful gift inside."

Lucius frowned doubtfully as he flipped through the pages. Then he withdrew a proper photo from between the pages of the book and his face brightened considerably. He scooted his chair closer to Narcissa to show her.

She looked up from where she was scanning ahead in Draco's letter, then her face broke into shining happiness. "Oh, how beautiful they are!" she beamed. Draco laughed, his thin, characteristically strained smile having been broken by abject joy into millions of spots of giddyness all over his face. His eyes crinkled at the edges, his teeth sparkled in the sun. Beside him, in a Muggle bathing two-piece, Astoria smiled warmly. Ten year old Scorpius waved happily, mouthing Hello Grandmother and Grandfather before trying to rush off toward something off camera. "Is this supposed to be the knicknack we'll throw out once we realise he doesn't notice it's not on display? Oh that boy," she huffed in faux-exasperation. Then she continued reading: "Only slightly more cheerful because I come bearing sad news. This is the last photo of this boy you shall ever see. We lost him today; he is no more."

"What?" Lucius said sharply. "He can't have said it that plainly and meant it," he suggested.

Narcissa gazed intently at the letter, gnawing a lip unprettily in worry. "It was earlier today..." she read.

Draco lounged lazily in a beach chair, watching Scorpius stack sand by hand. He'd had a play wand for a year, and had cried bitterly when Draco'd had to take it away, but when he'd heard they were going to a beach with Muggles, the tears had dried up like they'd been faked, even though Draco knew they weren't. Scorpius had mastered the switch years ago, at least a year earlier than Draco had in his own youth. Once he'd recognised the habit, it'd had worried him until Astoria'd pointed out the good that particular characteristic had done Draco. "Put your ring on!" he called over, and was rewarded with a boyish glare.

"Aren't you glad I insisted on the beach this summer, darling?" his wife murmured, setting down their drinks before reclining in a chair next to his.

"Of course, darling," he echoed back, reaching for his pina-colada, which was a coconutty sweet thing with liquor in it. The silver box on the little portable table chimed melodiously and Astoria blew out a breath.

"You're on holiday, darling," she growled.

He smiled wanly at her. "I can't be on holiday the entire two months, darling," he insisted, reaching for the box. "I'll just be right back. Will you finish wrapping up Mum and Father's parcel for the post? And make sure he puts his ring on. Boy's got more charm than sense." He waited for her to nod before striding off. Once he was in the relative security of a stairwell leading out of the Parking Lot full of abandoned Muggle cars, he pressed the little silver M and said, "Er, hallo?" into the miniature flaring fireplace.

"It's me, George. Can you see me?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I can see some of you. It's a bit fuzzy. But I can hear you fine. What's happened?"

"Malfoy? I said can you see me?"

Draco shook the contraption and the green flames flared once before settling again. George's face lit up perfectly. "I can see you," he repeated. "And hear you. Can you see me?"

"I can now. What'd you do?"

"Shook it. Now what's going on? I'm on vacation, you know. The wife's getting boggy about it."

"It's Billows. He's been digging in your past. I guess he got ahold of a copy of that book Dad got for you. I thought you weren't in it."

"I'm not," Draco confirmed. "But people see what they want to see. I'm not afraid of Billows."

"Maybe you should be, mate," George replied cagily.

Draco frowned. "Well?" he demanded.

"His boys had a bit of a cursing spree on the warehouse. We had to evacuate."

"Are you certain it was him? Sure it wasn't any of your... side projects gone awry?"

"Come off it, Malfoy. Think I'd keep my side projects where you could get to them?" George grinned toothily. Draco grinned as well, because while there certainly had been a period of uneasy distrust between them, it had largely passed. Mostly because George had figured out he could get Draco to finance his wacky ideas if he let him in on what they were.

"Good point," Draco agreed anyway, going along with the joke. Then he frowned. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, but it was a very near thing. We've got three people in hospital sleeping it off."

"That's not so bad."

"We only have five people, Malfoy. And you and I are two of them!"

Draco huffed irritably. Even now, his wife was looking amazing on a beach full of Muggle men, and he was missing out watching her ignore them. "I meant, if they're sleeping it off, they'll be fine."

"Sure, they'll be fine," George agreed. "But I don't think hurting them was the point. It was a warning. To you, to stop patent procedures on the Moto."

Draco quirked a brow. "That's ridiculous. What makes you think that?"

George made a face. "I dunno, maybe the note they chipped into the front of the warehouse." He mimed reading it on the wall with his hand. "Stop patent on moto. This means you, Malfoy."

Draco frowned and chewed his lip in thought, skipping down a couple of steps into the garage to get a little more privacy. "Send everyone home."

"They're in hospital-!" George started in alarm.

Draco waved him off. "I meant after that. Once they're well, send them home. Stop production for now. I can do the patent paperwork from here. I only need your signature after all the legal business is done, unless you really want to be involved."

"With suits? Balls to that," George huffed. "It's all yours. I trust you."

Draco smirked. It never got old, hearing George Weasley say that. "I know. I'll send a solicitor along with the paperwork anyway. Someone you can ask if you have any questions about percentages or anything." His smile drooped. "Just make sure everyone goes home until I can sort this with Billows. Once we've got patent, he has to back off or we'll sue."

"With your legal issues? You really want to sue?"

"Of course not," Draco scoffed. "Aren't you familiar with the notion of bluffing? I just have to look confident when I say I'll sue his arse off. I haven't done anything illegal anyway, so even if we did go to trial-" A loud clatter interrupted him mid-speech. Draco whirled around, swiveling the Moto so George could get a look as well. "What was that?" he hissed.

"I don't know," George replied, sounding uncharacteristically grim. "Oh, look. What's that funny looking car parked over there? Like it was parked in a hurry, out of the lines and all. Looks a bit sinister, don't you think?"

"What?" Draco murmured, slinking back against the wall while craning his neck to see. Then he huffed. "That's my car, you dolt!"

"You're driving a Muggle car?" George whistled. "Well aren't you Mister Fancy Pants!"

"We have to blend in. It's a Muggle beach."

"You're supposed to have a license."

"You might ask your father about getting around that," Draco suggested lightly. "He's gone quite the expert. Looks like me and everything."

"You're just lucky that bird of yours can actually drive," George laughed back. "Give her a fondle for me, will you? I'm just going up the hospital to check in."

"Good," Draco approved. "And George?"

"Hm?"

"No fondling my wife. Or you won't just be visiting hospital."

"Too right," George agreed, winking up an eye. "She'd curse me into next year! Watch out for yourselves, all right? Billows is really a maniac," he added seriously.

Draco snapped the Moto shut and blew out a breath. George was right, of course, but there wasn't any sense making his family worry. He eyed his car consideringly. As a show of good faith to Scorpius, he'd wrapped up all three of their wands and locked them in the glove compartment of the rented BMW. Still within reach if he needed them, but out of sight so that none of them would be tempted unless they really needed them.

It only took him a moment to decide to get them off the beach as soon as possible. They could have just as good a time in the house; it was large and airy and the neighbors half a mile away had a dog that simply adored Scorpius. And the privacy would mean Scorpius could get his little WizKid wand back, which would distract him nicely from not being in the water.

Astoria would be more difficult, but he could manage it. With a plan in mind, he stuffed his Moto in the pocket of his trunks and started up the stairs. He'd only got up a couple of them when the ring on his finger started to tingle sharply. Draco frowned and broke into a run, taking the steps two at a time and then sprinting across the sandy boardwalk toward the beach where he'd left his family.

"'Stori!" he called once she was in sight. "What's happened?"

She jogged toward him. "It's Scorpius!" she gasped.

Draco looked around in panic. "Where the hell is he? Scorpius!" he called, reaching for the black ring on his hand.

Astoria covered his hand with her own and held up the little silver chain their son kept his ring on in evidence.

Draco's face darkened. "I thought you were going to make him put it back on," he started.

"I did," she shot back. "You know how slippery he is. I wonder where he gets it."

Draco had the grace to look abashed, then turned his attention to finding his son. "Well I know you only took your eyes off him a moment," he suggested with confidence.

She nodded and strode back toward their beach chairs. "He was playing at that mound of sand. See how he's stacked up the part of the castle around the lake?"

Draco looked at it with his head tilted. "Maybe he's just gone looking for something to be the giant squid?" he said hopefully, praying Astoria didn't sense his tiptoeing 'round the truth.

"Maybe," she said doubtfully.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, wrestling with his conscience for only a moment before blurting out: "Billows has gone mad. I was just on the moto with George - he attacked the warehouse."

"What?" Astoria hissed.

"You didn't see anyone-?"

"What!" she said again, advancing. "This isn't the first thing you say upon finding your child's missing?" she accused. "What is wrong with you?"

"Do you think I meant for this to happen? You of all people should know-" He stopped himself mid-sentence to regain his composure. He hadn't lost his head like this in years; it felt strangely nostalgic. "Let's focus on finding him. You can shout at me all you like later."

"Oh I will," she promised, but in fine Astoria form, she let it go completely for the moment and set about remembering everything she could. "I didn't see anyone that might have- Oh, there was this Muggle girl, you know the one."

Draco frowned. "Yes I do. I thought he was leaving her alone."

"Well he's not. And she's not leaving him alone either. You don't think..."

Draco was quiet a moment. She was about twelve, he figured, and she and Scorpius had been teasing each other meanly for the last two weeks. At twelve, he'd been trying anything he could to trip up his arch-nemesis in school, mostly because his father'd been so keen on it. Twelve year olds were certainly capable of doing as adults told them, even if it was mean and nasty. Maybe especially if it was.

"Look for twin sets of prints," he suggested.

"There's no way-" Astoria started, and he cut her off with a look.

"You didn't know me when I was twelve. Trust me, they can do more than you'd like to think."

Astoria frowned, but started to look around. There were only about 800 billion sets of footprints in the sands of the beach, and 150 billion around their little plot of dirt. But outside of the main concourse, a seldom traveled path in the dirt led toward a tiny cove with a cave that filled in with the high tide, which was shortly coming in. Draco followed her line of sight and took off at a run as soon as he'd made the connection she had.

She wasn't a Muggle girl after all, Draco thought madly as he feet sank sluggishly into the sand, but she was still only twelve. She wouldn't have her wand with her, but even if she did, she couldn't do magic outside of school. Unless her parents were as connected and relaxed about those rules as his own had been. He didn't recognise her, but he'd been thinking of her as a Muggle, and admitted fully to himself that it'd made her mostly unnoticeable in his eyes, except when Scorpius ran back to them after playing with her and pouted while trying not to cry. Then he'd only noticed that his distaste for Muggles had never really gone away, just lay dormant until they hurt someone he loved.

But she wasn't a Muggle girl. And she was in some fashion "hired out" by Billows to do something horrible to his son. Draco skidded to a stop outside the mouth of the cave, high tide already lipping up at his bare feet. He swung around the entrance and froze at the sight.

Scorpius and the Muggle-girl-who-wasn't were frozen too, staring at him with their hands clasped together, faces red with embarrassment at having been caught kissing.

"Dad!" Scorpius said after a beat of silence.

"Draco?" Astoria called as she came up next to him. She stopped short at the sight.

The girl yanked her hand out of Scorpius' and said, "We weren't doing anything!"

"I was just showing her stuff!" Scorpius insisted. "Stuff I can do that she can't! She's a Muggle dad, did you know-?"

"Scorpius, stop!" Draco commanded, and there was silence. Which was good, because Draco needed to collect his thoughts. A moment later, he said, "Come away from that girl," because he hadn't thought up anything else to say yet even though she wasn't an evil twelve year old working for Billows to kidnap his son and destroy him.

"Dad, no!" Scorpius begged.

"Scorpius, you come away from that Muggle, now!" It was a stupid thing to say after everything he'd done in his life up til then, which wasn't lost on Scorpius, who said with angry little tears in his eyes: "You're just like Grandfather!"

Draco frowned, stung. He turned and said, somewhat more subdued, "Come along, Scorpius," and when he looked up at Astoria, she looked so disappointed that he felt his heart break a little. He gathered up his dignity and looked over his shoulder. "You too, Miss..."

The girl looked up at him. "Mindi!" she piped, brightening.

"Mindi. We're having ice creams, if you'd like to come. And you both need rinsing in the water; you're filthy."

"Can you do magic too?" Mindi exclaimed, scampering after them as the adults led the way toward frozen desserts.

"No one can do magic," Astoria said dutifully, taking her husband's hand in hers.

"Scorpius, you shouldn't play tricks on your girlfriend like that," Draco added mildly.

"Dad!" Scorpius replied, mortified. "She's not my girlfriend- OW! Dad she hit me!"

"You said I'm not your girlfriend!"

"You're NOT!"

"Well you're not my boyfriend so there!"

Draco sighed long-sufferingly.

So it is that our little Scorpius is no more. He has grown up, having had his first kiss. Yes, Father, Muggles count. You will be pleased to know that they've since broken up - youth can be so fickle. Please give my best to Liddy - you are treating her well, I hope? I've sent her a case of butterbeer for the week you spend at the Manor. I shall be asking her if she got it, so no filching. This means you, pater dear.

Love Always,

Draco, Astoria, and Scorpius

PS: Billows blew himself up trying to set a Muggle bomb in my car and is resting in hospital. Turns out, his nephew is Aidleroy, barmy lot. See you in a month.