A Stranger Garden

Chapter 12

2050

Periodically, there would be spaces of a week at a time when Harry didn't come to spend time with him. Those days made Draco extremely lonely. He'd grown used to having Harry's company in the past forty years and, at some point without his knowledge, he'd become dependant on Harry for his emotional stability.

He suspected that was why Harry had the kitten painted into the portrait of Luxembourg gardens. Part of him wanted the kitten to wake up so he could hold her and cuddle her right now but the more sensible part told him that if that happened then the poor kitten would have died in real life. No, he was content to wait. He had an eternity to wait and spend with his pretty kitten, so a few years or decades wasn't going to make much difference in the long run.

Naming her could wait, too, until he discerned what type of personality she had so he could choose appropriately.

It had been two weeks, though, since Harry had been to see him last and Draco was becoming worried. Not only worried about Harry and wondering if he was all right - he'd taken to running to the dungeon about ten times a day in order to make sure Harry hadn't woken up - but also wondering what would happen to him if Harry just went missing or was ill and couldn't leave hospital.

"Either die or be here, Harry," he muttered to himself several times a day. "Don't just leave me in ignorance here all by myself."

Draco wracked his brain to see if he'd forgotten that Harry told him he was going away or if there was some rare artifact he was hunting down overseas for the museum, but there wasn't anything. Surely, if something were wrong with Harry someone would come and tell him. Maybe not Lily; Draco was more than aware that Harry's daughter was not impressed by the amount of time Harry spent with him and he tried to be gracious about it, but he generally failed.

She was the source of most of their arguments, if the truth were told. Draco understood, in a way, because he'd think it weird too if someone spent all their spare time talking with a portrait. Unhealthy he'd say. But Harry didn't spend all his spare time with Draco. It actually only added to no more than a few hours at night after all Harry's family duties were completed. Times when Harry would be settling for the night to read a book or watch a movie. Draco took no time away from Harry's family so, to Draco, it wasn't unhealthy at all.

And it was that point he and Harry argued over because Draco flatly refused to see that Lily had a point about it being unhealthy, whereas Harry allowed it might be but, seeing as he was happy to do it and it didn't affect any other part of his life, he wasn't going to answer to anyone about it. Draco usually ended by angrily calling Lily some unflattering name like a selfish cow, and Harry stormed out and didn't come back for a few days.

It used to make Draco fume to think of the smugness of Lily Potter, now Jamieson, smirking when she successfully got Harry to not spend time with Draco.

He tried to be mature about it; he did.

But Harry was all he had. Lily had her whole family and all her friends and Harry as well. All Draco asked for was some company at the end of the day. It wasn't too much to ask. Lily had her own life away from Harry and so Harry was entitled to his own life away from his daughter.

He would grudgingly admit that his and Harry's friendship was not conventional but they had never had a conventional relationship. If both of them had been allowed to have a normal childhood, then possibly they would have been friends in a more conventional way. As it was, this was all Draco had, and he'd be damned if he would give it up without a fight.

Not that he could actually do anything about it when no one came to see him. How did you fight someone if you had no access to them? Draco's worry and sense of solitude had become so acute that he'd taken to scouring the newspaper three or four times every day in order to double check that he'd missed nothing. Obsessive, yes, but it was the only way to satisfy himself that nothing bad had happened to Harry.

It did cross his mind that Harry had simply grown tired of spending time with a portrait. After all, it wasn't as if he was alive and could be touched or kissed or held, or touch or kiss or hold in return, for that matter. A portrait could be ignored because they weren't real people, were they? If Harry thought like that, Draco would be terribly disappointed in him because he thought they'd moved past the fact that their relationship had no physical basis; transcended the need for an actual presence before there could be a real friendship.

Harry was better than that.

No, there must be some urgent matter that Harry was dealing with that prevented him from visiting and he'd just have to wait patiently for Harry to return or for either Al or Scorpius to let him know what was going on.

Which was why he was incredibly surprised to have his evening meal interrupted by Lily Jamieson, nee Potter.

The woman was in her early forties now and was showing faint lines around her eyes. Although, allowed Draco, these might be a result of the scowl on her face at present. He could see that she looked just like her mother, although the hair was duller than he remembered the she-weasel's being. Not that he'd seen her in more than fifty years anyway.

"Mr. Malfoy."

The tone in her voice dispelled any hopes Draco had of this being a pleasant visit.

"Mrs. Jamieson."

Draco was pleased to note that she cringed at the formal address. Like she was annoyed that he was so up to date on who she was and whom she had married.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Draco asked her politely, fully aware that he might get some answers from her regarding Harry's whereabouts.

"My father will be returning to the Manor tomorrow. He is very distressed over the death of my Grandmother. I have no doubt that he will spend some time in here with you." Her nose turned up at that and Draco had a sudden vision of his father behaving in exactly the same way when he thought he was dealing with someone beneath him. How dare she? He was a Malfoy and she a mere cross between a blood traitor and a half blood. Some old prejudices rose to the surface then and he simmered. "I would rather he didn't. He needs his real family around him now. People who truly care for him and not some inanimate, selfish piece of work like you."

Draco's eyes narrowed, but that was the only alteration to his facial expression he allowed. He was better than her and refused to show how her words hurt or angered him. "I think what Harry wants is something for him to decide on his own, don't you?"

"You have him under some sort of thrall," she spat back at him. "Everyone thinks he's becoming senile in his old age. Talking to portraits, befriending portraits, falling in lo--" she stopped abruptly. "I do not appreciate people thinking that the hero, the Chosen One is growing senile."

No, Draco thought, you're just embarrassed that you're related to him. You ungrateful, spiteful bitch. You do not appreciate just what a treasure you have in your father. "As you have so kindly pointed out, I am nothing but a mere portrait and therefore can have no influence on Harry or his life. I assure you that he is not senile and I do not have him under some sort of thrall."

"You've done something to him. You're sick and vile."

Such vitriol coming from someone who should have been mature enough to know better behaviour. She must be really upset. "I'm neither of those things, I assure you, madam."

Lily huffed. "It's pointless arguing with you." She moved closer to the portrait, coming face to face with Draco. "You find a way to make my father leave you alone or I will come in here and burn every single one of these portraits until you are no more than dust under my shoe."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You'd do that in your father's house?"

"I would to get him away from you." She turned and walked back towards the door, before facing him one last time. "You might want to reassess your opinions of yourself." She pointed to the portrait of Harry chained up in the dungeon. "You don't call that sick and vile?"

Then she flounced out of the room, leaving Draco's heart hammering in his chest and his thoughts awhirl with the shock of the attack. In amongst the chaos, he managed to discern that Molly Weasley had died, Harry was distressed about it and Harry was giving the impression that he'd fallen in love with Draco to others. No wonder they thought him senile.

He couldn't help the warm glow that spread through him at the thought, though it lasted only long enough for Draco to realise how hopeless it all was.

He gave up on his dinner and went for a walk in his recently acquired garden, sighing when even that failed to lift his mood again.

.o0o.

"It seemed appropriate."

"You really didn't have to, you know. I can't imagine why you would even think of me at a time like that."

Harry shrugged. "I kept thinking that at least all the Weasleys had a place to go to pay their respects to Molly and Arthur and you had nothing, even though you're..."

"Dead myself, yes I understand, Harry, you don't have to keep tiptoeing around it. I accepted it many years ago."

"I know. It just felt weird commissioning a picture of the graveyard. There wasn't even anything left of him to bury. You know that there's just a memorial plaque there alongside your mother's grave marker, and your own. You're lucky in a way that the Ministry decided to place you all together."

"I'm sure Andromeda probably organised that," Draco replied, walking through the pictures to the graveyard. "Why do all artists insist on making cemeteries dark and foreboding?" He shivered at an imagined chill as he made his way to the grave markers. He'd come empty handed today as Harry had only just hung the new portrait in his first visit after Molly's death. Tomorrow he'd cut flowers from the garden to decorate the sites.

"I have no idea," Harry replied, sitting down on the couch, tiredly.

The plaques didn't say a lot, just names and dates, but it gave Draco some sense of belonging seeing his name alongside his parents' names. He'd been alive once; he'd had a family once, as dysfunctional as it was in the end.

When Harry sighed softly, he glanced up. "Are you all right? You look tired."

Harry rubbed his face underneath his glasses. Draco noticed that he was beginning to look his age. He wished that he could sit beside him and lend some comfort to this man who'd made his existence so comfortable by being so thoughtful.

"I am tired. It was hard seeing them all grieving again. Ginny's bitterness grows year by year and she has Ron for company now. He barely speaks to me anymore; I think he blames me for Hugo's death. Hermione tries to make up for him, but..." Harry stopped and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"I thought that after the war was over that we'd all be able to be happy. Voldemort was everything that was wrong in my life and with him gone, I thought that life would be wonderful, you know?"

"I do," Draco replied, even though he knew Harry wasn't really looking for a response.

"I think I'd forgotten that death never really goes away, it comes for us all at some point. Death and illness. And it takes whom it wants regardless of how much they're loved or needed."

"It's indiscriminant," Draco agreed.

"Over the years," Harry continued as if Draco hadn't spoken, "I've lost many people. During the war you expect it though those deaths are no less tragic. But there are still people dying from the effects of the war. Bill, a few years ago as a result of the wounds he received from Fenrir all those years ago. Now Molly. Kingsley's gone, both Hermione's parents, McGonagall. Remember Trelawney? She managed to prophesise her own death. Sometimes it feels like everyone I know is dying, Draco."

"It might seem like that, but you're here, your friends are still here and you have all your family beside you and their children. And isn't one of James' brood about to marry? There'll be great grandchildren on the way soon."

Harry smiled at that thought. "You're right, I know that. Losing Molly is like losing the only mother figure I ever had though. I can't imagine the family without her; she's always just been there, ordering everyone around in that way she had of making us feel guilty if we didn't help out." He gave a small laugh. "We used to escape outside and de-gnome the garden so we didn't have to set the table or peel potatoes. Sometimes Ron would bribe the gnomes to come back into the garden just so he'd have an excuse not to help in the kitchen."

"Must have been fun." Draco was fairly positive that it would have been anything but fun, but he wasn't about to cast aspersions on the Weasleys at this point in time. That would not be comforting to Harry.

"It was, you know, family. And as much as they fought and argued and had nothing in the way of money, they had everything in the way of love and family and always showed me such great loyalty. Molly especially. She treated me as one of her own." Harry's voice became really quiet. "I'm going to miss her terribly."

Draco spoke up just as quietly. "I remember being envious of Weasley once," he said. "Near the end of the final battle when Mrs. Weasley killed my Aunt Bella while defending Ginny. I knew I had a mother who would have done the same, but she didn't stand up to Voldemort. I don't suppose anyone could have, but Bella was the most powerful witch I've ever seen, next to Voldemort, and Mrs. Weasley stood up to her. It made me envious."

"Your mum did plenty to save you, Draco, don't diminish her attempts to protect you. She did what she could."

"Oh, I know, and believe me I know what she did, but back then, in that moment, I didn't know about the Unbreakable vow, and I was envious." Draco smiled softly. "Ever the selfish brat, huh? Always wanting what I didn't have."

"Nice to see not everything changes." Harry smiled back and Draco knew he'd be all right.

"Exactly. Besides I usually get what I want."

"I hardly think you wanted to spend an eternity trapped in a portrait, or series of them."

That wiped the smile off Draco's face, because that was exactly what he had wanted at the time. An eternity of torturing and humiliating Harry bloody Potter had been all he'd been able to think about.

"Well don't you go dying on me yet. You're still a young wizard and should have many long years ahead of you."

"I grow tired of living, Draco, but my family needs me still."

"Harry, stop this nonsense. Seventy is still young in the wizarding world. By the time you're ready to go you'll have great, great, great, great grandchildren. Hundreds of them." Draco smiled. "Imagine! Hundreds of redheads running around willy nilly and polluting everything in sight." He grinned slyly at Harry, letting him know he was joking. It was a testament to their friendship that Harry read his grin easily and rolled his eyes.

"All right, you've made your point. I'm not ready for the scrap heap yet. I get it. There's something to be said for a healthy childhood though. Early malnutrition obviously did something to the strength of my body and bones because I can feel the effects of aging already."

"How do you mean?"

"I can predict the change in the weather," Harry replied with a smile on his face. At Draco's questioning look, he continued. "My arm aches when the weather is about to change. Remember in second year how Lockhart removed all the bones in my arm?" Draco nodded, grinning. That had been hilarious. "Well, even though it's been repaired, it's never been as strong as the other arm and it aches when the weather changes."

"You thought of hiring yourself out as a barometer?" Draco laughed.

"Laugh away, funny boy," Harry retorted playfully. "We'll see how funny you think it when I put the wards back up and stop anyone but me from coming here."

Draco stopped laughing, though not for the reasons Harry probably thought. It had reminded him of Lily's threat. "Can you adjust the wards to specific people?" Draco knew wards could be done like that but he didn't know if Harry knew how to do that.

Harry nodded, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing but...well, would it be all right if you warded against anyone but you and Al and Scorpius coming in here unaccompanied? The children might come in alone and ruin one of the paintings by accident." Blaming the grandchildren was always a good excuse. So what if they thought him an arrogant snob.

He could always tell Harry what Lily threatened but Harry didn't need to hear that sort of thing and he probably wouldn't believe Draco anyway. It would just provoke an argument and then Harry wouldn't come back for days, weeks even. No, much better to get what he wanted another way.

"That might not be a bad idea, actually. That bastard of a husband of Lily's cheated on her and so she's moving in here with the kids for a while until they get things sorted out."

"Oh." Thank Merlin he'd thought to ask then or else Lily would have been in here immediately, demanding to know what he'd done to stop Harry visiting.

"Yeah. The house will be full of kids, what with Al and Scorpius' three and Lily's three."

"Right," Draco replied weakly, sure that Lily would find some way to step in between Harry and himself.