A Family Affair

The few belongings that Draco could safely carry into his new life as a Muggle - socks, underwear, two changes of very expensive tailored clothing, the old photograph, and a few toiletries - were quickly stowed in his pack. His pocket money had been counted and put aside, ready to be exchanged for Muggle money. Draco's wizard robes, wand, and schoolbooks lay abandoned on the bed.

"Do I really have to give up my wand?" he asked Sirius, a pained expression on his face.

Sirius nodded gravely. "I'll keep it safe for you," he promised.

"What's the point?" Draco retorted. "It's not likely I'll ever need it again."

"Regardless, I'll keep it safe. We've none of us any idea what tomorrow will bring. For all we know, this nightmare could all be over and done with before you even set foot on American soil."

Draco scowled. "Don't," he said sharply. "Don't you dare play optimistic and hopeful with me. We both know the odds."

"Yes, we do. However, in my experience, the odds have very little to do with what actually comes to pass."

The boy shrugged. He didn't really feel like arguing.

*******

Having slept most of the day thanks to the potion, Draco couldn't just go to bed and sleep until time to leave. With the help of Sirius and Remus, who entertained him with stories about his Mum's schooldays, Draco managed to pass the hours. When at last the two older wizards went to bed, Draco wandered again to Remus' library for a book with which to amuse himself until morning.

Later, just after breakfast, when Remus, Sirius, and Draco were sitting around the parlour sipping at their respective coffees and teas and watching the wall clock slowly ticking off the minutes, the long expected visitor arrived. A tall red-haired man appeared in fireplace, lightly coated with soot. Stepping from the hearth, he brandished his wand and murmured a spell which sent all the coal dust flying back up the chimney flue from whence it came.

"Good morning," he greeted the three other men cheerfully.

"Good morning, Bill," Remus returned with a smile, as he moved to shake the redhead's hand rather awkwardly.

"Good to see you again," Sirius said.

Draco stared blankly at the new arrival.

"Draco, this is Bill Weasley. Bill, this is Dr...erm...Michael Talbot," Remus said by way of introduction. He seemed slightly flustered.

"This is the escort Dumbledore sent me?" Draco asked, incredulous. The man had flame red hair that cascaded nearly to his waist, and a dragon's tooth earring hanging from one ear. He was dressed in snug fitting black jeans, heavy looking dragon hide boots, and a black long-sleeved tee shirt whose sleeves had been pushed up to reveal strong freckled arms. Draco thought he looked quite disreputable, but worse still the man was a Weasley.

"Albus asked me to make certain that you arrived safely at Nathan Jaffe's home since I would be travelling to the states anyway," Bill explained.

Draco crossed his thin arms across his chest, narrowed his eyes, and set his jaw. "He's a Weasley," he said indignantly, turning to look at Remus.

Fire flashed in Remus' normally calm eyes, and Draco involuntarily took a step backward. "I don't know what your implying Malfoy, but Bill Weasley is a damn fine wizard, as are all the Weasleys. If you'd set your damned arrogant prejudices aside for five minutes, you just might learn a few things from him."

"Remus," Bill said soothingly, resting his hand gently on the side of Remus' neck and stroking the older man's jaw line lightly with his thumb. "I'm certain he didn't mean to imply anything," Bill said, giving Draco a glance that said that the boy had one chance to wiggle out of the hole he had dug for himself before both Bill and Remus decided to tear him limb from limb.

The veiled threat in Bill's eyes only served to fan the flames of Draco's temper. "Of course I didn't mean to imply anything. Why would I settle for inferring what I can say outright?"

"Draco!" Sirius warned. He took the boy by the shoulders and forced him to look away from Bill and Remus, to look Sirius in the eyes. "Whatever grudge you hold against the Weasleys, you might want to think about where it came from. Think, Draco! Can you honestly believe anything that your father ever told you?"

A flicker of hurt flashed across Draco's pale face before he set his mask of defiant arrogance firmly back into place.

"You're going to be stuck with Bill for the next twenty-four hours, give or take. Give him a chance, and get to know him before you judge him. You just may find out that you are not the only person Lucius was wrong about."

Nothing wavered in the boy's demeanour. He gave no indication that he had even heard Sirius, much less that he was thinking over the older wizard's words. Sirius sighed and stepped away.

The blonde boy's eyes wandered back to look at Bill and Remus. Bill had moved his hand from Remus' throat, but he was still standing very close to the older man. Draco realised with a start that Remus' fingers were curled into Bill's hand, and he looked away quickly.

"Look, I know that the Malfoys and the Weasleys don't exactly like each other," Bill said. "However, as far as I know, the Weasleys hold no grudge against the Talbot's. Perhaps thinking of it that way could make a difference? In any case, we've only got to endure one another's company for the next day. I think we'll both survive it, don't you?"

Draco pursed his lips. "I haven't any choice, do I?" he said. "I've got to go and get my things." He strode out of the room without a backward glance.

"It's a good thing you've got your father's temperament rather than Molly's, else that boy wouldn't live to see America," Sirius noted.

"I'm just glad he doesn't look like his father," Bill said, pulling Remus into a warm embrace to the older man's embarrassment. "If he looked like Lucius, I would never be able to pull off this 'pretend he's someone else' thing and I'd likely have cursed him already." Addressing himself to Remus he said, "Quit fighting me, Remi. It isn't like Sirius has never seen anyone hug before."

Sirius threw a lopsided grin at the red-haired man. "I've seen a good deal more than that," he assured him.

"Useful information," Bill said. "If you've seen so much, you surely can't mind my doing this," he added, tipping Remus' face up to tenderly brush his lips against those of the older man.

"If you two are done snogging, I believe we are supposed to be leaving?" Draco snapped from the doorway.

Remus jumped slightly and pulled away from Bill, a faint blush creeping into his face. Bill merely chuckled. "We are rather short on time," he agreed.

"Let's get on with it then," Draco shot back.

"Come on then," Bill said, reaching for the tin of Floo powder on Remus' mantle. He opened the tin and held it out to Draco. "Your destination is The Burrow. I've got to pick up my things there, and it's much closer to the airport. Go on now. I'm right behind you."

Remus offered his hand to Draco, who hesitated only a moment before shaking the older man's hand. "Good luck, Michael," Remus said.

Sirius offered his hand as well. As Draco placed his hand into Sirius', the older wizard gave into impulse and pulled the boy into a brief hug. "You'll be fine, Draco," he assured the boy.

Without saying a word to either man, Draco tossed the Floo powder into the fire. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and clearly stated 'The Burrow' before stepping into the green flames.

As soon as the boy had disappeared into the fireplace, Bill shook Sirius' hand. He hugged and kissed Remus again.

"Be safe," Remus whispered.

"I'll be back soon," Bill promised. One last kiss and he too stepped into the green flames and vanished, leaving behind the two old friends who for similar but separate reasons were suddenly bereft and lost.

******

Upon arriving at the Burrow, Bill ushered Draco to a waiting car. Yet another Weasley was sitting in the driver's seat, fiddling with the car stereo while he awaited his brother's arrival. He looked up as Bill opened the rear door for Draco to climb inside.

"That's Malfoy?" he asked, his eyes taking in the Muggle style clothing, limp black hair, and vivid green eyes.

"Honestly, Charlie! What's the good in his having a new identity if you go around announcing to the world that he's Draco Malfoy?" Bill admonished him.

"You're hardly the entire world, regardless of what your ego tells you," Charlie shot back good-naturedly as he started the car and headed away from the Burrow.

Draco stared out the window, watching the landscape slide by and trying to ignore the Weasley's banter. An unbelievably short time later, they arrived at the airport.

"Stay close to me," Bill insisted as he led Draco into the terminal. Draco complied automatically as he tried to stare about in all directions without seeming to stare. Exeter International Airport was completely Muggle and therefore fascinating to the boy.

Bill led Draco through check-in and then looked at his watch. He had attempted to schedule their arrival at the airport to limit the amount of time Draco had to spend out in the open among the Muggles. They were right on schedule. Nodding slightly to himself, he continued on to the departure lounge.

As Bill dropped into a chair to wait for the boarding call, Draco wandered over to the windows, staring outside in amazement. Although he had read a little about the Muggle version of flying, nothing had prepared him for anything so vastly different from flying on broomsticks.

The massive machines waiting outside the terminal were unlike anything Draco had ever seen. Muggle aircraft did not pass over either the Malfoy Manor or Hogwarts, so the boy had not even glimpsed an airliner from a great distance. He stood mesmerized, watching the activity on the runway, a slight thrill of both apprehension and excitation running through him.

At last boarding was announced for Bill and Draco's flight. Bill led the youngster to their seats, stowed their packs, and settled in for flight. In the seat beside him, Draco peered out the window, trying to take everything in.

After some time, a flight attendant spoke to the passengers, instructing them to buckle their safety belts and giving them information of emergency and safety protocol. Shortly thereafter, the plane began to move, taxiing out to the runway to prepare for takeoff.

Bill watched the boy beside him, wondering if Draco would be afraid of flying for the first time. The eyes which met his were filled not with fear but with excitement. Draco Malfoy had never looked more like a delighted child than he did in that moment.

Soon the plane began to roll down the runway, gaining speed at a tremendous rate. Then the nose pulled up, and the plane shot up into the sky. Draco's stomach did a nauseating flip that reminded him strongly of his Quidditch playing days. He looked out the window to see the ground below growing farther and farther away, and he felt a slight pang at leaving his homeland behind. In fact, he felt rather like crying, which of course he would not do. He slipped his hand into his pocket, tightly grasping the object there.

With a sigh, he willed his hand away from his pocket. Turning to look at Bill, he found that the man had his nose buried in a book and was completely ignoring Draco's presence. Draco turned away again and rested his head on the cool window pane, watching as the ground below was hidden by fluffy white clouds.

After battling inwardly with himself, he cast another glance at Bill to find that the older man was still ignoring him. Surreptitiously, he grasped the object in his pocket. He ran his thumb along the length of the vial in his hand, thinking about what Sirius had said about not having magical potions in the Muggle world. This might very well be the last sleep potion he ever had in his possession. This might be his last chance to feed what had long ago become a dangerous addiction to the one thing that could make the rougher parts of life bearable.

Draco sighed, remembering when he had first developed a taste for sleeping draughts. At the beginning of the summer holidays following his fourth year at Hogwarts, his father had been forced to come and find Draco when the boy had not exited the train with the rest of the Hogwarts students. Draco, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle had all been lying in the corridor, unconscious and covered in hex marks. Draco had been bested once again by Harry Potter and his two annoying friends.

Lucius had not been pleased.

The older Malfoy had set about 'correcting Draco's education', teaching him all manner of curses and counter spells. Draco had worked for hours each day, often failing to block the curses his father was teaching him to defend himself against. As an added bonus, Lucius insisted that Draco teach himself the counter curses, refusing to remove the effects of the spells he had thrown at his son.

When the strain on his overwrought mind and body had manifested itself as insomnia, Draco, who was an excellent potions student, set about resolving the problem with sleeping draughts. By the time the summer holidays ended, Draco was becoming dependent on the potions. By the time he had gone into hiding with Sirius and Remus, he was an addict.

Oh, Draco knew that there was nothing physically addictive about the sleeping potion he brewed. It was not like a Muggle narcotic - the body did not become dependent on it. No, the addiction was psychological. In Draco's mind, it was just another proof of his own weakness.

Just once more, he told himself, flicking the cap off of the vial. He lifted the potion to his lips, and took just a mouthful - enough to put him to sleep, but not keep him asleep. He replaced the cap and glanced again at Bill, whose attention was now fixed on a very pretty young male flight attendant. Draco pressed his forehead to the window again, and drifted off to sleep with the vial still clenched firmly in his hand.

*********

Draco awoke a short time later to Bill calling his name and shaking him slightly. "We're there?" he asked groggily when he realised that the aircraft was no longer moving.

Bill laughed. "Hardly," he said. "We're in Dublin. We change flights here."

Groaning Draco attempted to stand, only to be rather forcible restrained by the safety belt he had forgotten all about. Wincing, Draco unfastened the belt and pushed himself to his feet. Bill handed him his backpack, and the two made their way through yet another airport.

"How many times do we have to go through all of this?" Draco groaned.

"Only once more, thankfully. In..." Bill pulled the itinerary from his back pocket and scanned it. "In Chicago. That's somewhere in the states."

Draco nodded dully. He was still sleepy from the potion. Perhaps it hadn't been such a wise idea, after all.

Bill took the boy gently by the arm and steered through the maze of corridors and crowds to a small airport restaurant.

"What is that?" the boy asked, his patrician nose wrinkled up, as he spotted the strange food the restaurant served.

"Pizza," Bill replied, amused. "You've never had pizza? You're missing out."

Bill ordered for the both of them and they sat down at a corner table to eat. Draco looked at his pizza sceptically, over at Bill who was biting into his slice with a look of sheer bliss, and then back down at the plate in front of him. Shrugging he lifted the pizza to his mouth and tentatively bit into it. It wasn't half bad. Neither was the dark fizzy drink that Bill had bought for him. Muggle food, at least, was tolerable.

******

After finishing their meal, Draco and Bill prowled through a little shop filled with travel souvenirs, books, magazines, and sundries. Draco's money had yet to be changed for Muggle currency, so he was loathe to purchase anything, although he thought a book might be a good investment. He thumbed through several novels, completely at a loss. He had no idea which Muggle authors or books might be a worthwhile read.

"Find something you like?" Bill asked at last.

Draco shrugged. Although he had to admit that Bill Weasley wasn't anywhere near as annoying as his younger brother, Ron, Draco still felt uncomfortable around him. He certainly didn't want to ask his advice on Muggle literature.

Bill, however, was rather perceptive. He had grown up with seven younger siblings after all, and he had learned a great deal from them all about interpreting things left unspoken. His relationship with Remus Lupin had helped him hone those perceptions.

The older man scanned the book titles, searching for something that might hold the child's attention during the ages long voyage to the United States. His eyes fell on 'The Hobbit' and his lips curled into a grin. He and his brothers had read through more than one copy of the Muggle classic. On impulse, he purchased the novel for Draco, even though a voice in the back of the mind said the boy would likely pick the story to pieces in the most critical manner.

"I thought you might like something to read." Bill said, handing the bagged novel to Draco as he escorted the younger wizard from the shop. "Since you don't know much about Muggle culture, I thought I'd introduce you to a classic of sorts."

Seated in the departure lounge, Draco pulled the book from the bag. "The Hobbit?" he asked derisively. "What is a hobbit?"

Bill merely smiled. "Read it and find out." With that, he fished his own battered paperback from his pack and began to read.

Draco wrinkled up his nose and frowned down at the book in his hands. Coming from a Weasley, it might be some sort of horrible joke. Then again, Bill had so far proved to be rather un-Weasley-ish. Still frowning, Draco slouched in a chair, trying not to think about how his mother would have admonished him to sit up straight, and opened the book.

He became so engrossed in the masterfully woven tale that Bill had to call him three times to get his attention when it was time to board.

On the plane, Draco forgot all about his potion and lost himself in the story of Bilbo Baggins. Sometime toward morning, he drifted off into a completely natural sleep with the book open in his hand.