A Family Affair

After the Weasley brothers hurried off to find their beds and await their turns staking out the Manor, Severus ordered a round of drinks for the remaining group of friends. He and Remus would be Apparating to the Malfoy home shortly to begin gathering information, and he saw no need in making the journey back to Hogwarts only to leave again.

Hermione stared into her butterbeer pensively when it arrived, contemplating rather than drinking. She could feel Draco's eyes on her, and looked up at last to meet the concern in them.

"I'm all right, really," she assured him, a faint smile flickering briefly across her lips. "I want to thank you. For standing up for me. Even if what you did was a bit frightening."

Across the table, Sirius chuckled. "You were on him before I could even think about going for my wand."

"Yes, well, you have gotten slow in your old age, Sirius," Remus teased in a completely serious voice.

Draco shrugged. "I had to learn to defend myself. Couldn't expect for Sean to always get me out of trouble," he said.

Sean grinned over the top of his glass. "I introduced myself to the kid from the other side of a pistol. Neighborhood bullies had decided they didn't like him much," he explained.

"Being cornered by those bastards really made me think," Draco continued. "I knew if my father sent anyone after me, I'd be an easy target. So I had Sean teach me how to handle a weapon."

"He became kind of obsessive for awhile. Martial Arts training...self defence classes...who knows what all. But I guess it paid off, huh, kid?"

"If it gets me out of my father's house alive, then yes," Draco said quietly.

They fell into an uneasy silence, then, each wrapped in his or her thoughts about the confrontation that lay ahead. Sean, for his part, vowed to himself and whatever deities might be able to hear his thoughts that if Draco got so much as one scratch on him, Lucius Malfoy would rue the day his path had ever crossed that of Sean Jacobs.

"So what did you do to Weasley to make him so bitter?" Draco blurted out into the quiet. The look on Hermione's face made him with almost immediately that he hadn't asked.

"I married him," Hermione replied quietly.

Draco felt as if he'd been sucker punched. All of the air seemed to leave his lungs. Hermione had married Ron Weasley?

"Why?" Sean asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and disgust.

"We were married right after we left school. Ron was different back then. We had been friends for years. Everyone expected me to marry him - his family, Harry, our friends, even our teachers. So I did. We might have gone on well enough if Harry hadn't met Isabella. Every time I saw the two of them together, I knew my marriage was a farce. They had something....real. Something Ron and I could never have." Hermione sighed. "We've been divorced now longer than we were married, and he still hates me." She absently wiped away a tear.

Not knowing what else to do, Draco took her hand again, holding it gently between his own. She gave him a slight smile.

"Ron despises me and Harry despises himself and I'm left alone," she mused in a voice soft enough for only Draco to hear. "I should go," she said more loudly.

As Hermione stood to leave, Remus rounded the table. Embracing her gently, he murmured soft words of comfort. She hugged him back fiercely, and then Sirius was there, hugging her and bidding her goodnight. Sean settled for kissing the back of her hand, and Snape merely gave her a nod from across the room.

Draco knew that Hermione was not returning to Hogwarts, but to her own flat in parts unknown. Although she could Apparate home from inside this very room, Draco wanted a private word with her. "I'll walk you out," he offered.

She accepted his company without comment, and they made their way outside into the frosty night.

"Hermione...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've done nothing wrong," she assured him.

"I didn't mean to bring up painful memories," he said, suddenly fascinated with the ground at his feet.

"Those memories are never far from me, Draco. It's all right, honestly. Being around Ron for more than five minutes is just...It's just so draining."

Moving his gaze up to her face, he smiled gently. "Go get some sleep then."

Hermione nodded, but made no immediate move to leave.

Draco took Hermione's hands in his own and gave them a gentle squeeze. Leaning forward, he kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "Sleep well," he told her, his voice little more than a whisper. Dropping her hands, he stepped back, and then she was gone.

Unmindful of the cold, Draco stood perfectly still, his eyes on the spot where Hermione had been. He was still standing there when the others stepped from the cheery warmth of the Three Broomsticks some time later.

**************************

Draco remained cloaked in his own thoughts as he, Sean, and Sirius journeyed back to Hogwarts. Back in the suite of rooms that Sirius shared with Severus and Alex, Draco looked in briefly on his sleeping sister, snatched up his guitar case, and slipped out of the room. Moving quietly through the deserted hallways of the castle, Draco made his way along a familiar pathway to the one place he had been able to be alone with his thoughts as a Hogwarts student.

The astronomy tower had long been the haunt of couples desperate for a little privacy. Draco, however, had never seen the attraction. The tower was used far too often for Astronomy lessons, and was patrolled regularly by Filch and Mrs. Norris. Explorations had led him to discover a hidden corridor in the deepest parts of the dungeons; that corridor had suited his needs perfectly.

Feeling carefully along the damp wall, Draco searched for the opening to his hideaway. After some moments of groping, disappointment began to settle like a stone in his stomach. Frustrated and angry, he slammed his fists against the dungeon wall - only to have one of them slip through the illusion and into empty air.

"That only happens in bad movies," Draco mumbled to himself, hoisting his instrument case and easing through the illusory wall. Quite as a mouse, he strode down the vacant passageway intent on shutting himself into the room at the opposite end.

Easing the door open, Draco stepped hesitantly into his childhood sanctuary. He was relieved to find it deserted, as it had always been, and to see that it was exactly as he remembered it.

As in the Great Hall, the ceiling of the room was enchanted to reflect the sky. Tonight there were a few wispy clouds moving across the stars and the nearly-full moon. The beauty of the night sky was a balm, and Draco wondered briefly if whoever had enchanted and hidden this room had also used it as a place to hide away and sort out his or her thoughts and emotions.

Setting his case carefully on an aged ottoman, Draco drew his wand and lit a small fire on the hearth to chase the chill from the room. Pocketing his wand, he flicked open the latches on the case, lifted the lid, and withdrew the instrument to reverently lay it aside. Deftly placing his fingers just so, he popped the false bottom from the case to reveal what he liked to think of as his collection of contraband.

Ignoring the rest of the items concealed in custom made compartments in the case, Draco reached for a shiny cigarette tin and the lighter that accompanied it. He hesitated for a moment before prising open the tin and fishing out a home-rolled and rather illegal cigarette. Laying the tin aside, he lit the cigarette, dragging deeply and closing his eyes.

Sean, he knew, would kill him if he knew about this particular vice.

Of course, given the circumstances, he thought that death at Sean's hands had to be infinitely better than whatever hell Lucius Malfoy might come up with.

After a few deep drags, he carefully extinguished his smoke and tucked it back into the tin. Sitting with his back against the ottoman, he dragged the guitar into his lap and absently picked out a few notes, his mind on the night's events rather than on making music.

Letting his thoughts drift to his mother, he found his hands moving over the strings to bring life to an old, familiar song. Soon he was playing and quietly singing every song he knew about death and loss and pain, rending his heart even as he reached for something to heal the wounds.

When at last Draco paused to wipe the tears from his face, the sudden silence revealed something that caught him off guard: the sound of soft sobs not his own. Thinking quickly, Draco chose not to acknowledge the other presence in the room. After all, he was certain he already knew who he would see if he turned around. Instead, he began to play one last song- a song which wove a tale of loss and despair, but also spoke of hope and the strength to carry on; he was determined to end his impromptu concert on a positive note and maybe give both himself and his unexpected listener a little peace, if only for tonight.

As the last notes of the song died away, Draco heard hesitant footsteps crossing the room. He set the guitar aside, and looked up as his uninvited guest stumbled into view. The unsteady young man dropped to his knees beside Draco, looking for all the world like a lost, brokenhearted child.

Draco's first realisation was that Harry Potter had, at some point, abandoned the horribly ugly thick-framed glasses of his youth in favour of something more stylish. He wondered idly if that had been Harry's wife's doing.

The second thing that Draco realised was that Harry was quite drunk, a fact he found not at all surprising considering what Severus had told them earlier about Harry's state of mind.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Draco found himself asking, hoping fervently as the words left his mouth that Harry was not prone to tear-riddled babbling when drunk.

"I killed her," Harry whispered hoarsely. "The only person who ever really loved me, and I killed her."

There was a pause as Draco tried to form an intelligent response. After a moment, however, Harry began to speak again, his voice still low and raspy with emotion.

"So many dead because of me. My parents. Cedric. Bill. But Bella...gods!" he cried, burying his face in his hands, weeping.

Draco made no move to comfort the crying man, but simply sat still and silent, waiting for the storm to pass. After a time it did pass, and Harry spoke again.

"I want her back," he whimpered.

"Tell me about her, Harry. Tell me what she was like," Draco said quietly.

"Isabella was beautiful...so beautiful. She could have had anyone, but she wanted me. Me. Not the Boy-Who-Lived or the Gryffindor Quidditch star...but me, Harry. She thought I was funny. Said she loved the way I could never hide what I was feeling," Harry told him, smiling a little at his memories. "I thought I could never be happier than I was the day we were married. Then, just a few weeks before...before..." he inhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions under control. "Just before she died, we found out she was pregnant. We were going to be a real family."

Harry dissolved into bitter tears again. The once proud young man seemed so broken, now. It made Draco's heart ache.

When Harry's sobs subsided once more, Draco took a chance. "How do you think Isabella would feel if she saw you like this, Harry?" he asked, none too gently. "Do you think she'd be proud of the way you're carrying on?"

Harry's head shot up, his eyes alight with anger. "What are you saying?" he demanded.

"I'm just asking an honest question. What would your Bella think of you now?"

Swallowing hard, Harry lowered his head again, ashamed. "She'd be disappointed," he whispered. "She always thought I was so strong - that I could handle anything. But she was wrong. She was my strength, and she's gone now."

"Harry, you were strong before Bella came into your life. I remember. I remember how you were, even as a child. You were always so damned brave, so willing to face whatever came your way. I always envied you that," Draco confessed, wondering how the hell he had come to be counseling his childhood enemy.

Raising his head ever so slightly, Harry studied the face before him. He didn't recognise the other young man, but given his state of inebriation, that didn't surprise him.

Watching the glazed green eyes trying to focus on him, Draco smiled slightly. "Would you like me to see if I can remember the sobriety spell that all good underage Slytherins are supposed to know?"

Harry's eyebrows drew down in a puzzled frown. "You were a Slytherin." It wasn't really a question, just a simply restatement of fact.

Draco threw back his head and laughed. "Sobriety or not, Harry?"

"Yes, please," Harry said, shifting into a more comfortable position and resting his head on the ottoman.

Concentrating intently, Draco dragged up a scrap of memory and, pulling out his wand once again, muttered the sobriety incantation as he remembered it, hoping fervently that he wouldn't inadvertently hex the man instead of healing him. An instant later, Harry was clutching his head and moaning piteously.

"If you've a hangover remedy to go along with that, I'll nominate you for a Merlin," Harry said.

"I'm afraid I don't have one on hand, and I doubt Severus would be willing to hand one over. He'd likely say that it's the least you deserve for hiding in the bottle," Draco replied sagely, relieved that the spell seemed to have worked correctly.

With a sigh, Harry lifted his head and looked around, grateful for the moderate dimness of the light from the fire and the enchanted ceiling. As his eyes adjusted to being able to see clearly again, Harry studied Draco's face intently.

"Do I know you?" he asked at last.

"You knew me once, yes. I'm not really the same person now."

"Don't be cryptic," Harry moaned. "My head aches too much for that rubbish."

Draco chuckled. "Sorry. Yes, Harry, you know me."

After a few more minutes of Harry's careful scrutiny, Draco aimed his wand at himself and reversed the spells that had changed the colour of his hair and eyes. Harry's eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Malfoy?" he asked stupidly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh for God's sake," he said. "I really wish you had been at the meeting tonight, as I get tired of repeating myself. Do. Not. Call. Me. Malfoy. Malfoy is my father, and I really hope the bastard manages to get himself killed in the next few days so I never have to lay eyes on him again."

"I thought you were dead," Harry said, his brows furrowing into another frown.

"You were supposed to think I was dead. Everyone was supposed to think so. I'm glad that the ruse worked."

"I just poured my heart out to Draco Fucking Malfoy," Harry mused, shaking his head and grinning wryly.

Draco merely smiled and reached for his cigarette tin. He fished out his half-finished smoke and lit it again, taking a deep puff. Harry looked skeptical when Draco offered him a drag.

"It smells like one of Neville's botched potions," Harry noted, making a disgusted face.

"Tastes as bad as it smells, too," Draco admitted. "But it helps me relax. And helps me sleep at night. Doesn't muddle your mind like alcohol."

Harry shrugged and took a drag off the cigarette, only to be consumed by a coughing fit. He was undeterred, however, and the two men sat quietly under the enchanted sky, passing the cigarette back and forth without a word.

Draco was staring mesmerized at the flickering flames on the hearth and Harry was just beginning to feel pleasantly sleepy when the door to the little room opened, spilling harsh light from the hallway into the dimness of their sanctuary.

Irritated at the interruption, Draco glanced up to see who had dared to invade his privacy. He groaned when he saw Sean glaring daggers at him, a puzzled looking Sirius beside him pulling a handkerchief over his nose.

"What the hell is that smell?" Sirius asked.

"Cannibus," Sean replied tersely. Sirius' expression remained one of confusion. "Marijuana," Sean said. "Pot. Hash. Devil weed. ILLICIT FUCKING NARCOTICS," he roared, wheeling to face Draco. "Did you have that shit in my house?"

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, pulled his knees up, and hung his head. He didn't feel like fighting with Sean. He didn't want to deal with this.

Sean strode across the room and crouched down in front of Draco, pulling the other man's head up, forcing Draco to face him. "Did you or did you not have illegal drugs in my house?" he ground out.

With a small sigh, Draco looked away from the anger in Sean's eyes. After a moment, he closed his eyes and nodded ever so slightly.

"Dammit, kid!" Sean shouted, making Draco cringe. Sean jumped to his feet and began to pace.

Sirius moved to sit on the floor between Draco and an obviously worried Harry. He rested his hand on Draco's shoulder, giving the young man a gentle smile when he looked up.

"A substitute for sleeping potions?" Sirius guessed.

Draco gave another slight nod, refusing to meet Sirius' eyes. He knew Sirius would be as ashamed and disappointed as Sean was angry. When the older man pulled him into an awkward embrace, he was startled and confused, but he accepted the comforting gesture gratefully.

Sirius looked up to catch Sean's angry glare. "You can yell at him all you want, but you'll have to do it later. Right now, I'm going to put my boys to bed. They've both been through hell. After that I'm going to introduce you to an old friend of mine."

Sean nodded and helped Sirius to his feet. Draco turned to tuck his tin back into the guitar case only to find it missing. A mischievous glint in Harry's eyes told him exactly where it had gone to. As he moved to slip the false bottom back into the instrument case, Sean reached out a hand to stop him.

"What else is in there?" Sean demanded.

"Contraband," Draco admitted, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Show me."

Frowning, Draco did just that, pausing to explain each item's use to Sirius.

"Holy jumped up baldheaded Jesus," Sean breathed in awe. "Where did you get that stuff?"

"Rand."

"Who the fuck is Rand?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "One of my instructors."

"Your martial arts teacher gave you illegal weapons," Sean said in a flat tone that said he didn't believe Draco.

"No, he sold them to me. He didn't ask why I wanted them, and I didn't tell him. I don't think he would have understood my wanting an automatic weapon because I don't care for my father's friends. And for the record, they aren't all illegal."

Sean nodded. "Well, this explains why you're always broke, anyway. And I thought you were spending your money on women..." Sean mused.

"Typically, they spend money on me," Draco returned with a smirk.

"I guess you were more obsessed with protecting yourself than I gave you credit for, kid," Sean said, choosing to ignore his young friend's arrogant remark.

"Give it time, Sean, and you'll understand why," Draco promised as he replaced the insert and settled his guitar into its case.

Sirius wrapped his arm protectively around Harry's shoulder and steered him toward the door. "I think you should stay in my room tonight. I'm going to be gone for a bit, and I think Draco could use the company," he told his godson.

Harry, being more quick witted than most people believed him to be, knew that his godfather was giving him a convenient excuse to be away from the rooms he had shared with his wife. "I suppose I can do that," he agreed, trying - and failing - to conceal his relief at the unexpected reprieve.

Draco walked slowly, letting Sirius and Harry gain some ground on himself and Sean. Near the end of the hidden corridor, he stopped and laid a hand on Sean's arm to halt his friend. Sean turned to look at the younger man, waiting.

"I'm sorry," Draco said quietly, forcing himself to look Sean in the eye.

A flicker of a smile touched Sean's lips. "Forgiven," he said. "Doesn't seem worth being pissed about, all things considered."

"Regardless, knowing how you feel about drugs in general, I shouldn't have...."

"Drake," Sean said sharply, cutting him off. "What's done is done. We'll fight about it later, okay? Maybe this summer, on the beach in Mexico, while we're drinking girlie drinks with umbrellas and watching all the pretty senoritas...."

Draco laughed softly and shook his head. "How am I supposed to feel bad about doing something wrong when you make a joke out of it?" he asked, trying to sound stern.

Sean just shrugged. Then, with a devilish grin, he grabbed Draco in a headlock, nearly knocking the guitar case from the startled man's hand. He raked his knuckles harshly across the top of Draco's head a few times before easing his grip to let his arm drape around the younger man's shoulder. He began walking again, dragging Draco with him.

"I dunno, kid. Seems like the rest of your friends here can keep you in line without my help. Might be nice not to have to babysit you for once."

***********************************

"I see you found them," Headmistress McGonagall said as Sirius ushered Sean, Harry, and Draco through the doorway into the sitting room of his suite. The headmistress stifled a yawn, bid them all goodnight, and hurried away to find her own bed.

Sirius checked the time, nodding to himself. There was still enough time for him to get Sean to Malfoy Manor; the inability to Apparate would make travel a bit more difficult for both Draco and his Muggle friend.

"Get some sleep, both of you," Sirius suggested as he enfolded himself in his cloak. Sean followed his lead and tossed a borrowed cloak around his shoulders, looking completely at home in the unfamiliar clothing. "And stay out of trouble, will you?" Sirius added, giving his godson a quick hug before preceding Sean out the door.

Sighing deeply, Harry sank down onto the couch, kicked off his shoes, and leaned back with his eyes closed. Draco found a safe corner in Sirius' bedroom for both his backpack and his guitar case before joining Harry on the sofa. He stared down at his boots, wondering if there was a spell he could use to make them unlace themselves; it would require more effort to untie them and tug them off than he was currently willing to expend.

Draco leaned back into the cushions, wondering whether he should curl up with Alex or perhaps stretch out for a bit on Sirius' bed. He wanted a word with Severus, but surely it could wait until morning. Still contemplating alternatives, he fell asleep.