Breakfast at Natalie's

Hermione was right--Natalie was frantic when they returned. Malfoy's hand had barely touched the doorknob when the doors were suddenly flung open.

"You're alright," breathed Natalie, taking in the sight of their disheveled appearance. She gasped when she saw the dried bloodstains on Malfoy's shirt. "Oh my God! Is that blood?"

"It's not mine," said Malfoy, stepping into the house. His cheeks tingled at the sudden sensation of warmth.

"Well, whether it's yours or not, it's blood," said Natalie, conjuring a clean shirt for him and shoving it into his hands. "Put this on."

Malfoy obediently changed shirts and allowed himself to be ushered into the kitchen where Natalie presented him with a cup of tea. He stirred it absentmindedly, the spoon making gentle clinking sounds as it brushed the delicate porcelain. Hermione sat across from him, also silent. He wondered what she was thinking.

"So," said Natalie, breaking the silence, "would you like to tell me how you managed to get out of there alive? Or am I going to have to wait to read it in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?"

"I went to the apartment," said Malfoy, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Broke down the door... He had a gun."

"He's a wizard," said Hermione, and they both looked at her.

"But he had a gun," said Malfoy, as if wizards weren't allowed to have guns.

"He told me that he didn't finish magic school...that he went to a Muggle university..."

"And why would we believe that?" said Malfoy.

"I don't know! It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Nothing makes sense right now," said Malfoy. "How the hell did I get here?"

"Will the two of you stop being all angsty?" said Natalie. "What is the matter with you, Draco?"

She gave him a look as if to say, "You've got her back. Now what?"

"Charlie's dead," said Malfoy flatly.

Natalie's hand flew to her mouth. "D-dead? He c-can't be." Even after only knowing her brother for such a short time, she already knew that he and Charlie were best friends.

"Well, he is," said Malfoy. "Her husband shot him." His fists clenched under the table.

"He's not my husband anymore," said Hermione. "I signed the divorce papers."

"That doesn't change the fact that he's dead," snapped Malfoy.

"I'm not the one who was holding the gun!"

"You might as well have been."

"Are you saying that I'm the one to blame for all this?" said Hermione, drawing herself up. "Are you telling me that it's my fault that I got kidnapped and...and..."

"Look, this is silly," said Natalie placatingly. "No one's to blame."

"Quite the contrary," muttered Malfoy.

"I heard that," said Hermione.

Their argument was interrupted by the ringing of Malfoy's phone. He took it out of his pocket and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Malfoy," boomed Kingsley's deep voice. "Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here, Kingsley," he replied wearily.

"Good," said Kingsley, lowering his voice to a normal volume. "I wanted to discuss with you the details of the service...for Charlie."

"Oh," said Malfoy. "Yes, of course."

"I have spoken with Elizabeth...er, Liz," continued Kingsley, "and she has agreed that the service will take place tomorrow morning, promptly at ten."

"Where is it going to be?"

"She's requested to have it in the cemetery where the rest of her family is buried. We'll be taking Portkeys."

"Do I need to bring anything? Flowers?"

"Flowers will be available," said Kingsley. "Would you like to make a speech? I will be speaking...of course, it's entirely up to you..."

"No," said Malfoy. "I don't want to." He didn't think he could bear it.

"I understand." There was a slight pause. "And how are you holding up?"

"I'm...fine," he lied.

"Good," said Kingsley, not really believing him. "Well, I've got more calls to make. I'll be seeing you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you."

He hung up and set the phone on the table with a dull thud.

"The service is tomorrow," he said dully.

"I'll take the day off," volunteered Natalie.

"I will too," said Hermione.

"No," he said, his eyes blazing. "I don't want you there."

"Fine," said Hermione, struggling to disguise her trembling voice. She dropped her napkin on the table and left the room.

"You shouldn't be so hard on her, Draco," said Natalie, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"She doesn't know what she's done to me," he said, hiding his face in his hands.

----------------------------

He slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning endlessly. And then the dreams came.

He was running with Hermione, gripping her hand tightly as they stumbled through a dark alleyway littered with trash.

"I--have--to--stop," panted Hermione, slumping against the wall.

"We have to keep going," said Malfoy, trying to help her up.

"I can't," she said, clutching her stomach, which was suddenly as round as a Quaffle.

"He'll kill us both."

"Then let him," she said, wincing.

"I won't," said Malfoy. They heard footsteps, then a familiar voice.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

"Stay still," whispered Malfoy. "Don't move."

"Too late for that," said the voice, and Malfoy wheeled around. A hooded stranger stood in the narrow alleyway, pointing a gun at his heart.

"Take me," said Malfoy immediately. "Leave her alone."

"A man willing to lay down his life for his beloved..." sneered the voice. "How touching." His laugh made Malfoy's hair stand on end. "No. I'm going to kill you both tonight."

"Not if I kill you first," said Malfoy, holding his wand in preparation. As he opened his mouth to say an incantation, his wand gave a squeak and turned into a bouquet of flowers.

"Flowers? Oooh, I'm so scared...maybe they'll be useful at your funeral."

Malfoy stood there, frozen, gaping at the useless flowers in his hand.

"Draco," moaned Hermione, "I...can't..."

He crouched down beside her, throwing the flowers aside.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured, stroking her hair.

"It's...time..." said Hermione, her pupils dilating in pain. Her back arched, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how. He didn't know anything about childbirth. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was over. Her body relaxed and fell limp. Malfoy looked down at the pavement, his hands ready to scoop up the newborn. Instead, he saw a writhing mass of baby pythons, slippery and wet. He yelped, leaping backwards as the snakes slithered away. He tripped over an empty beer bottle and fell, scraping the palm of his hand. When he raised his head, he saw the hooded stranger looming above him.

"Filth..." he hissed, pulling back the hood to reveal none other than Charlie Jenkins.

When Malfoy awoke, he did not recall the dream, only that it was disturbing. He fumbled for his slippers, wincing as his feet made contact with the chilly wood floors. He climbed into the shower, feeling his tense muscles relax as the water magically adjusted to the perfect temperature. He toweled off, stepping into black dress robes and glancing in the mirror to make sure it fit properly.

"You look nice today," said Natalie, when he walked into the kitchen. "Very handsome."

"Thanks. How come you're not at work?" he asked, going over to the coffee maker.

"I took the day off, remember?"

"You didn't have to," he said.

"Well, someone has to look after Cassie and Riley," she said.

"What?" said Malfoy. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to be angry when I tell you this, but Hermione called Amy last night and said that we 'no longer need her services.' Those were her exact words."

"Of course we need her!" said Malfoy furiously. "We spent so much time trying to find the perfect tutor for them...I can't believe this...when did this happen?"

"While you were in your room. I'm sorry, Draco," apologized Natalie. "I couldn't stop her."

"I know." He sighed bitterly. "Great. Now what are we going to do?"

"I'll look after them while you're at the service, so you don't have to worry about that. We'll figure the rest out later." She wiped her hands on a towel and looked at the clock. "You should go. You're going to be late."

"Thanks, Natalie," he said, as she helped him with his coat. Still fuming, he Apparated to the ministry.

"There you are," said Kingsley, when he walked out of the lift. "I nearly thought I'd have to leave without you."

Kingsley looked very somber in his shining black robes.

"Now, everyone grab hold," he said, motioning toward their Portkey, a battered chair that was missing one leg. The assembled party gathered closer, and Malfoy reached out to the touch the scarred wood. "One...two...THREE!"

There was a whoosh! And an uncomfortable lurching sensation for a fraction of a second as they traveled. And just as suddenly, Malfoy's feet hit sold ground. He staggered away from the Portkey, which glowed blue and disappeared.

He glanced at his surroundings: they were standing in a small cemetery, a few worn headstones scattered about in the frozen ground. A bare oak tree's branches spread wide overhead, like giant arms opening up towards the pale, winter sky.

"Over here," said Kingsley, tapping him on the shoulder and indicating the rows of seats. Malfoy nodded and sat in the second row with some of Charlie's closest friends. He looked up politely when the Minister of Magic began to speak.

When the speeches were finally over, they were allowed to walk past the open casket to pay their last respects before the burial. Malfoy stood up and approached shakily, fearful of what he might see. It turned out that there was nothing to be afraid of. Charlie had been dressed in his best robes, a peaceful look on his face. Malfoy half expected him to jump up and yell "Ha, gotcha!" He couldn't help but smile at this though. When he looked up, he saw Liz, Charlie's fiancé staring at him with an expression of hate. Hastily, he wiped the smile off his face and went over to purchase flowers to place on the grave.

When the ceremony ended and most people had expressed their condolences and left, Malfoy ventured to Charlie's freshly dug gravesite. He had purchased the most expensive and best flowers for Charlie, even though he knew that if his friend were here, he would scold him for wasting money on something that faded away so quickly. He set the flowers where he assumed Charlie's head would be, and knelt in front of the headstone.

He stayed there, just remembering. He felt something wet on his cheek and was astonished to find himself crying. He wiped away the tear with the back of his hand.

"Feeling remorseful?" sneered a female voice. He looked up, startled, and found Liz staring down menacingly.

"Liz," he said softly, standing up. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sure you are," said Liz, folding her arms across her fur coat. "If it wasn't for you, he'd be here right now."

He blinked, shocked at the tone of her voice. "Liz, it was an accident. We tried the best we could to save him."

"But it wasn't good enough!" she said, her voice breaking. "Just like you thought simply being an Auror wasn't good enough. You had to be the best. You wanted all the glory. All for that stupid Auror of the Year award. I know, Charlie told me about it."

"It wasn't like that," protested Malfoy. "This was a personal thing, and Charlie wanted to come with me, so I let him."

"You could've stopped him," she said, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief.

"He wouldn't have listened," said Malfoy, shaking his head. "Look, Liz. Charlie died a hero. It's what he would've wanted."

"A hero? A hero?" Her eyes narrowed. "What difference does I make how he died? It all comes to the same end--we're here and he isn't."

"I can't change that. You know I can't. No one can." Then suddenly, he thought of something. "Hey, do you believe in psychics?"

"W-what?"

Malfoy conjured a piece of paper and a quill, scribbling down a name on a piece of paper. He gave it to Liz, who looked highly insulted.

"Madame Morisette? Is this a joke?"

"No," said Malfoy excitedly. "She's a real psychic. She can speak to the dead. She took me to my parents."

"But your parents are..."

"Dead. Yes, exactly."

Liz gave him a strange look, tucking the paper inside her pocket.

"Time to go," said Kingsley, putting a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

"Thank you for arranging this, Mr. Shacklebolt," said Liz, mustering up a smile.

"Not at all," said Kingsley. "And please call me Kingsley."

"Yes, Kingsley," she said. "Well, thank you."

"We'll be going now," said Kingsley, steering Malfoy away. They said nothing as they reached out to the take the last Portkey back to the office.