We Wasted Years

Draco ambled down the stone hallway expecting a migraine any second. He walked with straight posture, as always, down to the farthest of many similarly wooden doors. His footsteps magnified the emptiness of the hall. In the Manor, they seemed to follow him everywhere. His fingers closed around the brass doorknob and he swiftly opened the door to his office where a rather large man sat, with his back to the door, in a chair across from a large steel desk. It was late evening, and the only light came from the fire crackling in the stone fireplace.

"Mr. Malfoy, how nice of you to keep your guests waiting," the man said without turning around.

Draco stepped just inside the office before closing the door. His office was not very large, but there was just enough room for him to get his work done, or to escape his lonely castle and his lonely wife, even if for only a few moments. Sometimes, when he'd spent too much time there alone, he found himself pretending he was living another life. Those moments never lasted very long and Draco despised himself all the more after every time he caught himself doing it. Then, to follow the usual pattern, he would be filled with a longing to be back at Hogwarts of all places, in his last year; the last time he could remember being happy. Damn it, he was doing it again! He cleared his throat, hoping to clear his thoughts at the same time.

"I was just informed of your arrival, Gerard," Draco replied, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice as much as possible.

The last person he wanted to see was his father-in-law, Gerard Kingsley, this afternoon. He'd had enough dealing with his wife Elena last night. She was about three months along with their first child and naturally, had been throwing up all night. Draco had to sleep on a couch in their main foyer so that she wouldn't keep waking him up every time she went running into the bathroom. It was cold down in the main foyer, the coldest place in the whole castle, if that were actually possible to decipher, and Draco's day hadn't gone well, to say the least.

"Honestly, your house elves are getting lazy. Enforce some discipline, Draco, draw the line," Gerard advised him and Draco finally decided that he might as well sit down.

After seven years of marriage to his daughter, Draco could read Gerard like a book. He knew Gerard had something important to discuss with him, or else he wouldn't have come all the way to Draco's office; actually he probably wouldn't have even come to see Draco in the first place, only Elena.

"Really, it doesn't leave a good impression on guests," Gerard continued, but Draco ignored him.

He didn't want to have to deal with house elves right now, even though he knew Gerard was right. Ever since Lucius died two years ago, they slowly became less and less obedient. Draco stopped caring about keeping them in line, and in turn they stopped being afraid of him.

"You aren't here to discuss how I discipline my house elves, I hope," Draco inquired, looking down on Gerard icily.

Draco's own chair and desk were a few inches taller than the rest of the furniture; it was his father's ingenious idea, probably the only one that ever had anything to do with interior decoration, but brilliant nonetheless.

"You're right. I've got quite a few more meetings today, so I shall get right to the point." Gerard cleared his throat.

He was large in both senses, wide and tall, but not taller than Draco. Gerard's short hair was very close to black but a little lighter, and thinning. His side burns traveled down his cheeks and met on both his chin and his upper lip. He looked almost like a giant teddy bear, but Draco knew that looks can sometimes be deceiving. He had a firsthand example to prove it. Gerard was mean, tough, and intimidating to most people, unless they were on his good side. Unfortunately for Draco, he hardly ever was.

"Alright, let's not waste anyone's time then, shall we?" Draco persisted, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his leather back armchair.

"Very well, you are aware of my status in the American Wizarding Society, I assume." Gerard paused then, awaiting a conformation.

"Yes, an equivalent to perhaps, my wizarding status in England, minus the millions in inheritance, if I'm not mistaken." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't help the smugness spreading over his face.

"Well actually we've been sharing your father's inheritance for the last... seven years now. He made bloody sure of that before he left, didn't he?" Gerard replied glancing around the office as though all of it was his before his gloating eyes returned to Draco's.

"I have officially lost interest in this meeting. Would you kindly get the hell out of my house?" Draco's temper was dangerously near shattering. Gerard's words had been a slap in the face, a mockery of how Draco had wasted seven years of his life chained to a woman he not so much as liked, than loved.

"Come now Draco, you've known the purpose of your wedding from the beginning. Now don't you want to hear my proposal?" Gerard coaxed without even getting up out of his seat.

"Not particularly, no. Gerard, it was nice seeing you." Draco walked with quick steps to the door and held it open wide motioning for Gerard's exit.

"You and I both know you're reputation, Mr. Malfoy. We both know how picky you are with your investments, whatever they may be-"

"I have every right to be picky, Gerard," Draco interrupted, still holding the door open and now clenching savagely onto the handle.

"Not only are you picky, but you're impatient. You pull out of deals half way through the construction because 'you're bored'; I think you once said." Gerard mumbled the last bit to himself.

"And your point is?" Draco was getting sick of Gerard's analysis of his work ethic.

"I've come here this morning to propose a deal to you that will, I have no doubt, spark your interest. Now if you come and have a seat we can discuss it properly." Gerard motioned back to Draco's chair.

"What does it matter if I sit? We both know you've already decided that I am going to endorse this project of yours whether I like it or not," Draco said, closing the door anyway. He walked back to his desk in defeat.

"Well, yes, but you might as well sit while I tell you the specifics anyway. You'll be more comfortable that way."

Gerard smirked as Draco plopped sloppily back down into his armchair giving etiquette no thought whatsoever. Draco lifted his feet onto his desk and crossed his ankles even, as he waved Gerard on. "Go on then, if you must."

"I want to build a wizarding school in America, quite like the one here in England, what's the name-"

"Hogwarts," Draco answered sharply feeling like he had just swallowed his tongue. He put his feet quickly back on the ground and sat up very straight, but Gerard didn't notice.

"Yes, Hogwarts." He nodded snapping his fingers. "I want there to be a Hogwarts equivalent in America so that American witches and wizards can have a wizarding education, too. Building this school will be one of the last few steps in my plan to bring a wizarding movement across the Atlantic. I've already gotten everything set-up and I've been working with an architect on the plans for the past few months; he's very good."

Gerard Kingsley was a very influential name in the United States. Draco knew that he had spent his life trying to promote wizardry in America and he had done a pretty good job thus far, with Draco's money. Surely this case wouldn't be much different.

"Where do I come in, then?" Draco asked, not really wanting to know, and yet half curious that Gerard hadn't mentioned that part yet.

"Normally I would just ask you for the investments needed and be on my way, but this time, I'm going to ask for a little more out of you," Gerard warned looking Draco in the eye. "I think you and Elena should take a break; go on a little vacation. How does Pennsylvania sound?" Draco didn't really have an answer. He was speechless. Gerard was joking; there was no doubt in Draco's mind.

"You're full of shit," Draco scoffed, still stunned.

Gerard only grinned; there was a malicious twinkle in his eye telling Draco that he found great humor in his reaction. Gerard shook his head no, but it was more of a tiny twitch that Draco thought he imagined.

"What's the catch, Gerard? Why are you sending us out on one of your little excursions? You're fully capable of handling it yourself." Draco raised his eyebrow slowly, calculatingly.

"Well, actually, I wanted you there to oversee everything...to be my eyes while I travel all over the rest of the country to promote its first year opening. It must be big! You're the only one I would trust, Draco," Gerard finished, sounding warm for the first time since he had arrived. Draco knew better. Of course Gerard would trust him; it was Draco's money being watched over!

"How wonderful," Draco drawled sarcastically, "I suppose I don't have a choice."

"No you don't, but I think it would be more interesting than sitting around here for the next six months or so," Gerard stated matter-of-factly.

"Six months! It's going to take that long?" Draco was surprised.

He was familiar with construction; his money normally went toward architectural funding and he had learned a lot from being on the inside, but he was starting to find out that he still had much more to learn about the entire process.

"It's an approximate, Draco, and I think it would do you two some good to get out of here for a little while," Gerard admitted. "You and Elena."

"Well then, when do we leave?" Draco asked, exhaling his breath and conveniently changing the subject.

"Tomorrow morning," Gerard answered. "You'll Floo yourselves into my home in Philadelphia where you'll meet the architect I was telling you about, Caleb O'Brien, and the contractor should be coming too, Earl Matthews, but neither of them will be coming until the weekend."

Why did he have to come so much earlier than the others to Philadelphia, wherever that was, and why did Elena have to come with him? What was he going to do all day long?

"And Elena will have plenty to do while she's there. I've invited Caleb to bring his wife along to give her some company. Earl's wife passed away last year so I'm afraid it will just be the two of them. Damn, I can't remember her name." Draco cleared his throat to stop Gerard from rambling on.

"Well, I really must be going, and it's getting late. I'll see you and Elena tomorrow morning. Tell her I love her," Gerard added taking Draco's hand in a firm business-like shake.

Shock triggered his instinct and almost made him recoil at the words of love, but luckily his determination, or stubbornness, made him hold onto Gerard's hand until Gerard let go first. How could Draco just tell Elena that "her father loved her" when he had never even said those words to her himself?

Words had hardly ever passed between the two of them at all in their almost seven year marriage, unless it was necessary. Draco closed the door behind Gerard knowing that he would let himself out, and then he retreated back into his armchair. He'd only ever loved one person, but that was before his father and Gerard Kingsley had arranged his marriage to Elena. It was so very long ago that it made Draco feel ancient, and he was only twenty-seven years old. He didn't want to think about the past any longer so he decided that he should find Elena and tell her to pack up for tomorrow, or make sure that she was still alive at least; he hadn't seen her since he left her in the bathroom last night.

Slowly he rose from out of the armchair and made his way out of his office, back down the hall to where the spiral staircase took him up to their bedroom.

The door was at the top of the stairs, directly to the right, and Elena always kept it shut. It was more her room than it was his. She hardly left its confines during the day, except for an occasional meal, but only when her stomach ached with hunger. So Elena stayed in their bedroom and Draco spent most of his time in his office or away from the Manor all together. The only time the two of them spent together was during the night when they had to share a bed as man and wife.

Draco slowly opened the door to a pitch-black room straining to see the form of Elena. The room was entirely empty making the vastness of it seemed like an eternity. The room was three times longer than it was wide making it more of an apartment than just a bedroom. And actually, in a sense it was an apartment for Elena. She had arranged a living room set in the front half of the room closest to the door, while their "bedroom set" took up the back half of the room. There was a thin beam of light, a strip from under a doorway glowing halfway down the length of the room on the left side; Elena's bathroom. He had his own bathroom opposite hers on the right wall.

Draco closed the door loudly, as if to give Elena a warning of his entry into their room. Then with one swish of his wand, the torches along the walls lit up illuminating the room. Draco glanced around the room one more time to make sure Elena was in her bathroom, like he thought. When he was satisfied, he crossed the room to his own bathroom to change into pajamas. There was a fireplace on the near right wall, in the living room part of the room, but Draco made no move to light a fire in the hearth. He hardly ever did. There was no need for a fire; for warmth, Draco had been cold for the last seven years.

Once inside his green tiled bathroom, Draco stripped himself down until he was naked, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. At least his house elves still did the laundry. There was a walk-in closet hooked on the left side of his bathroom where he kept all of his clothes in an organized manner. So much so, that it took him a matter of seconds to come back out of the closet and into the bathroom again fully clothed in baggy pajama pants and a t-shirt. He went to the sink and, bent over, he threw water over his face letting it run down his cheeks; over and over again he threw the freezing water over his cheeks until he thought they would go numb.

He needed to waste some time before he went back into the bedroom. He had to go back in when he heard Elena go back in. Normally, when Draco and Elena prepared to go to bed, Draco rushed in and out of the bathroom so that he could fall asleep in bed before Elena would even come out of her own bathroom. Neither of them had actually planned to do it that way; to avoid each other completely, but over the years Draco found himself getting in and out of the bathroom quicker; and each day, Elena took longer to put on her pajamas than the last. And with the pregnancy, it took Elena even longer to get around on her swollen ankles which made it all the better for Draco.

Finally he heard the door to Elena's bathroom swing open; it made a creaking noise so soft that no one but Draco would have ever noticed it. Hesitantly, Draco finally pushed open the door. Elena was easing herself onto the bed and Draco watched her swing her legs up over the side. She didn't realize he was there at first, and she took her time fluffing up her pillow. While she did, Draco looked past the bed and out one of the windows trying to make out something, anything in the darkness. There was an exquisite window treatment designed around their bed. The windows went all the way up to the ceiling, only veiled in some spots by light green silk curtains giving the area a tender feel that contrasted with Draco and Elena's relationship so much that it almost made Draco laugh. Elena whipped her head around at Draco's tiny outburst and she looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment before she calmed down.

Then they studied each other as though they didn't remember what the other looked like. Elena with her brown eyes and long brown hair was nothing special. She wasn't gorgeous, or unique, but she had beauty and even grace when she wasn't carrying a baby. She was small and gentle; when Draco first met her she even had a warm, young look to her, but slowly the warmth faded. These past seven years had sucked out all of her youth, one day at a time, and with her exaggerated tummy she looked older than ever. It wasn't just her body that told her story, but her eyes. Whenever Draco looked into them, like he was doing now, he saw all of the pain and disappointment that he had brought her. But it wasn't Draco's fault that Elena had to marry him. He didn't want to marry her either! He didn't even know her seven years ago and he still didn't know her now. Why was Elena blaming him? She should be blaming Lucius and her precious Gerard!

"We're going to Philadelphia. Tomorrow," Draco said loudly in a cold voice that he used when talking to strangers he didn't know. Their moment of contact had been ruined by his outburst.

"Philadelphia?" Elena asked meekly. "In the United States?"

"Gerard came by. He's building a wizarding school in Philadelphia and he wants me to oversee the construction," Draco informed her, giving her the least amount of information that he had to so that their conversation could be over as soon as possible.

He couldn't stand seeing so much emotion passing over one face, when he himself hardly ever could voice how he felt. He'd never wanted, nor need to before, but that was because before, life was easy. Hogwarts was easy, until his last semester; but that was beside the point.

"It will take six months or so to get the school built. I am supposed to take you with me because I'll be gone the whole time," Draco finished, still standing near the doorway to his bathroom where he had been the whole time.

"What about your mother?" Elena questioned with a courage Draco didn't know she had.

"Narcissa will be fine here by herself. She's hardly ever home anyway," Draco answered confidently.

Then, silence overtook the room and neither spoke. Draco was looking down at the floor, realizing that he didn't have anything else to say to her, but he didn't know how to tell her that they were done. Elena was looking straight down the bed. She didn't know what to do either.

Draco suddenly felt exhausted and standing on his feet wasn't helping the situation. He decided that there was no situation at all. He'd told Elena what he wanted to tell her and now he would go to bed. Draco did just that pulling the sheets back on his side of the bed, only, and falling onto it with a tiny plop. He swished the lights off with his wand and then placed it onto the bedside table.

Draco lay curled up on his side, away from Elena, and pulled the covers up over his right shoulder. He lay completely still for a few moments, hardly even breathing; concentrating only on sound. Elena hadn't moved since he had climbed into bed, and she was still sitting up. He wasn't sure whether he should have said goodnight to her or not, so he opted for not. Finally, after an eternity, she eased back onto her pillow and Draco was able to lift the burden off of his shoulders.

* * *

The next morning Draco woke up to an empty bed, like usual. The light struggled through the curtains, bringing the day forth earlier than he had originally planned. Draco sat up on the side of the bed and ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to get the fair strands out of his sleepy eyes. He rose from the warmth of the sheets and turned around to pull them back up to the pillow. He was a very tranquil sleeper. Once he fell asleep he was totally out, so that making the bed in the morning wasn't a hard chore. Elena's side of the bed looked like it had never been touched; and there was practically a crease in the comforter dividing the bed into halves. The line was like a wall that was never climbed; a wall that no one dared venture over into the other side. And no one ever did.

Draco noticed a large leather trunk at the end of their bed. It was filled to the brim, but only on one side, with large maternity shirts and spandex pants. He sighed aloud, annoyed that she had wasted time slaving over the trunk when he was going to do it all himself. Normally, he wouldn't have cared if she had to do a little work, but the baby lightened him up, even if only a little. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointing toward the direction of his bathroom door. "Accio clothes."

Within seconds, almost his entire wardrobe was zooming toward him. He flicked his wand in the direction of the trunk, and the clothes turned sharply in its direction. They began folding themselves up and packing into the trunk, one shirt atop the next until the entire suitcase was filled. It was when Draco closed and locked the trunk with a handy locking spell that he realized that Elena most likely didn't pack everything in by hand. She'd probably done the same as what he did, she was a witch, after all, why wouldn't she? This made Draco's mood lighten considerably as he went into his bathroom to take a shower.

He got out ten minutes later, clean and refreshed, as he threw a shirt over his head and pulled on a pair of casual jeans. He had remembered in the shower that he was meeting some of Gerard's associates today and he wanted to look good; make a good impression. He walked back through the bedroom and downstairs to the first floor of the Manor charming the trunk to follow him in the air. He let the trunk down in the main foyer near the massive fireplace in the center of the room. The main foyer was mostly void of furniture except for the occasional couch along the wall and also the stone hearth with the two staircases; one on each side of the fireplace, making it the focal point of the room.

There were two sets of double doorways; one on each side of the fireplace. One of the sets was opened wide leading to a dining room inviting him in. On most days, he went straight to his office and had a house elf bring him something to eat, but today he had no reason to be in his office so he would have to tough it out with Elena in the dining room. She was the first thing he saw when he came in, sitting on the far side of the long wooden table all the way on the opposite end. Again, like the night before, she looked shocked to see him, but this time he noticed the trace of a smile on her lips when he looked her in the eye. He looked away quickly, suddenly dreading having to share this meal with her and almost cringing at how pathetically hopeful she had looked.

The only thing keeping him from walking out was the fact that there was an assortment of different trays all around Elena from eggs and sausage to French toast. Draco didn't realize how hungry he was, but now with all the food before him he wanted to stack a pile of pancakes on a plate drenched in syrup and eat until he couldn't eat anymore. Draco went to the chair across from Elena taking a seat and digging.

"How are we getting to Philadelphia? And when?" Elena looked down into her lap after she spoke and adjusted her napkin.

Draco froze with his arm extended over the table, surprised. It took him a few seconds to process what she had asked and then he was relieved that she wasn't expecting him to have small talk with her; that she was actually asking an important question.

"We're supposed to be there at eleven this morning," Draco answered in a voice that sounded foreign to his ears. He looked over at the clock as he continued, "We're going to Floo- bloody hell we're going to be late!"

Draco stood abruptly pushing his seat back roughly. He grabbed a banana from off of a platter of fruit, angry that he wouldn't be able to feast on the syrupy pancakes. Elena got up too, but it took her a little while longer and Draco didn't wait for her. He was charming their trunk to be feather light when she finally came to stand huffing in front of the large fireplace.

"You go first."

He motioned toward the fireplace and then toward the green canister of the Floo powder on the mantle. She nodded and hastened over to it to do Draco's bidding. Once inside she threw the powder to the floor shouting Mayberry Mansion, and then she was gone.

Draco heaved a sigh, wondering what he had gotten himself into going to Philadelphia for six months, maybe even more than that. He picked up the trunk and walked into the fireplace. He threw the powder just the same as Elena had, and with the trunk in his arms, the green flames came up and engulfed him, spinning him away into a disaster waiting to happen.