Draco
Harry Potter.
That was the last person Draco could have ever imagined. Although, to be fair he wasn’t sure who else he would have imagined. Luna had left him alone so she could go check on everyone else to see how they were settling. Draco should probably be exploring Grimmauld Place but he hadn’t moved off the settee.
After three years in France he had come home to find the ‘Golden Boy’ missing, just to find out that he had locked himself away in a dank and dusty house. A house that was deteriorating probably just as much as Harry himself was. It was something Draco never thought possible.
Harry Potter. ‘The Boy Who Lived’, ‘The Savior’ of the wizarding world, ‘The Golden Boy’. That’s who Harry was, he wasn’t supposed to be in Grimmauld Place. Draco had expected to come home and find out that Harry was head auror with Weasley right below him and Granger as Minister For Magic. This was not what he was expecting at all. It couldn’t be possible.
Draco stood and paced in front of the fireplace. How had Harry fallen so far off the pedestal he was on? He was supposed to have support. Merlin, he was supposed to be the support.
Draco didn’t know why this information bothered him so much, maybe being away from it all had given him a different way of looking at things. Being away from his father’s oppressive opinions had been good for him, but he didn’t think he would react so strongly to Potter of all people.
He ran a hand through his hair. Three days, he had been in Luna’s presence for three days. Not even three, more like two and a quarter and she had dumped this mess onto him.
Before she left his room, Luna had explained Harry’s new ‘era’ of isolation. She didn’t even explain much other than that Weasley and Granger rarely visited. By the sound of it, Luna was Harry’s only friend that actually cared. She also explained that he never left his room and slept all the time. From a doctor’s view those are clear signs of depression, amongst other things Draco would have to figure out.
Draco knew that wasn’t the whole story. Luna had acted surprised about the ‘sentient wizard house’ information but she seemed more worried than curious, though she hid it well. If Harry was struggling as much as his house Draco wasn’t sure what he could do. He was a mind healer, that’s what he went to school for, but if Harry’s closest friends didn’t even know what was going on with him… how was Draco supposed to help? Did he want to help?
He huffed in frustration and pulled his belongings out of his pockets. He laid the four small boxes on the floor and waved his wand. They had enough time to package their belongings, but not enough to really sift through all of their things to pick and choose what they really wanted.
He rummaged through the first two boxes, each filled to the brim with all the clothes he had. He was rather proud of himself for the fact that his whole wardrobe fit into two boxes. When he was younger not half of his wardrobe would’ve fit. Living away from home all alone had helped him come to terms with what he needed versus what he wanted. Though he did allow himself to splurge a little bit.
The ministry had taken a majority of the Malfoy fortune, most of which was blood money, so he was on his own for three years. Narcissa had sent him some money, but he just put it into savings. He ended up getting a job at a small children’s clinic, it was one of the most interesting experiences of his life, and he had Voldemort living in his house for months.
Just thinking about the memory sent ice down his spine. He shook it off and organized his clothes into his dresser. He didn’t have a wardrobe to hang his shirts or tunics but he didn’t care. He also didn’t have any robes, they always got in the way.
His mind drifted back to Harry as he meticulously organized his things. Never in his entire life could he imagine living in the same house as the man. His plans had been simple, become a mind healer and then… well then he would get a job somewhere and do mind healer stuff. Draco aggressively shut a drawer and paced the room again.
Truth be told he didn’t have a plan at all. St Mungo’s would never hire him and the only reason he left the clinic in France was because the owner was selling his practice and the new doctor was adamant about not hiring ex death eaters. Plus, what would a mind healer be doing in a children’s clinic anyways? But this was not the time to have an existential crisis, he could do that after the current crisis was over.
Speaking of which, he had to figure out if the rumors of him and his mother being back on trial are just rumors or the truth. Draco never liked politics, they were messy and not moral at all. Everyone has dirty laundry when politics are involved no matter if they are on the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ side. He learned that with his father, Barty Crouch and, coincidentally, Dumbledore himself. Everything in Draco’s life had been one big political ploy. And he knows that Harry’s life was, and still is, the same.
Draco looked at the other boxes on the ground, he didn’t really want to unpack everything yet, he hadn’t even looked around his room fully. He walked over to the big windows and looked outside. The sun was just above the horizon, they had gotten to Grimmauld Place in the early afternoon so a few hours must have already passed.
He looked to the ground to see a large garden, it was so overgrown that it looked more like a dense unruly forest more than anything. He sighed and turned away from the window. His room was dark like the rest of the house, but he was used to that. The whole Malfoy manor was dark, devoid of life and love. He decided right then and there that his future home will be one full of life. He had no idea how to do that, but his future would not look like this.
He walked out of his bedroom and closed the door, he spared a glance down the hall to Harry’s room, he could see a shadow pacing back and forth from the crack under the door. Loud shrieking laughter, followed by soft cuss words from Blaise, echoed up the stairs. He tore his eyes away from Harry’s shadow and stepped down the rickety stairs towards the noise.
It wasn’t unusual for Blaise to cuss like that, but Pansy just brought it out of him twice as much. He made his way into the drawing room on Narcissa’s floor. The room was big with two large couches running down the middle across from each other. There were two windows at the back of the room with a fireplace settled between them. Two arm chairs were settled by each window, just to the right of the door there was an elaborate piano that Pansy and Blaise were bickering by.
The most interesting thing about the room was the wall paper. It wasn’t like any of the other rooms, it was a family tree. He scanned the branches pausing briefly when he saw his own name and face. He looked up the branch. He passed his mothers face and name to a scorched part on the wall. It was his aunt Andromeda.
“Every time a member of the Black family went against the fundamentals and traditions, they were removed.” His mother said.
Draco turned around to see her embroidering a cloth while sitting by one of the windows. He felt his lips twitch in amusement, her embroidery was the first thing she packed away when they were getting ready to run.
He looked back to the wall and continued down the branches. He knew the Black family was very traditional, like his father had been, like he had been. The words he had spoken to muggle borns like Granger were not lost on him. He knew what he had said, but he now knew it wasn’t right.
He got to another scorch mark, Sirius Black. Draco knew the name, everyone did. But he also knew that he was Harry’s godfather, this was his house. It couldn’t be good for Harry to live in a house full of ghosts. Sirius probably had something to do with the fourth floor. What could he have done to have his face burned off?
“Mum?” Draco turned around and walked towards his mother by the window. He leaned against the armrest of the couch, “what did Sirius do to get his face burned off the family tree?”
Narcissa set her embroidery down and looked at him. Blaise and Pansy had stopped bickering a while ago, when Draco looked around there were nowhere to be found.
“My cousin was a wonderful man.” Narcissa said slowly, “like I said to Kreacher, he is what the Black family should have been. But he went against their ideals.”
“How so?” Draco asked when she didn’t continue. He knew that Sirius was friends with Harry’s dad, that’s the reason he was his godfather. He was also in the Order of the Phoenix.
“He did not partake in the family’s belief in blood purity. He was sorted into Gryffindor and he was against the Dark Lord in the first war.” Narcissa gazed out the window, “All of those things broke Walburga’s heart, or they would have if she had one, but the main thing was that he ran away.”
“He ran away?” Draco asked, ignoring his mother’s dig at Walburga. “Where did he go?”
”When Sirius was sixteen he ran away and lived with his best friend, James, Harry’s father.” Narcissa looked at Draco, “that’s also the reason why Uncle Alphard is no longer on the wall either. He left Sirius a large inheritance and he was exiled from the family for doing so.”
Draco pondered this information for a minute or two, actually so long that Narcissa went back to her embroidery. He had a hunch that every person who was burned off the family tree was actually a decent and moral human being.
He looked at the wall in a new light. Seven scorch marks, seven people brave enough to go against the family knowing that they were leaving everything they had behind. It was kind of like how Draco went to France, leaving everything and everyone he knew behind.
He left his mom in the drawing room and roamed the rest of the house deep in thought. He still had no idea where Blaise and Pansy ended up but he didn’t care. He just had to wonder, out of every house and place Harry could have chosen to run away to, why did he choose one with such a dark history? Harry was the new master to the house, but he didn’t have to come here. So why did he?
Draco would get to the bottom of it. He never liked not figuring things out, they itched at the back of his brain until he lost his mind. He made his way all the way to the ground floor. This house really did have too many stairs. That was one of Draco’s least favorite things about Hogwarts, the stairs. It really was a first world problem but he would complain about it until he died.
He walked down the narrow hall to where Luna said he could get to the basement. He hadn’t eaten all day and he was starving, he wondered if Harry was hungry too.
As he made his way down the small staircase he heard hushed frantic voices. He stuck close to the cold stone wall and followed the noise. When he got to the kitchen opening he saw Luna arguing with Kreacher. It was a peculiar sight, to see the usually docile girl looking like she was about to punch the elf in the nose. Draco stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat.
“What’s going on?” He asked, he looked at a silver tray that was on the long table by Kreacher and Luna. A bowl of steaming food and a few potion and medicine bottles sat on it. Kreacher picked it up, grumbled at Luna and disappeared with a crack.
Luna stared at the spot where Kreacher had just disappeared from. Draco looked around the kitchen, there were dozens of shelves and large pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. A huge fireplace was at the back of the room with a large pot of what smelled like stew over a fire. It made Draco’s stomach growl. He looked back to Luna hoping she would give him some explanation of what he had just walked into.
“What happened?” He asked.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” She waved at him.
Draco was about to say something but her appearance made him stop. She looked exhausted. Luna dropped into a chair that was next to the table and put her head in her hands. Draco went over to the stew and ladled out two bowls for them. He placed one in front of Luna and sat across from her. She gave him a slight smile.
They ate in silence for what seemed like years before Luna said anything.
“I have to leave tonight,” She sighed, “School starts in two days and I have to get everything ready.”
“Okay,” Draco said slowly, “thanks for bringing us here.” What he truly wanted to ask was what she and Kreacher were going on about before he interrupted them. She must have seen the question in his eyes.
“It’s Harry,” She said softly, “he’s not doing good Draco. And I have done everything I can. Don’t get mad but that’s one of the only reasons I felt comfortable bringing you here, I hoped that you could help him.” She paused to gauge Draco’s reaction, when he didn’t say anything she continued.
“He has isolated himself so much that he is deteriorating, you see the state of the house! He never talks to anyone and I fear that he is going to get worse and worse. But he won’t get any help because it would be plastered all over the papers and he is pushing everyone out of his life. Ron and Hermione used to visit all the time! But it’s hard now because they have their busy schedules and he doesn’t make much of an effort to visit with them outside of this blasted place!” Luna was full on shouting now, “I have done everything I can Draco! Everything and it hasn’t been enough!
“He sleeps all the time, he’s barely eating and he’s not taking his medicine or potions as often as he should.” She placed her head in her hands and groaned, “I know this isn’t fair to dump this all on you Draco, especially because of your situation, but I’m out of options, and time.”
Draco took a minute to sort out his thoughts once he knew Luna was done. She obviously needed to talk with someone. He was already trying to figure out what to do with Harry, so Luna didn’t have to worry about that. Draco had to worry about that.
“I’m sorry,” Luna said under her breath, “I’m not acting like myself right now, I didn’t mean to shout.”
“It’s okay Luna, this is a rather precarious situation.” He reached across the table and grabbed one of her hands, “what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help? I’ll do what I can to help Harry and I’ll keep you updated while you’re gone.”
Luna looked up and smiled at him, “Thanks… You know Draco, everyone was wrong about you, and I am glad that they were.”