Draco's Changing Path
They went up to the upper floors of the house, which they had never entered before. It was as if they were in a place at the top of a tower. While the house looked neglected, this place was brand new. It was as if time had stopped here and prevented it from aging. His aunt, pulling on her silk purple nightgown with one hand, was silently sobbing. The poor old woman's eyes had begun to sink and her curly hair was sticking out from all sides.
They passed through a small round door ahead. This place was completely stuck in ancient history. The room was lit by various floating candles. There were various carvings, stories of glorious warriors, and mighty gods. Stars starting from the floor were becoming a galaxy as they went towards the ceiling. Draco couldn't help but admire this room.
In the very center of the room was a raised navy blue coffin. Draco shuddered involuntarily when he saw it. He walked around the platform. In the back, there were covered or completely empty pictures, portraits. Although the room looked very glorious, it seemed abandoned and smelled of death. His aunt went up the steps of the platform. Draco immediately caught up with her. His aunt reached for the coffin, but put her hand on it without opening it.
"Draco, I know these events will frighten you, but there are many things you need to know as a Black," his aunt said, without taking her eyes off the coffin she had put her hand on.
"Aunt, I know more about the Blacks than you think," Draco said in a determined voice. His aunt looked at him and smiled with her watery red eyes and chewed, swollen lip.
"That's my Draconis." His aunt put her other hand on his cheek. She gently stroked him.
"The Blacks are more like a clan, a tribe than a family. Some history books even refer to us as a race. The Blacks have been around for a long time. Some say they even participated in wars in the time of Merlin or Salazar. Although we don't have definite information about this, the Blacks migrated from France to England. Since this is not such a long-term thing, most Black properties are still in France. The one we are standing on right now is one of them. Black properties have a feature, Draco, they are protected and shaped by ancient spells." His aunt seemed hesitant to continue speaking.
"My grandfather always talked about the Blacks being born with a sacred duty and responsibility. I didn't understand this before, but now I do. No matter how genocidal the Blacks seem, they were created to be worshiped. Although most Blacks seem weak in battle, their magical powers skyrocket. Blacks are born star watchers, in other words, god observers. Ancient muggles called the stars and planets gods, that's how my grandfather put it, but I would tell you that we are something like seers." Despite all the serious events, his aunt couldn't help but add a grin to her last words.
Despite all his tension, Draco smiled at her. His aunt composed herself. She put her hand on the coffin again.
"It was about eleven years ago. As a star watcher, I would hear dead people in my dreams. All of them were Blacks. They would scream at me that I was a disgrace to the Blacks, that I should return home and apologize to the stars, that I should use my magic for sacred purposes. Later, I realized that these were conscious people rather than dead people." She pointed to the empty portraits with her hand.
"I was tired of hearing the voices of my umpteenth great old relatives screaming in my head. So I stole the portraits. Even though I destroyed them, nothing had changed, so I brought them to this room where time had stopped. It worked, but there was one cloudy figure left in my mind at night. A young man." She rubbed her hand on the coffin.
"I secretly infiltrated all the mansions, even the other purebloods. I couldn't find him anywhere, so I finally came to Walburga's. Her youngest son had died and the process of drawing his portrait had not even started yet. Before returning to France, a very unusual blonde girl stopped me. She told me what had happened to Regulus Black. He had fallen into an eternal sleep and no matter what the girl did, he had started to smell like a corpse. So I took Regulus from the girl and put him in this room. I don't dream anymore, but apparently he preferred to haunt someone else." She raised her eyebrow and looked at Draco. While Draco was trying to process everything she said, he didn't even answer her.
"In short, Regulus's soul is alive, his body is dying. I prevented this, but I don't know how to wake him up." His aunt leaned over the coffin with sadness. She gently placed a kiss on it.
That's why Draco couldn't sleep for days and was reading books like a maniac in the library. He was looking for something about this curse.
His uncle couldn't find any other evidence about the vampire case, the case was at a standstill.
His aunt was no longer a crazy thief woman in his eyes, but a crazy thief woman who valued her family and tried hard.
His aunt had taught him how to make cookies. Draco found a strange peace in this activity. Soon his mother had joined this baking activity. They would often argue about whether his mother's cake should be baked first or his aunt's pastry. Draco found this situation very entertaining. While his aunt's food was legendary, his mother's was... edible.
Draco was playing chess with his uncle and occasionally tidying up the library with the house elf Tobby. The house elf had a good taste for books.
He was solving cases with his uncle and going to the same fancy, cute cafe with Fleur whenever he had free time.
He once dared to look at Regulus's corpse. After that, he vomited in the magnificent room, and he was sure he heard the condemning voices of a few covered paintings.
Draco had also learned a lot about the Blacks. The magic of the Blacks, unlike other wizards, came from the stars, not from nature. They called this ancient power. Since it was difficult and violent to master, most Blacks had connected their magic to nature like other wizards. Draco guessed that his magic was connected to ancient magic when he went back in time. Since the Blacks could read the stars and talk about the future and the past, they resembled seers, but at the same time, they were very different.
Draco was learning the runes of ancient magic with the help of his mother and aunt. He had learned a few time spells. He could even see 5 seconds into the future, but as a result, he would return to his old absentmindedness. It was as if time was bypassing him while he was looking into that void. The first time he saw the 5 seconds was very funny. He had seen that he would faint and he had fainted. His aunt had teased him about this for weeks.
He really felt happy and relaxed. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. But it didn't last that long. Half of the summer had already passed and he had to return to Malfoy Manor.
It was as bright as when the Dark Lord had not taken over the house, but Draco couldn't shake the unease on him. The house needed a big change. He wasn't ready to see his father again either.
He had convinced his father that he was angry with him until he went to Hogwarts and had very little contact with the man, but now his father would be very insistent. He couldn't stand his only son, who was a carbon copy of himself, being angry with him. Draco rolled his eyes at this thought.
No matter how much his father said that the Malfoys were in control of their emotions, he was the most emotional of them all. While his mother had a stone face even in the face of torture, his father would sob. Well, Draco had gotten used to it and coped with it over time.
His mother came downstairs with Tobby and his suitcases. Draco knew that his other suitcases were already at the manor, these next to him were gifts from his Uncle and Aunt Martinez.
Draco had shown them Regulus's watch. His mother and aunt had hugged and cried together. Draco, not used to seeing his mother so weak and his aunt so soft, had left them alone.
His aunt had showered him with gifts after the watch incident. She had bought and given him various watches until his mother stopped her. It was too much for Draco to use. Draco had laughed at this situation because it reminded him of himself. In the past, when he learned that Pansy liked fancy shaped feathers, he had showered her with feathery pens of various colors, features and shapes.
They went to Malfoy Manor with a tight hug from his uncle, lots of wet kisses from his aunt, and a glittery farewell card from Fleur. Draco's cheerful mood tensed when he saw his father's face. He still couldn't make eye contact with his father. He was no longer the pale-haired, ugly-faced man he used to be. When he wasn't associated with evil, Draco thought he could be handsome.
"Narcissa, Draco," his father said, tightening the hand holding his cane. His mother took quick steps, slamming her sturdy heels forward.
"Lucius, my dear, we're coming from a long distance, I was expecting you to wait for us at dinner," his mother said with an innocent smile.
"Cissy, my love, you came with floo powder, there was nothing to tire you out, and I was wondering what you did on your summer vacation," said Lucius Malfoy.
Draco was seeing his father being so gentle to his mother for the first time. Could distance and manners have helped the man change?
"Unfortunately, unlike you, we are very tired, my love. Why don't you tell us what you did in Russia at dinner as you planned? It doesn't seem like it would be a problem if you waited a little," his mother said as she walked up the long stairs without looking back.
Draco saw a few seconds of desolation on his father's face.
"You know I didn't mean that, Narcissa, my love!" his father said. As his mother walked towards another room.
"Don't shout at home, Lucius, it's rude," his mother said without looking.
"Where are you going? Cissy, my love?"
"To the guest room, it seems ideal for resting. Don't try to follow me, Lucius," his mother winked at him without looking at his father.
This was proof that Narcissa Malfoy would do anything for her son. Just because her son was angry with his father and very serious about this attitude, she was ready to stand up to her husband. Draco knew this had always been the case. Whether the Dark Lord was there or not. No matter what anyone said, this manor might belong to Lucius, but Narcissa was Lucius's master.
His father looked desolate. He better get used to his beloved woman treating him like this. After all, his mother had admitted that she loved the stars more.
"Draco—"
Draco made a reference and gave a respectful greeting, just as his father had always told him to do.
"With your permission, father, I'll be in my room. Please don't knock on my door." Draco couldn't help but grin at his father's surprised expression as he walked away. He had carefully chosen his words to be similar to his mother's.
Draco remembers that the Chamber of Secrets was opened this year. As far as he knew, it was Tom's diary. His father would constantly argue with his aunt Bellatrix about this. Draco knew enough details. He also had a rough idea of where the room was. Visiting his old friend from 6th grade would be enough. Maybe this year he could solve the problem before anyone was petrified and the book fireball went to a Weaslette. His first job was no longer to stay away from Harry Potter and the golden trio. He wanted to make a change.
He was tired of floundering in his own mind. Regulus would tell him over and over again to be a child as he wished. Be a child for once, give up the strict rules and have fun despite everything. Draco began to embrace this idea. He didn't even see himself as an adult anymore. He was just a smart kid. He needed to be a kid. And Draco was good at doing things he wasn't, this time he would accept it.
His father and mother's harsh glances at each other and the sarcastic remarks made through Draco were very funny, and his mother had now extended the matter to sleeping in the guest room. His father was acting like a pureblood teenager back in his Hogwarts days. Draco couldn't help but laugh at him with his small body and advanced brain. Even though he loved his father, he couldn't help but resent him.
Draco soon returned to his usual mandatory summer studies. He was learning Chinese, studying third-year spells (reading books secretly because he already knew them), attending etiquette and table manners. Pureblood behaviors, ball traditions, magic heritage, pureblood families, magic history, piano, jazz, Russian revision and speaking, ministry affairs, politics and many more. Draco was still more comfortable than before, his father had stopped accompanying him in lessons because of his and his mother's attitude. Draco felt like he was breathing for the first time in the manor. He would never say no to studying, but the tight grips on his shoulders seemed to have slipped.
Summer vacation ended quickly with its busy schedule. His father had wanted to take him shopping for peace. Draco knew better than that. So, despite all his reluctance, he accepted. He had to protect the Weaslette. He didn't want another child to go through trauma at such a young age. Don't get him wrong.