Chapter 3
The Malfoys were given a small stipend that Narcissa reminded Draco would be enough for any of the servants in the household to live off of, should they not need to consider room and board. Narcissa’s creativity came out as she tried not to spend a penny of it.
They had made due with what Narcissa insisted was a generous allotment of their former wardrobes, after removing anything green, or black, or embroidered with the Malfoy’s family crest or the previous king’s emblems. A very limited selection.
What they couldn’t account for was Draco. Draco’s final growth spurt hit right before Teddy’s first birthday. All of Draco’s sleeves were suddenly too short, his trouser cuffs ending too high on his legs.
Narcissa had kept herself busy trying to revive a magnificent rose garden, and with mending whatever would be helpful to the household. The latter might have served them now, if her skills went beyond simple stitches.
Draco would have settled for less, only… they both knew what sort of event Teddy’s party would be. Narcissa emptied their entire savings to purchase a single suit, properly fitted, with room to grow should anyone know how to let it out once the occasion called for it.
It was just enough for Draco and Narcissa to remain dignified as they stood together on the side, being seen yet unseen, as Aunt Andromeda welcomed all her dear friends. The war heroes who had defeated everyone Draco had loved.
The King showered his godson with gifts and praises. It was the first time Draco had ever seen him smile. The smile faded when King Harry looked up and found Draco watching him. The king sneered.
“Thank you all for being here to celebrate our Teddy,” Aunt Andromeda started her speech. She held her grandchild close as she spoke of lost loved ones and chosen family.
The king, teary eyed, spoke as well. He remembered all his dear friends whose lives were lost too soon. He asked the crowd to raise a toast. “To Remus and Tonks!” Draco started to raise his glass with the others, but the king’s gaze settled on him like a weight. The king’s eyes narrowed and Draco lowered his glass. Draco let everyone who’s aunt and father hadn’t killed Teddy’s parents share in the toast.
Afterwards they ate cake. Draco took some solace in knowing he had baked the cake nearly on his own, following the careful instructions of old Kreacher. No one told Aunt Andromeda that Draco was working in the kitchen, the same way no one had told her he had been tending to Teddy. The servants knew, though, and they let Draco have his moment of watching from afar as Teddy laughed while being spoiled with sugar.
At one, Teddy was soon walking. He grew fast and needed new clothes, and mended clothes, and clothes scrubbed clean from all the ways Teddy soiled them. Draco took to these chores as eagerly as he helped in the kitchen. He asked his mother to teach him sewing, and when her skills reached their limit, Draco asked Angie’s mother Fannie, who managed the entire household. Fannie was loyal to Andromeda and didn’t want to teach Draco, but she knew there was no one else to be spared. She taught Draco the basics of how to make a pattern and how to tend to different fabrics. She taught him different stitches and let him access the manor’s supplies, whereas his mother had to dip into her own funds to purchase thread when she mended.
Draco knew this wasn’t out of the kindness of Fannie’s heart. No, when the time came payment was demanded. One day a valet came home from errands with yards of fresh blue fabric, which Fannie assigned to Draco. His evenings were suddenly filled with sewing, learning how to take fabric and make it something new. In this case, servant uniforms meant for a family as high status as the Tonks had become.
The servants wore them for the first time when Andromeda welcomed the Weasley clan to her home. Draco lined up outside, next to the servants like he was one of them. Only they wore solid blue dresses and suits with clean lines and straight collars, and Draco wore grey linen, open at the throat and somehow once again too short at his ankles.
The father Weasley ignored him. The mother Weasley scowled. The five of their children who’d joined them snickered. The grandchildren didn’t know Draco from Adam, and were too little to judge Draco just as Teddy was.
Draco still sat for dinner at the table after all the little ones were put to bed, although his mother excused herself as ill. This was the first time Draco had seen Narcissa fail to gather her courage. Draco knew, though, that Narcissa had been there when Molly Weasley killed Aunt Bellatrix. It must be something like how King Harry could only look at Draco with scorn, only Narcissa knew she could not afford to be scornful so she hid away instead.
“I can’t believe Andy was forced to let murders live here,” one of the Weasleys said in a loud whisper to his sister after their parents left the room with Andromeda.
Draco had no better judgment to act against, only the judgment that called on him to say, “I’ve never killed anyone,” without even bothering with the pretense of whispering back.
All the children froze in their conversation to stare at Draco.
Draco stared back. One elegant eyebrow lifted as he shrugged at them.
“That’s what makes a person decent, not being a murderer?” Said the same Weasley. He was tall with half of one ear torn off, causing a lopsided appearance when you faced him head on.
Draco’s gaze back at the man was as cold and dead as he felt inside all the time. “Each one of us can choose to be decent, and now I know better than to wait for you to set an example if I’m ever to try my hand at it.”
The other man launched to his feet, eyes blazing with a ferocity Draco envied. His sister and elder brother were both on their feet, nearly as fast, holding the man back before he could challenge Draco to some form of battle by combat. Draco sat impassively while the two siblings dragged their brother from the room.
Draco was left with one red head Weasley and his wife, who’d accompanied him and their children to visit. Both still sat properly, trying to pretend the outburst never happened. Their stubborn obliviousness reminded Draco suddenly of his time in court, when the nobles would ignore cruelties as long as they weren’t aimed at themselves.
It infuriated something deep in Draco, to see these people ignore not only his own shame, but that of their family.