Celestial Being

This time when Draco heard knocking on his door there wasn’t a hint of sunlight. Miserably he crawled to his feet and stumbled to the door, and was distraught at the sight of Ron’s smiling face.

“No! I’m unavailable. I’m here to work. I’m the babysitter.” Draco was willing to stoop to great lows to get back into bed and sleep.

Ron tsked at him. “Mate, I am absolutely not to treat you like a babysitter. King’s orders.” Ron’s smile should have been illegal this early in the morning. “Get dressed and let’s get to it.”

Perhaps if Draco’s brain had been working a little bit better he would have slammed the door in Ron’s face and gone back to sleep anyway. As it was, with frazzled nerves and a sleep-addled mind, he managed to swap out his sleep clothes for something approaching respectability so he could follow Ron to morning drills.

It was worse, here at the castle. Back at Grimmauld Place everyone knew Draco by the time Ron had dragged him out to train. He got funny looks, but not funny treatment. Here at the castle, there were too many unknown faces waiting for him in the training courtyard. Draco stood out in his noble clothes with his platinum Malfoy hair. It was hard to directly be mean to the fellow Ron brought in, but clever folk would figure it out given enough time. Thankfully, Ron assigned Draco to Dean Thomas, who was well versed in kicking Draco’s ass, but being nice about it.

With the sun came a currier, with an urgent message for Ron. He read it and called a halt to the training. It couldn't have come too soon, since rain was starting and all the soldiers were respectably worn. Comparatively, Draco was drenched with sweat and ready to slump over. Draco ignored the snickers directed his way and focused on Dean’s sincere, “Good work today.”

Draco tried to catch Ron to ask what the plan was for the day, but Draco was caught in the crowd and couldn’t reach Ron before he was out of sight.

It was uncomfortable to be left to his own devices. Everyone else was retreating to the barracks for a shower, but Draco had to slump off elsewhere to ready himself for the day. He avoided anything remotely communal and eventually gave up and just returned to Andromeda’s to quickly bath there. It all worked out alright in the end, since by the time he dressed and stepped out to the main room Andromeda and Narcissa were sitting down to breakfast.

Being back at the castle had breathed life back into Draco’s mother. Her dress may be simpler than what she wore in the past, but it was fine silk expertly assembled. Draco’s mother had embroidered it herself, to stretch the budget Andromeda provided out far enough so Narcissa could have a different dress for each day of their stay. The budget had been meant for the two of them, but Andromeda didn’t fight with Draco when he passed and gave it all to his mother. Perhaps Andromeda knew, too, how much it would mean to Narcissa to be able to maintain her pride for this visit. Looking at her now, at the same breakfast table they ate at so frequently throughout Draco’s childhood, it might be as if nothing had changed beyond age making her frame thin and her hair gray.

Draco listened to the two sisters chat over their meal with an ease they’d never managed in their childhood home. There was a lightness to it, an ability to let the war lie and simply be two sisters meeting on an equal playing field. Somehow, the castle didn’t carry the weight of all the things the two women had lost during the war.

Andromeda hadn’t yet received word from the king of the day’s activities, so instead they made morning plans to visit the gallery and walk through the garden if the rain let up.

“Will you join us, Draco?” his mother asked.

Draco considered but shook his head. “I’m quite tired, I think I’ll have a lie down.”

Andromeda tutted. “When you’ve just woken up?”

Draco switched tacts and made the case that he should be around in case Teddy needed anything. Only, Andromeda insisted on reminding him he wasn’t to be treated as a babysitter. King’s orders.

All these orders felt like premeditated revenge on the king’s part.

The rain didn’t let up, but umbrella’s appeared and Draco was forced to do a brief turn about the yard. No one was wearing practical enough shoes for it, but Andromeda was made of strong stuff and charged onwards, knowing her family would follow. The rain didn’t stop his mother from lingering to point out all the plants she remembered fondly. Draco might have sighed a lot, but he would stand in whatever puddle was required of him to see his mother happy. He lifted his eyes up to consider the castle, dull and gray under duller and grayer clouds. He’d have to find a way to get his mother invited back in the summer, when the flowers were at bloom. His stomach swooped at the idea of that conversation with King Harry. He’d find a way, though. If his mother could laugh this lightheartedly in the rain, bringing her here in sunshine would be worth nearly anything.

Once inside, Draco toed off his muddy shoes and peeled off his wet socks.

“Draco! You can’t walk around barefoot, it’s undignified,” his mother chided.

Draco tucked the socks inside the shoes while answering, “What’s undignified is getting blisters that hurt so bad I can’t move fast enough to stop Dean Thomas from knocking me on my ass.”

“Don’t swear at your mother,” the chiding was from Andromeda this time. Honestly, it was easier when they weren’t getting along.

No. No, it wasn’t. Seeing the two sisters side by side sharing stern, if amused, expressions made it easy for Draco to wave an apology to them both and promise to be better. Draco did walk barefoot, though, unrepentant.

There was still no word from the king when they returned to their rooms. Draco would have thought nothing of it, but he could see frown lines framing Andromeda’s eyes and her occasional glance towards the door. Draco began to pick up more and more of the conversation to cover for Andromeda’s wandering thoughts.

Word didn’t come until servants were gathering the last of their lunch dishes away, and it came in the form of Hermione instead of the king. Her dress was sturdy instead of fashionable, and her boots were designed to keep her feet dry no matter how much she tromped about in mud. Her hair was pulled back in a bushy bun that mostly kept the curls out of her tense and serious face. Clearly, it wasn’t a social call.

It was only because Draco was looking for it that he saw Hermione subtly examine the room, taking in the servants’ presence as well as Draco’s mother. He saw her decide to put on an almost natural looking smile and announce, “Percy and his family will be here soon.”

“Percy?” Draco asked, bewildered. “And his family?”

It must have been some code since Andromeda adopted her steely expression even while not missing a beat, “How delightful. Didn’t you say you were hoping they would be here for your visit, Draco?”

“Um, yes,” Draco tried to be as smooth in responding as they were but it wasn’t working quite right. He could feel the servants’ funny looks and wondered at the king’s past fear of gossip.

His mother saved him, perhaps not even aware she was doing it. “It will be so lovely to see Percy and Audrey. We come to town so rarely, and I know it’s hard for them to get away to the country.”

“Yes,” Draco said again. “I suppose so.” He looked at Hermione. “When did you say they were coming?”

“Any minute now. I was just coming to bring you along to receive them. Typically Harry would do it, but he’s in his meeting so I’ll be standing in,” Hermione explained it like it should make sense but several things weren’t adding up.

Andromeda frowned and murmured, “What meeting was that?” At the same time Draco frowned and said, “But it’s Thursday.”

Hermione decided to respond to Andromeda. “The small council was summoned this morning. I hardly know what about.” She said it lightly but Draco saw the two women exchange sharp glances. He also saw the servants watching. A reminder someone was always watching.

Draco licked his lips and spoke up again, trying to refocus the conversation while also doing his best to make the information Hermione came to relay seem as unimportant as possible. “It’s so unlike them to travel on a weekday. I wouldn’t want to interrupt their schedule, maybe we can cancel and my mother and I can go visit them for dinner.”

That pulled Hermione’s attention back to Draco, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I thought you told Harry that he should invite your friends to visit for the trip. Percy and Audrey were planning to stay for the entire week.”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, both at remembering that yes, he had said that actually, and also in shock that the king had remotely listened. Draco had been lashing out, not actually suggesting the king invite Percy’s whole family to the castle. “Wouldn’t they be more comfortable with a shorter trip? Maybe just on Saturday.”

Andromeda was frowning at him now. “I’m quite surprised with you, Draco. I thought you liked Percy, and the king went to all the trouble of inviting him here.” There was an unexpected hard edge to her tone. She stared hard at Draco until he realized there might be reasons for Percy to be here that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the secret project to reclaim all of the kingdom’s money. Draco was just a helpful excuse.

It left him relieved, in a way, to know the king hadn’t gone above and beyond again just for Draco. It also brought its own stress, since Draco realized he likely couldn’t talk them out of it. Percy had agreed to uproot his entire family for a week in service to this project and Draco could only imagine the strain it would place on them.

“You know I love Percy, I’m just worried about the girls. It’s such a big break from routine,” Draco tried to explain.

“But imagine, they’ll have an entire week at the castle!” his mother said, beaming. Clearly she loved it here, and while there were a million amazing things to do and see it was hard to explain to his mother how much Molly and Lucy would prefer sitting in their living room reading books on northern European mammals.

Draco tried to muster a smile while internally he worried.

“Anyway, Bill and Fleur will be here on Saturday with their kids, and we’ll be able to have all the grandkids together when Molly comes to stay…” Hermione was explaining.

Draco couldn’t hide his squeak. “I thought this was supposed to be a quiet visit!”

Andromeda chuckled at his dismay. “Consider it a right of passage. You’re not a part of the family until you’ve been overrun by Weasleys. I should know.”

“That’s true, it can be a lot to take in,” Hermione agreed, having her own understanding as someone who married into the Weasley clan. “We tried to keep it small, of course, but once George was invited Molly wouldn’t be left behind, and it just spiraled from there.”

Just when Draco was beginning to comprehend what was happening he was thrown for another loop. “When was George invited?” he asked.

Hermione shrugged as if it was the least important detail. “I don’t know, a few weeks ago. You told Harry to invite your friends.”

Seeing as how the king made it clear he hadn’t wanted to invite George, Draco simply couldn’t explain this one away. He could feel a twitch in his eyebrow but worried if he tried to rub it out it would only draw more attention to the mild panic he felt at the idea that the king had gone further than inviting his mother. It didn’t make any sense.

Except, Draco had made those demands before the king admitted his attraction to Draco, and before he’d propositioned Draco the previous evening. It made a lot more sense if Draco considered in the context that the king might be trying to endear himself to Draco. A mad idea Draco didn’t want to contemplate.

Then something even stranger happened. His mother gently reached out to touch Andromeda’s shoulder and was bold enough to make her own request, “If we’re gathering family, would it be alright if I invited cousin Xeno?” While the question was for Andromeda, obviously any such request could only be approved with the king’s blessing. Yet Andromeda didn’t hesitate at all before encouraging Narcissa to write the invitation. It wasn’t until just then that Draco realized he just might actually truly have been welcomed into a family.

The servants had left by then, with plenty of gossip about soon to visit guests that would far outshadow any conversation of small council meetings. It was almost nothing at all when Andromeda excused herself to, “Just go check on Harry,” even if she was leaving with her set shoulders and stern gaze that told Draco she would find her way into that meeting come hell or high water.

Hermione and Draco found themselves at the front of the castle in a much smaller receiving line than what had greeted Draco’s own party on arrival. Percy greeted Draco with a handshake and Hermione with the most awkwardly polite kiss to the cheek, then spent the next five minutes fretting as the servants unloaded all the luggage and took it away to parts unknown. Audrey was calmer, just. First she hugged Hermione, then she hugged Draco just a bit tighter. She spared him a genuine smile that briefly relaxed her tired features. Molly and Lucy followed their parents out of the carriage and lowered into the most perfect courtesies Draco had ever seen while reciting, “Hello Aunt Hermione.”

Hermione greeted both girls warmly and would probably have launched into a game of twenty questions or some well meaning attempt to learn about their lives but Draco carefully stepped in and offered to show everyone to their suite.

Along the way Draco led the small talk, asking what lessons the girls had been on that week and letting Audrey explain math Draco didn’t understand, followed by this week’s list of spelling and vocabulary words that Draco supposed he could probably get right if forced, and the review of formal royal etiquette in preparation for this trip, which Draco realized he did know entirely. The girls were quiet as they walked, but they giggled while Draco quizzed Hermione on their lessons, and after acing the math and the vocabulary she gave up in a huff over the proper spoon to use for chilled soup.

Audrey hugged Draco again after he left them in their rooms with a promise to return once they were settled. Percy wrapped both his hands around Draco when he shook his hand goodbye.

Outside the room, Hermione stared at Draco most peculiarly. “I thought you were being rude,” she said bluntly, “but that went better than I expected.”

Draco wasn’t certain if he should glare or not. He settled for deflection. “I don’t know what you’re going on about.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. “I’ve just never seen them settle into the burrow so smoothly. Usually Percy gets into a fight with someone before they make it to their rooms.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Percy is the sweetest person.” Draco couldn’t help but get defensive.

“If you say so,” Hermione allowed, clearly not seeing what Draco did. “But he is a bit odd.”

Draco felt childish stamping his foot but did it anyway. “He most certainly is not.”

Hermione shook her head with a bemused smile. “I’m not being as clear as I meant to. I’m trying to say I thought you were rude, but I think you were rather being kind. It’s nice.”

What was there to say to that? Draco was tired through and through just considering. He tensed when he realized what he wanted to say, but despite the risk he said it anyway. “I’m not being kind to him. Percy isn’t someone you need to condescend to.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry I’m not saying what I mean,” Hermione tried to back track.

Draco closed his eyes and considered biting his tongue and accepting the apology. It was likely the wise choice. One day he might learn to be wise. Today he said, “I think you said exactly what you meant to, Hermione. You think Percy is odd, and his family is odd, and I bet around other folks you’d be so honest as to say their family might even be a bit difficult.”

Hermione sputtered. “No, that’s not it at all,” but she was blushing as she said it so Draco figured he’d gotten it right.

“Percy said he’d asked his family for help with…” Draco glanced around at the empty hall but still didn’t want to speak aloud about the kingdom’s finances… “he asked his family for help. He said his family told him no. Was that you?” Draco wanted to know only slightly more than he didn’t.

Hermione was still blushing. “He sent letters to several of us, but they were vague, and you must understand that he has an unsavory history with these matters.”

The thing is, Draco did understand. He knew exactly what it was like to see someone who behaved a little different and judge them for it. He knew what it was like to lord a mistake someone made over them for as long as possible. He knew the choices he made that hurt other people when his family had been in power. Deliberate, awful choices. He also knew the choices everyone made about him after he’d fallen from grace.

He also knew what an impossible thing trust was. It was something he had once taken for granted, but now he could hardly say if there was a single person he trusted completely. The closest out of anyone might be Percy, because in the end Percy didn’t care about the games or social status.He saw no need to look down on Draco or anyone else. He just wanted to do his work well and do right by those he loved. It was the least odd sentiment Draco could imagine.

Draco smiled not unkindly at Hermione. “You might consider, in this case, you’re the difficult one,” he stated. “And let Percy and his family be.”