Touch Starved

Draco sat numbly in the chair. He knew he was in the Manor. Knew his parents were in the same room. His mother in the chair next to him and his father standing by the window. Their emotionless voices going in and out of focus.

“I don’t think you fully grasp how it will look if-”

“ – disgrace. He needs to just – “

“For once in your life think about something other than –“

A glass slammed down on something and he traveled back to his body. It hadn’t been a glass but a teacup and a saucer on the side table. He looked up at his mother and her rare outburst in shock before quickly schooling his features back to the neutral expression he had been raised to emulate from both his parents.

Narcissa Black Malfoy had her name listed in the definitions of calm, cool and collected. She never had to raise her voice or make a scene to get what she wanted, from who she wanted, when she wanted it. Her eyes slid to him briefly and softened before they returned to his father and grew sharp again.

“Let me make something very clear, Lucius.” His mother stood, smoothing her skirts both gracefully and efficiently. “Your rule in this Manor has come to an end.”

He heard his father make a noise at the back of his throat as if he was going to argue.

“No, no. I’m not finished.” She breathed icily and pinned his father with a look he had never seen before.

The hairs on his arms and legs were now standing on end from the raw electricity his mother was radiating.

“You have played the game and lost. Twice.”

Draco kept perfectly still like he had been trained to do, his body language stoic and unreadable, but internally he winced at the harsh words.

“You will remain the head of this household in name and legality, but from here on out, I make the choices for this family. If that is not agreeable to you, then I suggest you make your current stay in the guest wing a permanent one.”

His father seethed, eyes flickering with a darkness Draco had seen on few occasions, and then he tipped his head to her once and marched out of the room. His mother pushed her hair back and turned elegantly making her way to also exit the room. He leaned forward on his knees, body still rigid and tight. Closing his eyes, he exhaled trying to push out all the tension in an attempt to thaw himself out from the glacial Manor he had constructed in his mind to keep himself cold and aloof. To keep himself safe.

“Draco,” his mother called from the doorway. The softness had returned to her voice, but her eyes were still authoritative and unyielding. He straightened. “You will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow. You will complete the year with zero complications. And you will retake your place in society how I raised you to.”

He felt the chill of the Manor’s ice tendrils wrapping back around him.

“Yes, Mother.”

~~

He popped through the apparition point and stood there for a few seconds. He could always run. No. He shook his head. He couldn’t do that to his mother.

She had come to his room last night after giving him some space. She knocked and upon receiving no answer, poked her head in.

He was sitting in a chair by the fireplace just staring at the flames. Wondering how close he could get before he felt any heat, any warmth, any feeling. He had stayed in the ice Manor for too long today.

She reached for his hand and pressed it against her cheek. She was giving him warmth, pulling him back. The edges of his vision thawed, and he felt his mind float back into his body.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

She knew how he had chosen to separate himself. She had been the one to teach him how in preparation for his father returning from prison and the Dark Lord entering their life, though her personal method was a bit different and less difficult to come back from, it saved his life on many occasions over the last few years. He just didn’t know how to turn it off now.

He looked at her and finally saw her features before sucking in a large overdue breath. His lungs aching and protesting from only receiving the bare minimum amount of air to survive and not an ounce more.

“It’s okay.” He rasped, voice thick and scratchy from not being used in hours.

His mother looked away, into the flames that he had been lost in for Merlin knows how long but remained holding his hand in hers.

“I love your father very much.” She said after some time. “But I have reached the limit within my willingness to let him ruin our lives, your life, because of his pride.”

Draco twitched as warmth from the fire finally burst through his synapses. And then the guilt followed, and the dread, and the memories. His body shook. Bloody hell he was tired.

“How long were you gone today?” She questioned, both of their eyes still on the flames. He knew the meaning behind her words. 

He shrugged. “Too long.”

She leaned down, kissed the top of his head, and released his hand. “Get some sleep, Draco. You start a new life tomorrow.”

~~

Two whips cracking next to him pulled him out of his memory.

“Bloody stupid.” Pansy huffed.

“Better than the alternative, Pansypoo.” Blaise drawled.

Another popping sound rang out and there was an arm slung over his shoulder pulling him in towards Blaise. Draco flinched at the abrupt and unexpected contact.

“Hi, friends!” Theo sang. “Are we ready for a magical day?!”

Pansy just glared while Blaise chuckled and threw his arm around her to connect them all in an awkward group hug. Draco shrugged out of Theo’s hold and started moving toward the less public access of Platform 9 ¾ which was on the other side of the building from where they were located currently.

“What’s up his ass?” Theo pouted. Draco heard him hiss and knew that one of his friends had smacked him. He felt the corner of his mouth pull up for the first time in a long time.

His smile was short lived as turned a corner and spotted three people lounging against the wall to the right of him. They fell into step with his group of four. He felt the chill tickle the back of his mind, urging him to come to safety.

“Pansy.” A jarring voice greeted.

“Daphne.” Pansy returned.

They hated each other.

“Hello, boys.”

“Flint.” Blaise and Theo said blandly in unison, their earlier playfulness gone. Draco nodded in his direction.

“Malfoy.”

“Goyle.” The deep sound came from him but it wasn’t his voice. He saw Pansy tense but then the frost was clouding the edges and he at a was distance.

“Come, Blaise. I wish to make an entrance.” His friend said dramatically.

Somewhere in his mind he knew it was to distract everyone away from him but he was slipping deeper, so he just followed the figures as they filed in front of him.  

Faces, so many faces, and yet he couldn’t see a single one. They were floating on the platform, people clearing out of their way, hushed whispers and inaudible conversations happening around him, about him, but he is in the Manor and the ice is too thick.

He passed by something warm but it faded as his feet kept moving him forward. He climbed up a step and the warmth caressed him. He turned his head in its direction, but he couldn’t see anything. Just bodies with no faces and the outline of a train.

He sat down next to the bodies he had followed.

A finger touched his hand under the table.

The Manor quivered and the door opened allowing him to walk out. Down the stone path to the gate and then over the hill. He apparated.

Draco blinked and found himself seated next to Pansy. Blaise and Theo across from him and Daphne, Marcus, and Gregory sitting at the table across the car to his right.

He clenched the fist Pansy’s pinky was resting on. Fuck this was going to be a long train ride.