Sister
Chapter 12: Sister
It took quite a lot of convincing, but Sirius eventually agreed to visit Malfoy Manor for the holidays. His only stipulation was that “Lucy” would never find out that he was there. In exchange for going, he had given Draco an envelope to send off for him. After about twenty minutes of walking back to the castle, curiosity won out and the boys opened the letter to discover only a mail-in order form for a new Firebolt from Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley.
The boys spent the remainder of the walk wondering whether Sirius intended to keep it as a means of escape in case he was ever found out, or if he intended it to be a Christmas gift for his youngest cousin who just happened to be a Seeker. Naturally, they all hoped for the latter, as there would be no way Potter would ever beat the Slytherin team again.
After dropping the order off with his owl, Aquila, Draco and the other boys spent the remainder of the evening packing their trunks for the holidays, daydreaming about all the brilliant sweets and gifts waiting for them back at the Manor. The plan was for the gang to go back to London on the train, where Narcissa would bring them back to Malfoy Manor, Blaise included. In the meantime, Mippy would be bringing Sirius to the Manor by Apparition, where Narcissa would join them just outside the wards and bring him through so that Lucius wouldn’t notice the change in signature from the Black blood crossing the barrier. This close to the Yule gala, her husband wouldn’t question her walking and sprucing up the grounds to prepare for their guests. Both Malfoy parents were often scarcely seen leading up to the event, busy with their respective roles—Lucius with his political schmoozing and mingling, and Narcissa with her event planning and delightful hostessing.
The Malfoy patriarch was away on a business call when the group of teenagers were deposited in the foyer by an absolute buzzing Narcissa. She flitted from window to window, peering through curtains and fiddling with her bracelet. She constantly smoothed the skirts of her dress nearly a dozen times before her head whipped up to face the front door. She gripped her wand tightly in hand and marched determinedly to the edge of the long walk where Mippy and Sirius waited.
Moments later, Narcissa was ushering Sirius through the entryway, her arm wrapped tightly around his, with the most sincere smile Draco had ever seen grace her lips. It was infectious, Draco found himself smiling at the pair of cousins, who clearly cared for each other dearly. Sirius was sporting his own goofy grin and patted her hand repeatedly as if to assure her that he was real. Sirius Black had instantly lost his hard, sharp demeanor upon seeing Narcissa, and although he still held the angular, aristocratic features of the Black bloodline, he had softened significantly in her company.
“Oh Draco, dear! I cannot thank you enough for bringing Sirius here!” She temporarily let go of her grip on her cousin to wrap her hands over her son’s cheeks, lovingly. “You’ve brought me the best Christmas gift a mother could ever hope for, darling,” she kissed his forehead as a tear glistened down the side of her face. Well that’s one less gift I need to buy, I guess.
“Enough of that, Cissa!” Sirius chided playfully, and both of the Black cousins laughed. It was such a strange sight—the scraggly escaped convict and the prim and proper society wife grinning like fools, and emitting such joy it made the rest of the room feel as if they were missing out on some amusing secret. Narcissa led them all to the dining room, where Mippy had prepared an early dinner for them all. Everything had been piled high on silver platters, and laid across the center of the long rectangular table. It quite resembled a Hogwarts feast. It appeared Sirius held the same sentiments as he quickly deposited himself into the nearest chair and began loading his plate to the brim.
Draco and Pansy stared in shock and horror, looking from Narcissa to Sirius and back; waiting for the inevitable lecture and scolding. When none came, Theo flopped into one of the open chairs and did the same, a widespread smile plastered on his face. Pansy and Draco, still afraid to bear the wrath of the witch, sat down and politely plated their food.
Pansy mumbled to Draco in an aside, “since when is Malfoy Manor an asylum for the mentally unstable?”
Draco nearly choked on his wine, coughing and spluttering as he tried not to draw his mother’s attention with his laughter. Pansy smirked as she delicately took another bite of her supper, enjoying the savory taste and the success of making Draco laugh out loud at the dinner table. He playfully elbowed her under the table and her smirk turned into a wide, sparkling smile—nearly as wide as Narcissa’s.
Pansy spent the remainder of the evening touching Draco in some fashion—linking her arm into his elbow when walking, pushing her knee against his under the table, purposely brushing her hand against his when reaching for something. At first, Draco took it as just an accidental slip here and there, but by the end of the evening, he had grown suspicious. He wasn’t the only one.
Blaise pulled Draco aside after Narcissa and Sirius had retired for the night. “Are you and Pansy, like, a thing now?” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice and Draco quickly set to putting his mind at ease.
“No!” He said a bit too loudly. “I, uh, I mean no, definitely not. But something weird is going on with her for sure,” Draco rubbed his face uncomfortably.
“She likes you,” Blaise said bluntly.
“Well yeah, she’s like my sister,” Draco shrugged.
“No, no. I know you don’t like her like that but she definitely fancies you, mate,” Blaise said again teasingly.
Draco’s face drained of color and twisted into a look of horror. Blaise chuckled at Draco’s unfortunate realization, no longer feeling threatened by a possible relationship between his best friend and his ex-girlfriend who weirdly now live together.
“How do I make it stop?” Draco asked quickly. “She knows I don’t like her like that right? I mean, clearly I have an unhealthy obsession with Granger that practically everyone but Granger is aware of—I almost sent her an owl to invite her to the gala before I realized all of fathers “associates” would be in attendance—“
Blaise held up his hands as his laughter only increased. “Mate, everyone knows about the Granger thing. Even Pansy. But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna stop her. If there’s one thing we know about the girl, it’s that she loves a good challenge, yeah?”
Draco took in his words and mulled them over. “Maybe you’re right…a challenge…” Draco smirked with his best Slytherin grin looking right at Blaise, who had no idea what he had just inspired.
…
“Hey Pans, can you help me with something?” Draco called after breakfast the next morning.
She turned toward him with big doe eyes and a coquettish look. Blaise and Theo were heading toward the library to meditate for their animagus training. Blaise gave them a single look over his shoulder, curious as to why Draco would need Pansy for anything at the moment. Draco slung an arm around her shoulder, leading her in the opposite direction of the other two boys.
“What did you need help with, Draco,” she batted her lashes at him, and honestly it was disconcerting to be on the receiving end of that.
He shuddered. “Pansy, you know you’ve always been like a sister to me, right?”
“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” she interrupted, anger frothing and bubbling past her lips. Draco sighed, he knew he had chosen the wrong words. “A sister ?! Is a sister someone you drunkenly SNOG in the library? Is a sister someone you comfort by KISSING?!”
“Well, no but—“
“Don’t you dare! I know you have feelings for me, even if you misplace them in some weird obsession over stupid Granger because how obvious is it when you pick the person who is the exact opposite of me to follow around? Think I’d never figure it out? Well I’m not dating Blaise anymore,” her eyes dipped as she said Blaise’s name, and Draco clung to that movement. He would need this to work, and fast.
“You still love him though,” Draco said quickly, if he could capitalize on the emotion she just felt, it might create an opening for his little devious plan. “And he still loves you.”
Her jaw dropped.
“He was jealous last night, y’know,” Draco pretended to inspect the plaques under the portraits of a few ancestors hanging on the wall.
“He—he was?” She asked softly, before remembering herself. “Why would he be jealous? You two are friends again. He clearly doesn’t want to be with me, or else he’d have already said something.” Pansy crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall, brooding.
“Oh come on, Pans, he was embarrassed by how he treated you and Theo, and it’s easier to admit that to another guy than it is to say to the woman you love,” Draco moved in closer, leaning against the wall next to her.
She side-stepped, adding back in another six inches of space. “Right. And I’m just supposed to believe you?” She rolled her eyes. ”Don’t you want me?” She turned to face him, her head leaning against the wall, arms still crossed.
“Pansy, you really are like my sister. I’m sorry if I ever gave you any reason to believe otherwise—“
“But—“ Pansy tried to speak, but Draco held up a hand.
“Let me finish. No more confusion, okay?” She nodded and he continued. “You kissed me. You snogged me. Not that I didn’t enjoy it,” he added quickly, seeing her tears begin to form. “But, I don’t think we’re right together.”
She sniffled, trying to hold back her disappointment and embarrassment.
“I just thought… sniff …you always told me I was beautiful… sniff sniff …and then you were always coming to my rescue—“ the tears she had been holding in finally spilled down her cheeks, dribbling black mascara with them.
“I’ll always come to your rescue, and I’ll always tell you you’re beautiful,” Draco smiled, tugging the reluctant girl into his arms for a tight squeeze. “I care about you, Pansy Penelope Parkinson.”
She shoved his shoulder hard, “Don’t you dare! I told you that in confidence!” Her face turned scarlet.
“Oh, c’mon, Pans! It’s not that bad” He playfully smirked, and slowly she started to smile a bit.
“Fine. But nobody else can ever know, okay? Just don’t use it in front of people,” Pansy sniffled one last time.
“Okay, so want to hear my plan now?” Draco waggled his eyebrows in a very Theo manner.
“Plan?” Her face turned toward him, very interested.
…
Lucius had arrived home the following evening after dinner. He had no interest in seeing to any of the gala details, but wished to have a private meeting with Draco in his study.
“Draco, how are your studies this term?” Lucius began, reclining his large, black leather chair behind his desk. Draco sat across from him in a smaller, but matching chair, feeling much like a young child about to get a scolding.
Does father know about Sirius? Surely, he would’ve thrown the man out of the Manor by now if he did…
“Fine. I’m still nearly top of all my classes,” he remarked carefully.
“Right, the Muggleborn girl.” Lucius said, distracted by the papers on his desk. “How are you doing, keeping up with your extra classes. Is the time turner working well?”
Draco froze. “How-how did you—“
“Who do you think advocated for you to be able to have it?” Lucius smirked, giving his son a cheeky wink. “I saw the approval for Miss Granger to have one, and thought it an unfair advantage. Luckily, many of the Wizengamot members agreed with me and petitioned on your behalf for to be allowed the use of one as well. Minerva took some convincing, but seeing as you’re also a star pupil ,” Lucius’s eyes gleamed with mirth, “she permitted it.”
“So you got me the time turner?” Draco asked incredulously. Now that he thought about it, though, he shouldn’t have been all that surprised. Of course father would want me to have access to all the same things as Granger to stay at the top of the class.
“I did,” Lucius smiled, then turned back to the letter he held in his hands. The smile grew wider, and the man eyed Draco before handing it over to him.
Dear Mr. Hagrid,
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.
However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee’s offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.
Yours in fellowship…
There followed a list of the school governors.
“So does this mean…?” Draco looked up at his father expectantly, his lips turning upward.
“That that beast of a hippogriff is going to be executed? Absolutely.” Lucius plucked the letter back out of Draco’s hands and tucked it into a folder on his desk. “Sweet justice,” he muttered under his breath.
“Not that I doubt you at all, father, but I just hope you’re prepared for a fight from the groundskeeper and Potter,” Draco scrunched his brows together, contemplating all the ways Potter could muck this up.
“You think I can be undermined by a thirteen year old and a half-giant?” Lucius drawled, unamused.
“No,” Draco scowled at the implication. “I just think you shouldn’t underestimate the Potter Effect.”
“The what?” Lucius’s perfect blonde brows shot up to his hairline.
Draco sighed. “Potter’s indescribable ability to get his way, whether by luck, outside help and prejudice, or puzzle pieces just magically falling into place at his feet.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense and you know it, Draco. If something falls apart on you, you simply didn’t work hard enough for it to succeed.” Lucius stood up from behind his desk, and began to pace as he lectured. “You must anticipate every possible move your opponent may take, then have a plan with contingencies to counter each one.”
“Yes, father.” Draco chose to not argue his point further. He would get the point once Potter somehow saved the bloody chicken from execution and then Lucius would finally see Draco didn’t complain about the Chosen One nonstop for no reason.
“I expect you to continue your academic excellence,” Lucius said, sitting once more, distracted by the papers he was rifling through.
“Yes, father,” Draco said blandly.
“You may go.”
Draco stood at his obvious dismissal, and promptly joined the rest of his friends in the library where they planned their Diagon Alley shopping trip for the following day, for last minute Christmas gifts.
…
Their shopping trip was successful, as well as extremely overcrowded. It seemed the entire population of Wizarding England had made it a point to not even begin shopping for Christmas presents until Christmas Eve. Witches and wizards of every size, shape, and color were shoving and bustling through Diagon Alley. There was a constant hum of voices chattering away with a few random shouts of “hands off!” and “I had it first!”.
Pansy flitted off, weaving through the throng of people to stop off in Twilfit & Tattings to look for a gown for the gala. She had found a suitable dress for Christmas dinner, but was at a loss for something more formal. The three boys stopped off at Flourish & Blotts so that Theo and Blaise could not-so-secretly shop for Draco and he could very undeniably shop for a gift for Granger. Draco was suspicious at first, but didn’t say anything, until he had finished looking for something to give her. He was certain she’d already bought out most of the store, but he came across a few older volumes he was willing to bet she hadn’t gotten to yet. Blaise and Theo took one look at the ratty, old texts he was carrying toward the counter, and burst into laughter.
“I’m not shopping for Granger, I’m just browsing,” Draco said, taking offense at his friends’ accusations.
“And buying that ghastly thing?” Blaise snorted, carefully lifting the corner of the leathered cover—careful not to get any of the grime and dust on his fingers—before letting it snap shut.
“And buying this book, yes!” Draco snatched the book out of reach. “Careful, the binding is fragile!”
“Listen, mate, it’s fine! We’re not judging you, or anything,” Blaise smirked.
“Yeah, we know you fancy her—“ Theo teased.
“Everyone knows,” Blaise rolled his eyes.
“Okay, everyone knows,” Theo conceded, “but who else could you possibly be shopping for? You and Granger are practically the only two people we know who love books enough to warrant giving them as gifts.”
“Precisely why we came here to buy you a book for your Christmas present,” Blaise grinned, as he and Theo slid two books onto the counter, their backs blocking the titles from Draco’s view.
Draco, Blaise, and Theo left the bookshop, leaving their purchases to be sent to the Manor so they wouldn’t have to carry an extra thirty pounds of weight around with them. The boys met Pansy outside the robes shop, and the four of them strolled down the alley, looking in all the windows at the displays. The entirety of Diagon Alley had been thoroughly decorated for the holidays. Fairy lights twinkled everywhere, baubles and ornaments hung from every possible ledge or hook. Smatterings of tinsel draped and wrapped around each window, lamp post, and sign.
The festive sight filled Draco’s heart with warmth. It was such a happy memory that he wanted to savor—four best friends walking through the snow on Christmas Eve, surrounded by a busy street and glowing shops. It was a sight he wanted to remember in his mind forever. Theo must’ve been thinking similarly, as he draped both arms over Blaise and Draco’s shoulders and Pansy wrapped her arms around Draco’s other side.
A few fluffy snowflakes began to drift overhead, and Pansy tipped her head to the sky, catching one on her tongue. The grey clouds above them were turning dark as the day was fading into night, and the lights around the alley flared brighter in the change of contrast. The four teenagers huddled closer, the absence of daylight dropping the temperature enough for a chill to permeate through their winter cloaks.
“Brrrr,” Pansy shivered in the cold, clinging even tighter to Draco’s side. “Everyone get what they came for? It’s freezing!”
“Well, actually, I could really go for some Florean’s—“ Theo began facetiously before Blaise and Draco groaned in annoyance at the fiftieth joke he had made that day of similar quality.
“Alright, let’s go!” Pansy declared, linking arms once more and leading them in a beeline for the public Floo inside The Leaky Cauldron .
They queued up to use the Floo, and just before it was their turn, Draco took one last glance around the pub. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had been looking for until he felt a pang of disappointment when he hadn’t spotted a single head of bushy brown hair. The green flames engulfed him as Blaise said “Malfoy Manor!” in a stately tone. I really need to get this under control.
He stepped out of the hearth, ducking his head as he maneuvered his recently taller frame. I can’t keep expecting to just run into her. It’s absurd. I don’t even know if she’s still pissed at me…did we make up? I can’t keep track of it all…wait—make up? It’s not like we’re dating! What the bloody hell is wrong with me?! This has to stop—oh, but I just bought her that book…she’ll love it I think, actually I know she will—STOP IT—I can just imagine her nose scrunched up from reading for too long…STOP STOP STOP!
“Hello? Anybody home?” Theo waved his hand in front of Draco’s eyes, comically trying to get his attention.
“What?” Draco snapped, projecting his inner turmoil.
“Uhh, Pansy went to go show your mum her new dress, did you want to get some meditating in? The full moon’s only a few days away and with Christmas tomorrow, we won’t have much time…”
“Yeah, sure,” Draco said despondently.
Just what I need, more time alone in my own head. He grimaced.
After nearly two hours of meditation, and still no hint at his animagus form, Draco trudged up to his room only to find Pansy laying across his bed, her feet kicked up behind her as she flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly .
“Oh good, you’re back!” She patted the spot on the bed next to herself and went back to idly turning pages. “So show me what you got Granger.”
“Wha—? Pansy, you can’t be serious,” Draco furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Did I stutter? Show me. Now,” she demanded harshly before switching to an innocent pout at breakneck speed.
“Ugh, fine,” Draco walked over to his closet, pulling out the delivered package from Flourish & Blotts that held two books he thought she might find interesting.
Pansy snatched the wrappings off the books, and before Draco could beg her to be gentle with them, she snorted and tossed them back on the bed. “What. Is. That?!” She crowed.
“Books?” Draco snapped. “One of them being very old and very rare, thank you !”
She rolled her eyes at his defensiveness over books . “Well that’s a terrible gift, even for Granger.”
“She loves books! Besides, I made sure to pick out one I knew she would find interesting since she doesn’t have much background in the Wizarding world, and the other is rare and a collector’s piece, which she would also appreciate—besides the content isn’t half bad—“
“Draco, you don’t get the woman you love BOOKS even if it is Granger! ” She admonished.
“Wait— love? ” He started to interrupt but she plowed on.
“Yes, love! Now what exactly do you think Potter and Weasley got her for Christmas gifts, huh? Books and sweets! You moron, you’re about to put yourself in the same category as those two shit-for-brains!”
Draco growled at the comparison, “well then fine, Pansy, WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU SUGGEST?! ”
“Well for starters, give her the damn books—“
“But you just—“ Draco’s eyes nearly crossed trying to figure out what was happening.
“Shut up. You’re going to give her the books, then you’re going to sit and think of something meaningful . What does she like— NOT books!— and then spin off of that.” Pansy smirked at him, knowing he now owed her a very big favor.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Draco whinged.
“Do I really have to walk you through this? I took you for more of a sensitive guy—“ Pansy goaded.
“Hey! I can be sensitive!” He scowled, offended.
“Good, then come up with something! Toodaloo!” She hopped off the bed, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder in a farewell.
“Fuck.”
…
Draco spent incredibly too much time on Christmas Eve fretting about what he could possibly give Hermione Granger besides a book. He wrapped up the new copy of An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe and the very old edition of A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions .
The final gift didn’t form in his mind until nearly half past midnight. He knew it needed to be finished and sent off with the owl soon if he wanted her to open it on Christmas Day. Draco scoured the library for nearly three hours before finding the right book to teach him the N.E.W.T. Level charm to bring his idea to life. He got a stack of parchment and began practicing casting the charm. It took another hour before he got it to work somewhat properly, but he still needed more time. Hesitantly, Draco pulled the pocket watch out and began to flip the sand over four times.
Four hours. Please. Just four hours.
A flash of cerulean blue light bounced off the high ceilings of the library, and time twisted grotesquely around him. Draco felt his stomach squelch with the force of the magic, and his heart dropped. He wasn’t going back just four hours…
…
When the spinning stopped, Draco found himself in a dark room, lit only by two lamps lit lowly across the room. He bumped into the corner of a writing desk and swore under his breath. He could hear voices in the hall—shouts, pleas. There were at least two different feminine voices all bickering passionately.
Draco slid along the wall, as the door was cracked open and he wasn’t ready to be seen—if he even could be seen, he still wasn’t sure yet. He peered through the gap and was shocked to see a young woman with thick, dark curls piled on top of her head. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were deepest and a dark brown, nearly black. Her face was twisted up in a bitter scowl.
Another young woman, not much younger moved in front of the door, temporarily blocking his view. A man’s voice boomed down the hall in fury.
“ GET OUT! ” He yelled.
“Papa, you don’t mean that! Just listen to me!” The girl blocking the door cried.
“ LISTEN?! Like you’ve LISTENED TO ME??” He roared, and Draco saw a large male hand cut through the air, a SMACK following as he made contact with the second girl’s face. The hit turned her entire upper body and Draco finally got a look at her face before she covered her cheek with her palm. She was a softer mirror image of the first girl, but with lighter brown hair, her curls more tame than wild. The likeness was shocking, and something in the back of his brain sent him digging through mental images, looking…for something, anything .
“Papa please, don’t,” a tiny whisper camel from the other side of the door, hidden from view.
“Come, ma petit fleur,” the deep voice instantly calmed. Draco edged his way closer to the crack in the door to see a large, well-dressed man, with still-full, graying hair lead a young girl down the hall, her long fair tresses swinging with each step. She glanced back over her shoulder at the other two witches, tears streaming down her face.
The woman with lighter brown hair reached out a hand, silently calling for the younger girl, who had to be about his own age, but the man was firm in his grip on her. The blonde girl struggled, trying to pull back toward the older girl, but the man tightened his hold until she cried out, nearly falling down the steps as he forcefully led her away. The eldest girl, black curls sparking with her palpable anger, glided into her line of sight.
“Sister. You have one last chance to stop this family from ripping apart,” she said in warning, poison dripping from her lips. “If you repent, father will be forgiving in your punishment, I’m sure of it.” Her mouth curled up in a malicious grin. Draco could tell she sincerely believed the words she was saying, but that she would also enjoy any pain her sister would receive at their father’s hand.
Draco finally pieced it together. The significantly momentarily less-crazed woman standing before his eyes was none other than his Aunt Bellatrix. He was about to witness his Aunt Andromeda be burned off the tapestry. He was sure of it.
Taking a more detailed look around him, he noticed the tell-tale gaudy French decor that would mark a home of the Black family. His mother had rarely spoken of the place she grew up, wholeheartedly adopting the Malfoy lifestyle the moment his parents were betrothed. However, there was no mistaking the scene before him—he was in Château Noir, the summer of 1969.