𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Part 12

1.

It has been four days and Malfoy has not come back. On the third day, Harry reads an article in the day's Daily Prophet that Romilda Vane was found wandering around Diagon Alley the night previous, confused and Obliviated.

Harry stashes the paper in his pocket, knowing that only Malfoy would have done something like that. He ought to feel guilty for Romilda Vane, but he doesn't care. Mostly, he cares that Malfoy must still be out there, somewhere.

He can't go to work. He can't bring himself to set foot in the Ministry and he's not going to fob his children off on Hermione or Mrs Weasley or even a Muggle sitter, not when they are still upset that Malfoy hasn't come back.

His chest constricts every time Abraxas asks him when Daddy is coming back and he looks up at Harry with his big, grey eyes that are Malfoy's. The lump in his throat grows bigger every time Pyrrha walks by him, with her fine fair hair that is Malfoy's. And Viola- she doesn't look like Malfoy, or him either, but she is part of Malfoy and it aches.

"Where are you?" Harry mutters. He closes the curtains to the living room because there is no one on the street. No one has Apparated home under the orange glow of the streetlamps. There are no whooshing green flames in the fireplace, even though Harry has taken down the privacy wards, just in case.

He is desperate enough that he Floos Tonks and Lupin. Tonks smiles at him through the flames, the green setting off her pink hair into a sort of greyish haze. Behind the fire, Harry can hear their kids running around and yelling. He misses the noises in his own home. It has grown quiet and miserable here.

"Have you seen anything odd lately?" he asks.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Lupin asks.

Harry nods. His face burns and he's sure Tonks and Lupin must have seen the newspapers, but he doesn't- he can't- care anymore about that.

"Has anyone...tried to contact you?"

Tonks says no.

Harry didn't think Malfoy would have sought out his half-blood relations anyway.

He is desperate enough that on the fifth day he arranges for a babysitter to come and he Apparates to Hogwarts. The Marauder's Map shows a bevy of students, the little moving dots memories of his own school years. But none of them say Draco Malfoy.

The students stare at him as he walks through the school, down into the dungeons. They point and whisper his name, in awe and interest. They seem so much younger than he was at their age, but then it has been years and years.

Snape is surprised to see him. He hasn't changed one bit since school either, besides the grey in his greasy hair. "What do you want Potter?" he asks, sneering slightly.

"Have you seen- I'm- do you know anything about where Draco Malfoy might be?"

Snape's eyes flicker and Harry's insides flicker with hope, but then Snape sits down and sips a cup of tea. He doesn't offer any to Harry.

"Why do you want to know anything about Draco Malfoy?" Snape narrows his eyes as he stares down his nose. Snape's glare doesn't faze Harry like it might have used to.

He breathes heavily through his nose and repeats himself. "Do you know anything?"

"What would make you think I do know?" Snape counters. "Or that I would tell you anything, Potter?"

"I'm not here from the Ministry," Harry says. "I- I need to find him. Please."

"Do you know nothing about Malfoys after all these years, Potter?" Snape drawls. "They always seem to crawl back to the place where they came from." He smirks and sits up straight, setting his tea cup down on a stack of papers, where Harry can see a big red F on the top.