The Journal of Regulus Arcturus Black

Chapter 26. A Slytherin's Paranoia

Dear Regulus,

I'm Draco Malfoy, your godson. You don't know me and I don't know you. I know parts of you, parts of who you wanted to be and why you did what you did during the war. I read your journal and if you're angry about that then I suggest you take it up with Kreacher because he gave it to me.

He's fine by the way. I know you have a soft spot for the house-elf and I can understand why. Kreacher is a very good house-elf, going above and beyond to attend to my needs. I do find him a little overzealous at times but I believe he's just excited because I'm one of the last Black's in our family that's alive.

I thought I'd share a few facts about myself because you'll never have the chance to meet me. So my name is Draco Malfoy, recently changed to Draco Black under your name because You-Know-Who is back and Mother (your cousin, Narcissa) thinks it'll be safer to leave my home. It's all preposterous to be honest with you. The Black name itself is notoriously known for being Dark so let's hope Mother actually took the time to think things through.

I'm a Slytherin through and through, of course. I'm also a Seeker for the Quidditch team and have been since Second year. I have extraordinary friends; Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode. I've just been made the youngest Lord Black and I also deflected from the current Death Eater rising.

That's right. I'm a neutral lad now.

It must be pretty depressing, knowing that there's still a threat of war even when you died and it being almost twenty years later. I'll finish reading the rest of your journal at some point within the year, Kreacher and I are fascinated by your accounts. You did well in making sure that there was sufficient information about what happened in your years.

Hopefully, I help in providing the same information.

Your godson,

Draco Black.

***

Wearing a hood and covering the top half of his face, Draco hunched in on himself and walked along the quiet street of Diagon Alley. What was once a joyous and bustling street full of colour and children excitedly pointing and dragging their parents along for a shopping spree, was a quiet melancholy lull. The skies had started to grey and Draco had gotten word that there were even attacks in the muggle world. With their muggle news covering the 'ambiguous' attacks.

Everyone in the wizarding world knew better and with the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, trying to act aloof it seemed like Fifth year all over again. With the need for someone other than adults to try and stop You-Know-Who and eventually save the Wizarding World. Draco walked quickly and skittishly against the roads, taking open streets and with his wand gripping tightly in his hand.

It wasn't uncommon to find everyone holding their wands at the ready. There were too many attacks now, too many people that were afraid of Death Eaters.

He made his way to Twilfitt and Tatting's, a robe shop known for its pureblood ideology and a place for the more fanciful and richer wizards. Draco walked inside and scoured the rest of the patrons until his eyes fell on a woman with familiar blonde hair and the Malfoy insignia on her outer cloak. He tried to remain discreet as he walked over, sidestepping away from other customers until he made his way over to his mother.

Draco wasn't subtle as he grasped his mother's arm, eliciting a small gasp from her before he lifted the hood of his cloak and gave her a small smile. "Hello Mother," he greeted warmly.

"Draco," she whispered, eye watering and face falling into a stunned but soft expression that he knew was only ever saved for himself.

Draco selfishly watched his mother, as she gathered the rest of her items and spoke quickly to her tailor, before looking back at her son. It had been too long since he made direct contact with her and with the new way wizarding society moved, it seemed like it would remain a long time until he could see her again.