Drarry One Shots

When Life Gives You Lemons... (Pt.1)

A/N This story is especially for @phantomofgryffindor who worked out a headcanon of exactly how Luna is part-Fae and related to Draco, what this means, and why the familial link is broken between the Malfoys and the Lovegoods. That part of this story is theirs with their permission to use the material. I just worked in the bit about Drarry and lemons and stuff...

It's a mix of book and film canon. Plus, I've used some character heights I found in the internet, there seems to be a consensus that book Harry is 5'11' (same as James) and Draco is 6'.

A Year Eight story. Part 1 from Draco's POV

Lemons...

Sometimes, life only gives you lemons...

There's a well-known saying: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Harry says it's better if you can add tequila and salt and get drunk. Sometimes, tequila helps with forgetting the past, though I don't recommend the hangover (also, drink responsibly and all that...) Mind you, sometimes tequila makes things worse... Sometimes, it's better to stick to lemonade, especially if you're riding a broomstick, driving, or handling heavy machinery, etc. Or if there's a press photographer nearby.

Lemons...

They pretty much capture everything about the past few years, the sting of bitterness, the tang of sickness, the kernels of hard disappointment, the questionable pointlessness of it all. All fairly depressing really. Especially when I was sent back to Hogwarts after the war to a bitter chorus chanted by the Wizengamot of 'you have to thank us for giving you this gift, however, suck on that lemon, you little shit'. Sometimes, I wondered if they knew exactly what they were doing in sending me back: if the guilt didn't kill me, then my contemporaries would. The Wizengamot were as bad as Voldemort in that sense; I would be punished for my mistakes either way.

Actually, the beatings and hexes weren't as bad as I anticipated they would be. It seemed that most of the older students saw where I'd ended up and understood that I didn't want to be there, despite the badmouthing and crap I spouted in my early years. Mostly, they just ignored me. Not ostracizing as such, just the bare minimum. I don't think they actually knew what to say to me. What does one say? Hard luck, Malfoy... but glad it's all over now, hey... That doesn't quite cover it.

Comparatively, it was the younger years who decided they could have a go at the poor defenceless ex-Death-Eater with only a restricted wand to protect himself. Forget that I regretted every single moment of it all. Forget that I'd made the most colossal mistake any human being could make. Forget that I'd apologised to those who mattered most. Forget that I'd lost my home, my childhood, my parents, and my friends as my beliefs and the foundations of my life crumbled away around me. Forget that I'd defected and knowingly helped Harry. Forget that I grieved for my late-father, even though he confused me and I hated him for what he'd dragged me into and for leading me down a route that I never thought to critically appraise until it was far too late. Forget that I missed my mother terribly because she'd been exiled to France and we weren't to contact each other except through Ministry approved channels. Forget that I was alone. So, so alone.

Of course, I didn't say any of that aloud.

Perhaps, for the first time in my life, when I wasn't wallowing in self-pity, I started to understand exactly what Harry had been through. The Boy Who Had No Choice – one could ask which one of us that described. But also, The Boy Who Had The Wrong Sort of Attention and The Boy Who No One Really Listened To, which turned into The Man Who Everyone Made Assumptions About, for both of us.

I had once thought we both had everything to gain if our opposing sides won, that's why we fought so hard for our sides. I see the horrible truth in that now. To think I once believed that Voldemort would take an unqualified, naïve, sixteen-year-old boy into his fold with open arms and favour me. Blaise tried to warn me, he tried to tell me. I was fooling myself. I was always fooling myself when I thought I'd gain the world. Instead, I lost everything. I lost everything the day I took the Dark Mark. And Harry? The difference was Harry fought for everything because he had nothing to lose; he died either way. All he gained for his efforts was a series of ludicrous names, a lot of imposing attention, and forever to be looking over his shoulder because of supporters of Pureblood supremacy or those who thought he still owned the Elder Wand. He didn't want any of that – I see that now.