The Ordeal Of Being Known

5

Dearest Draco,

I'm happy to hear that you're doing well. I still believe you work too hard, but you understand I never imagined you working at all, so I may always think this way.
I am still so proud of you, Draco, and all you've accomplished-never doubt that.
I spend my days helping the house elves prepare the gardens for spring, and reading. The roses will be breathtaking this year, I can feel it. You must come for tea, soon. I'd love for you to see the work we've done, and how much brighter the Manor looks because of it.
Your Aunt Andromeda reached out to me, recently. I was surprised she was willing to speak with me-you may remember I wrote to her years ago, and did not receive a response. We now have a tentative correspondence, and I must say I look forward to reconnecting with her. We were very close, when we were girls. She is curious about you, in her letters.

I miss you, darling. Visit soon, and please give Timsy my best.

Love, Narcissa

Draco put the parchment down on the table next to the rest of his post, and adjusted his reading glasses. It was interesting that Andromeda was finally reconnecting with Narcissa-but why now? Andromeda was the guardian and grandmother of Teddy Lupin, wasn't she? And wasn't Teddy Harry's godson? He wondered if Harry knew about this development. He didn't know how much Harry was involved in little Teddy's life, but would he want his godson that close to a Malfoy? Narcissa hadn't mentioned the boy, so maybe he didn't have to worry about that just yet.

Draco tried to control his dread at the invitation to tea. He knew he'd have to accept, sooner rather than later, if he didn't want his mother bursting in and providing one of her powerful guilt trips. She still felt he belonged at the Manor, as the sole Malfoy heir. There was a lot about Draco that Narcissa didn't understand-his career, his home, his lack of a partner (and his preference of the gender of that partner)-but he knew she loved him, anyway. He needed to see her. She was his mother, after all-he just wished he didn't have to see her there.

Draco unrolled the Daily Prophet, glancing at the headlines before tossing it to the side-something incredibly boring about certain Wizengamot members retiring, opening up positions. He picked up a small package, tied with twine and stamped with the Quality Quidditch Supplies logo, and smiled. He'd been expecting this order to come in for a while.

As he stood up to go stow his latest purchase in the shed, he heard a man's voice call his name from his floo, and he groaned quietly in irritation. He adjusted the belt on his dressing gown and buttoned up the top buttons of his pyjama shirt on his way to the sitting room.

"Shacklebolt," Draco sighed at the Minister's floating face in the fire, crouching in front of the grate. "What can I do for you?"

"Healer Malfoy," he greeted in his deep, smooth voice. "May I come through?"

Draco tried not to roll his eyes. He was still wearing his fuzzy slippers, but he couldn't really say no. He stood up fully, giving the man a wave of permission. He supposed it was nice that the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt himself, bothered to ask permission, first, when he knew Draco had given him full access to his floo.

Draco had done that after enough of their back and forth correspondence while he was studying for and subsequently applying for his Healer License-it was terribly inconvenient to correspond with the Minister normally, and he'd needed the Minister's involvement to get his license approved, considering his background. Shacklebolt had helped keep an eye on him, personally, after his trial, so they had spoken and caught up every few months since then. Draco had found it odd, but knew better than to question it. He'd figured if he could prove himself to the Minister for Magic, beloved leader of Wizarding Britain, it would help ease the way into his career, and his return to England. It hadn't, really-he still felt threatened when he went out alone, and the Licensers at the Ministry still required him to be magically bound, even with Shacklebolt's stamp of approval. But at least, Draco hadn't had any Aurors breaking down his door with every whiff of neo-Death Eater activity. That, he could probably attribute to Shacklebolt-maybe. There might have been plenty of Aurors who were itching to bring a Malfoy their own form of justice, but Weasley and Harry probably wouldn't allow that either, without sufficient cause, as committed as they were to that trademark Gryffindor fairness. Weasley had probably weeded out the corrupt Aurors himself, once he took charge. He'd have seen it all, climbing the ranks.