You'll Be In My Heart

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A/N: My awesome friend justforpractice (you should check her out, she writes Malfoy things and made the lovely cover image) gave me a prompt for a one-shot involving Narcissa talking to Draco before he leaves for Hogwarts for the first time. Title is from the Phil Collins song.

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Draco fidgeted with the latch on his trunk, determined to find something to do with the time he had left to himself before he needed to turn in for the night. He was expected to be awake at a reasonable hour in order to make it to King's Cross before the train's departure, after all.

I wonder what it will be like. Really.

He'd heard an endless supply of stories from his parents about their time at Hogwarts, but knowing about the moving staircases and the ghosts that were likely to wander in through a wall at any given moment didn't mean Draco would know how to react if he found himself delayed to his lesson because a staircase had been temperamental or if the school's resident poltergeist took an interest in taunting him. He knew in theory that his father's friend Severus Snape would be one of the professors, but would knowing the man outside of class be a benefit or a hindrance? Would Snape seek to avoid the appearance of favoritism and be harder on Draco as a result, or would he offer assistance?

What of the Sorting? Apart from one of his mother's cousins—one the family didn't talk about, anyway, for reasons Draco had only heard in fragments and in passing—every one of his relatives had been in Slytherin. Draco couldn't stand the thought of being the odd-one-out.

He snapped the latch closed and stared at it with a frown.

Everyone would laugh at me, he thought.

"Draco?"

He jumped. Though the voice was soft and instantly recognizable as belonging to his mother, he'd been too absorbed in his worrying to notice her approach. He turned to find her standing in the doorway.

"Are you nearly finished?" asked Narcissa. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'm fine," said Draco flatly, shaking his head.

His mother held his gaze for a long moment, and then the corners of her lips turned downward. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

Narcissa sighed. She stepped forward and closed the distance between herself and her son, sitting down at the edge of his bed in front of where he'd lain his trunk and patting the spot on the blankets beside her. Draco lowered his gaze as he sat, mentally chastising himself for doing a poor job of hiding his emotions. Before he had the chance to speak, his mother wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

"Tell me," she said.

Briefly, Draco considered lying, but he knew she would more than likely see through any attempt he made to do so. She'd always been able to tell. Naturally, this meant he'd gotten away with very little that he'd attempted to hide.

"Will you be angry if I'm not Sorted into Slytherin?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

Draco looked up to find his mother frowning.

"Of course not," she said. "Draco, I'm not going to be angry with you no matter what happens tomorrow." She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. "You're my son. I will love you and be proud of you no matter what that hat says."

Draco smiled a bit sheepishly.

"And besides, there were a few people I've known in Slytherin that I would've much rather seen in another House so I could've avoided them altogether. Not everyone in the House was the most pleasant, and you're a far better person than quite a few of them."

"Like who?" asked Draco, raising a brow.

"Well, I never particularly liked Alecto or Amycus Carrow. Don't get me started on Thorfinn Rowle." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Fenrir Greyback was... problematic, to say the least. And our Head of House was Professor Slughorn, and while he was always kind to us, he was also a bit absent-minded, at times. He was known to take too strong of an interest in the students and our families—it was fairly embarrassing to show up late to a lesson because he felt like questioning you about how everyone you're even distantly related to is doing." Narcissa shook her head, starting to smile. "It was impressive, though, I have to admit. I've never met anyone else with his ability to memorize family trees."

"Will I meet him?" asked Draco.

"He's retired, now, but perhaps we'll introduce you, one day. He's bound to show up at one dinner party or another."

"Who's that?"

Draco glanced toward the door to spot his father, who was watching them with a grin.

"Slughorn," said Narcissa.

Lucius nodded understanding. "I'm surprised he didn't show up on the doorstep when he heard you were born, actually," he said, looking to Draco. "Merlin only knows he'd been telling people how excited he was to see us marry for years. You know, even before we'd decided to."

"Before we'd announced it, anyway," added Narcissa. "It wasn't exactly a secret that it was probably going to happen."

Lucius chuckled. "No, not at all. Supper's ready, by the way."

"We'll be there in just a moment." Narcissa smiled at him.

Lucius glanced to Draco and nodded. "Don't take too long—if it gets cold, I'll have to feed it to the peacocks." He started off down the hall, and Draco looked up at his mother with wide eyes.

"He's only teasing," said Narcissa, looking as though she was trying to suppress a laugh.

"He'd better be," Draco muttered.

Narcissa gave him a squeeze with the arm still wrapped around his back. "Is anything else troubling you, love?"

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know. I just... I'll be new to all of these classes, and..." He sighed. "I don't want to disappoint you two," he mumbled, half-hoping she hadn't heard him. Unfortunately, it was a vain hope.

Narcissa rested her hand on Draco's cheek and gently guided his face until his gaze met hers. "Draco Lucius Malfoy," she said firmly, "listen to me. You could never disappoint us. Never. I want you to walk into that school tomorrow with your head high and know that no matter what happens—even if you fail all your lessons or get expelled for being more handsome than all the other boys—we will always be proud of you and be there for you, whether you want us to or not. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mum." Draco's eyes stung with tears, but he didn't want to allow them to fall. He would've felt foolish crying with relief. He leaned forward to hug his mother, hoping she hadn't noticed the moisture forming in his eyes. "Thank you."

Narcissa held him tightly and pressed a kiss to his hair. "It's the truth. Now let's go eat supper. I know your father wants to see you before you leave."

Draco nodded, not resisting when his mother took his hand as they climbed off the bed. He followed her out into the corridor without glancing back at his trunk. He would have time later to consider whether he'd packed everything he needed. For now, he would focus on enjoying his last night at home with his family.

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