[Wattys '13 FINALIST] How Can I Love You When I Hate You So Much? (Draco Malfoy)

How Can I Love You When I Hate You So Much? (Draco Malfoy) Chapter 22

Chapter 22 First impressions haven't ever been my forte anyway.

Tonks left soon after my awkward family moment to "retrieve the rest." I sat in the kitchen talking with Sirius and Lupin for a while, listening to stories of when they were at Hogwarts. I laughed at the likeness that Snape was talking about. I really did take after my uncle.

"So what is the Order of the Phoenix?" I asked suddenly, reminded of the note from Dumbledore. Sirius smiled and started to speak, but Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat.

"She's only 15, Sirius. Do you really think it wise to-" she started, but Sirius cut her off.

"I heeded your advice on Harry, Molly, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot tell my own flesh and blood." He said in a low voice that was obviously forced patience.

"Harry?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "What does he have to do with it?" Before Sirius could answer, Grandma Black started screaming from the hall. More visitors. Mrs. Weasley and Lupin stood to quiet her shrieks. Sirius made a face and sighed. Before I could repeat my question, a flurry of fiery red hair swirled into the dark kitchen.

"Don't know what we would have done without you, Harry. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." Said a voice I didn't recognize. I did, however, recognize the collective glare that was turned my way by the headquarter's newest inhabitants.

"Jez? What are you doing here?" Harry asked, breaking the moment of uncomfortable stares.

"Hm, well...breathing, digesting, aging, I imagine. I think my hair is growing, too." I said in a bland tone, my eyes flicking to Fred, who fought a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Harry, would you and Jez come with me for a moment?" Sirius said, putting a hand on my shoulder. We followed him up two flights of stairs to an old study where the wall was covered in what appeared to be a giant family tree. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Toujours pur. My eyes followed the bright golden webbing to the bottom of the tree.

"You're not on here." Harry pointed out. My eyes lingered on my mother's name, my father's, and my own. Harry wasn't looking at the tapestry anymore, though, but at Sirius.

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home." Harry's eyes were on the tree again, but he obviously was not as observant as I thought. I shot Sirius a questioning look, but he didn't respond.

"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.

"Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dads in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here, too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr and Mrs Potters for Sunday lunch, though.

"But . . . why did you . . .?" I started. Harry jumped, apparently forgetting I was even there.

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother and sister, soft enough to believe them . . . that's them." He pointed now to my mother's name, and the name of their younger brother, Regulus. Both with death dates 15 years ago. My body tensed as I saw Harry's eyes travel along my mother's branches to my name. Date of birth 3 months prior to my mother and father's death. Harry's eyes shot to me.

"You're..." He said, his eyes full of an emotion I couldn't place. "That's why you are here... The uncle Dumbledore found is..." He looked at Sirius now, who was grinning like it was the best news he had ever given anyone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked Sirius.

"He just did, I thought. Roundabout as it was." I interjected.

"Harry, I don't see what it matters. You're still my godson and still family. It's just a little bigger now." Sirius said in a tone you would use when trying to convince a small child. I smiled at Harry, who grimaced and left the room.

"Merry Christmas, Harry!" I called after him.