Undeniable Truths

49~ Gone

I stare hard at Father, so hard I think my eyes might bleed.

Shaking his head, Lucius' expression shrivels up into a harsh scowl, his teeth bared with disgust, "He's no son of mine," he spits, "blood traitor."

I feel something shatter in my chest. That final, fleeting delusion that Father just might accept my relationship with Granger gives way like a wall that's been crumbling for years. But it wasn't just my relationship with Granger he is refusing to accept. I know my father- my own flesh and blood- is denying me.

The new me.

The better me.

I force myself not to react. I've never cried in front of my father before and I'll be damned if this moment is the tipping point. I don't flinch. Don't blink. Don't move. But I feel the hurt and the betrayal all the same. It hangs, unexpressed, in my chest; heavy and hurting, pounding like a pendulum in my chest, but I ignore it.

"That's that, then," I state simply, feeling Hermione's thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand.

"I suppose it is," Lucius states.

I turn and make my way to the front door of the manor.

"Draco, wait," Mother states from behind us in the corridor.

I sigh, "You can't change this, Mother. He'll never accept me."

"Just because your father has made up his mind doesn't mean he's made mine up as well," Mother states with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"It doesn't matter, he won't allow you to see me. This is it, Mother, we can't change that."

"I'm paying for the wedding," Mother states with a hint of defiance in her voice.

I turn quickly, never letting go of Hermione's hand, "You can't."

"And why not?"

"Lucius would never allow it, you could lose everything, Mother. No, I won't allow you to go down with me," I state.

"I don't care, my only son is getting married, I'll be damned if I'm not a part of it. That's final, Draco," she states with a nasty glint in her eye that dares me to fight her.

"Have it your way. Just know, if Lucius cuts you off I will not hesitate to say 'I told you so'," I reply.

She chuckles, "I'd expect nothing less."

I stand there, studying my mother, trying to find the words to tell her what she means to me. Trying to tell her that I'd want nothing else but to have her be a part of my wedding. Trying to tell her I want her a part of my future children's lives. But I can't find the words.

She simply nods to me, "I know, Draco. I know."

"Thank you..."

I turn and walk out of the manor. The place I grew up. My first home. The place I took my first steps, rode my first broom, packed my first trunk for Hogwarts. I have so many memories- good and bad- in this place.

I make my way down the front path before I stop, turn around and look at the Malfoy Manor for the last time.

But that's the thing, it doesn't feel like the last time. It never feels like the last time. I always thought, no matter what happened, I'd always find my way back to this place. To my home. But it hasn't been my home in years. It stopped being my home after the war. But I always knew I could come back.

"Who knew changing for the better would be what made him crack," I whisper to myself.

"Draco, are you..."

"No, I'm not okay." I turn and look Hermione in the eye, "I just lost my family, my inheritance, the place I grew up. I never thought Lucius would disown me. It was like I meant nothing to him. Like I wasn't his only son. How could he do this?"

"I don't..."

"Just go home without me. I'm going to take a walk to clear my head," I state coldly.

"I'll see you at home then."

I hear Granger apparate away, but I can't make myself think about her.

I've lost everything.

I stare at the manor before me and examine it for the first time. I never truly appreciated it. I took it for granted, and now I'm paying for it.

The corridors I used to slide down in my socks. The dining room I refused to go in after the war. The kitchen I used to get yelled at for going in. My bedroom I'd hang out in for hours. The library that I've read every book in at least twice. The portraits of my ancestors. The house elves that cleaned up after me for years.

All gone.

Taken away in the blink of an eye.

"So, I'll say goodbye and tuck you away inside a place called nostalgia, where you'll always remain unspoiled, somewhere between my lungs that used to breathe in Mother's garden's air, and my stomach that used to flutter with hope. Goodbye, Father. I hope you're happy," I whisper into the night and I start my long walk home.