Love and Other Misfortunes

Chapter 21

The sharp scream of peacocks broke the silence as they crunched along the path. It was a lovely estate. The grounds seemed to stretch out endlessly. There appeared to be several gardens and a lake in the distance.

There were elegant, brilliantly white peacocks strutting along the tops of the yew hedges and over the perfectly trimmed lawn, their long tails trailing regally behind them. Having white peacocks was possibly the most Malfoy-esque thing Hermione had ever heard of. Draco would certainly feel quite at home among all the blindingly white plumage. She snickered to herself, feeling more nervous than she cared to admit.

The manor in the distance towered over them. She couldn't imagine what it was like to grow up considering such a place "home." It was so enormous and severe looking. Hogwarts had been home, but it was shared with hundreds of other students. It must be so lonely to live in such a large place with only two other people.

As they drew closer the front doors swung open and Narcissa came running out of the manor and flung herself into Draco's arms.

"You're here. You're here. I promised myself I wouldn't cry but—look at you both. Thank Merlin, you're both alright." She sniffled as she hugged first Draco and then Hermione and then Draco again.

"Mother," Draco said, looking caught off guard by the display of maternal affection.

"Oh my. Look at me. This is terribly undignified. Oh well, your father wept over you in front of the entire Wizengamot last week. I imagine a few more tears can't tatter our reputation much further," Narcissa said, but she brushed the tears away and straightened. "Come in. We have tea."

It was the most uncomfortable tea Hermione had ever had. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the manor Draco stiffened. Lucius was waiting in the foyer and the moment father and son came within sight of one another the air grew icy as the two wizards glared, silently daring the other to speak first.

Aside from her recent visit to Malfoy Holdings, Hermione had not seen Draco and Lucius together in years. If she had been less nervous at the time, it would have been obvious to her that Draco and Lucius did not work together. The disdain on their faces was overt. There was an angry resentment between them that was barely restrained.

Draco, Hermione suspected, held Lucius responsible for the family's role in the war, and for Draco's views and opinions in school. The boy who had talked of nothing but his father, who had modeled himself so exhaustively after his sire, was entirely gone. The Lucius-esque traits she had noticed at the Ministry had actually been Draco's own unapologetic self-assurance rather than any further conscious imitation.

She hadn't realised it before because Draco had always spoken so glibly at the Ministry about "Father's orders," and how he had no choice but to accede to them. It was all a lie. Draco would never, in a thousand years, have gone to work in the Ministry because Lucius tried to demand it.

In fact, given the cold tension between them, he probably would have nothing to do with Lucius whatsoever were it not out of courtesy to his mother.

Narcissa served tea for everyone and ignored the rapidly dropping temperature in the room. Hermione seated herself on a slippery chippendale chair and half expected to find frost rimming the edge of the tea cup she received.

Lucius was an old-fashioned wizard, from a time of tremendous prejudice and abominable parenting. She wondered if Draco had any idea how much Lucius cared about him. She didn't imagine that expressing affection was generally typical in the Malfoy family, despite Narcissa's effusive greeting.

Draco seated himself beside her, tense and poised as though he expected to launch himself in front of Hermione defensively at any moment.

She pressed toward him through the bond.