Glory |A. Potter|

Twenty-One

The ashes in the fireplace seemed to have come to life, springing up flames—ones that closely resembled the murky water of a lake in colour—that reached high up, embracing the lone figure that now stood right under the chimney. The woman who had just arrived slowly reached down, to her black trousers, and seemed to dust them off any ashes as the flames were put out as suddenly as they had sprang up. She shook her feet so no dust would be left on her shoes and left the fireplace.

She was a rather tall and thin woman in her late sixties, dressed in black, elegant clothes, her grey pin-straight hair reaching her chest. She was standing straight, her appearance betraying her upbringing. Her face was beautiful despite her age, the wrinkles around the corner of her eyes, on her forehead and on the side of her mouth noticeable but not unpleasant to the eye. She looked around, eyes of glass taking in every little detail until she noticed the man that had stood up from his earlier position on an armchair and was walking towards her.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled slightly as she laid eyes on her son and her smile remained as Draco stopped right in front of her and lowered his head to press a kiss on her cheek. She took him in as he pulled back, attempting to find any change in his appearance that had taken place in the short time she hadn't seem him since the ball in the Manor. It had only been a few days, barely a week. She found soon enough nothing seemed to have changed about Draco.

"You seem well rested," she commented and Draco's lips almost instantly lifted into a smile.

"I've had a few days off so I've had the chance to sleep for more," he admitted, "Jane hasn't been any trouble and she's keeping Scorpius rather busy."

"You have plenty of time to take naps, then," Narcissa concluded. "Where is Scorpius, Draco? I'd like to see my grandson and meet his friend."

"Of course you would," he nodded to himself as he moved to the side, allowing her to walk beside him. "Last I saw them they were playing chess in the small living room we sometimes used when father was still around."

Narcissa hummed in realisation as she walked beside her son to the location of the aforementioned room. "We should meet them there, then."

Draco nodded in agreement as he turned to face her. "You know you could always visit more often, mother. You don't have to be all alone in the estate."

"I would hate to bother you," she admitted, "it's not that I don't miss you."

"I know," Draco murmured as he looked ahead. "You could always stay here permanently again, though."

Narcissa's eyes widened slightly as she looked up at him. "Draco, this is your home-"

"It was your own home too for a long time and it's empty for most of the year anyway," he pointed out, "the Manor is too spacious for just two people to stay in and most of the time I'm alone here. Your company wouldn't have been terrible."

Narcissa hesitated still. "Draco, I understand your pain, but you should really try to start your life again. Astoria is gone but there are plenty of other people around-"

"Mother-"

"And if you ever decide to take that step, I would hate to be an obstacle on your way. This home is yours and your family's. I don't need to be here."

"You are my family," he insisted, "and Scorpius loves it when you come. You really should think about it."

Narcissa let her gaze glide over to meet his own, her expression softening as she reached over to place a hand on his wrist, squeezing it gently in a form to reassure him. Draco let out a short breath as he looked over her, his brows furrowed and he shook his head. For a moment, it seemed as if he was attempting to stop his mind from going down a train of thought he had attempted to lock out again and again, his feelings kept at bay, locked in the back of his mind, fighting the urge to remind himself all he had missed. Draco wasn't certain whether it was his strength or his weakness that prevented him from relieving all memories he denied himself.