Chapter Text
My fairest Lady,
I'm glad to hear your sister is getting healthier by the day. I’m also glad to hear my potion and ointment worked.
Now, when I read what you wrote I was fuming. How come a low class, a flame down, an uneducated, a fashion-savvy, can even think to call you “inadequate" just because you have velaa blood in your veins. I don't understand how you can manage to be so calm. If it was me I would do unspeakable things to him.
Though I would like to accept your offer to visit France, unfortunately I am forbidden to leave the Manor. At least not by my side and as you know my father is very occupied, even for his own son. But if you wish I am honored to welcome you and Gabrielle here at the Manor.
I found your gift so thoughtful that I will make it a family heirloom. Tell your grandmother my thanks.
With the best wishes
Draco
~
Draco carefully blew the ink off the paper. Once he was sure it was dry, he quickly cast a sealing charm and gently tied it to the foot of the owl waiting nearby. The owl hooted at him as if to say, "Trust me," and flew away through the open window. Once again, Draco find himself looking after her. Perhaps he could blow up the dungeons once more. But Dobby and Hone had cleaned for three days straight the first time. Maybe he could make potions - Severus locked the potions room. He could cook - The house elves were throwing him out of the kitchen.
He also couldn't find the Horcrux even though he searched the mansion from top to bottom three times. He didn't know exactly what kind of thing he was looking for. He knew it was a cursed diary, but all the books in the library were cursed anyway.
To make matters worse, Shivo didn't talk to him yet. So what if it had only been a few days since summer had started and it had been almost two weeks since he had spoken to Shivo, which was the first time they hadn't spoken for so long. Draco guessed, Shivo has some more important things than Draco, being a deity or whatever. But still, Draco would have loved a notice. Lately, he felt like people were hiding things from him. Blaise, his father, and Severus. The only thing that was making him feel better at the moment was Ginny asking him to go shopping with her when her Hogwarts letter came.
“Dobby brought some things that Dobby is sure the young master would like.” The house-elf's tiny voice made Draco shiver where he stood. Bloody elves popping out of bloody nowhere. Dobby slowly brought the box to him. He handed her the box and bowed his head. The box looked as if it had been carved from black stone, and dozens of different flowers were carved on its lid. “It belonged to the late mistress.”
“Mother?” Draco asked foolishly.
“No, young master.” The elf shook his head fiercely. “Mistress Persephone, young master's grandmother.”
“Oh… Wait, why are you giving me this now?” The elf lowered his gaze guiltily, and the box he was holding began to tremble. Was he afraid that Draco would hit him? But Draco had never hit them before, not ever. Maybe he had ignored them, but he hadn't raised a hand.
“Miss Black had ordered Dobby to destroy them.” His lip began to tremble. ”But how could Dobby do such a thing?” Now, he was crying full blown. Draco slowly took the box from the elf's hand. “These are Dobby’s precious Mistress belongings. Dobby would rather cut off his ears than destroy them, young master.”
“Do you still have my grandmother's things?” The elf nodded with teary eyes at Draco's question. Then he grabbed Draco's hands and teleported away with a pop sound. The first thing he noticed was the dust. Even though there was no window or light source in the room, the dust in the room was visible. Either that or Draco could see really, really well in the dark. Dobby sniffed and lit the torches on the wall. Frankly, Draco was surprised that the room hadn't caught fire. The room was many times smaller than his own room. You still managed to get so much stuff, bravo. Draco thinks.
There was also a large wardrobe made of the stone from which the box was made. A few chests were covered with lace covers. On a mirrored table were a bunch of boxes identical to the one he was holding in his hand. On the walls hung more than a dozen portraits, some moving or not. All of them belonged to the same woman. He felt his breath caught in his throat. He slowly walked over to the nearest painting. Two people dressed in white were looking at him, laughing. One was a carbon copy of his father, but up close he could see the freckles on his face. It was his grandfather, Abraxas. He was looking at the woman next to him, smiling from ear to ear.
And the woman next to him was a... Goddess. Yes that must be it. Millions of stars were shining on her dress, despite the color of the dress and the sunlight, as if it were their last duty. The sun seemed to have placed a crown of its light on her head, as if submitting to her. She was smiling lovingly at Abraxas, her smile widening when she noticed Draco. It was then that Draco noticed her eyes. Her eyes were so blue, as if they had imprisoned the sky. They were saying hello to him under her burgundy hair.
Burgundy. Draco had never realized how much he liked burgundy. He started looking at the other portraits one by one. Some of them were from before marriage. In some of them she was with her sister Penolaphe. They didn't resemble each other at all. Penolaphe had yellowish hazel eyes and brown hair, not even the shape of their faces were the same. Some of them were with Lucius. Draco laughed a little at them because his father looked so boyish.
In the last one, there was his grandmother as a child. Maybe even younger than Draco. She was wearing a purple, lacy dress and was looking sheepishly at the butterfly on her finger. She had that sweet smile on her face again. His grandmother was beautiful. As always. But what caught his attention was the way the portrait was painted. It was the same as the portrait at Hogwarts, except that in this one used more vibrant colors.
“Dobby, do you know who painted this portrait?” Draco asked in daze. Still looking at her smile. But the sound of something hitting the wall harshly shook him from his hypnosis. When he turned to the sound, Dobby was crying and banging his head against the bloody wall. For a few seconds, Draco didn't know what to do. “That- that is enough, Dobby. Stop hitting yourself.”
“But Dobby is a bad house elf. How can Dobby not know the painter?” BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Stop it immediately!” Commended Draco. The poor thing would only understand that. “From now on, I don't want you to hurt yourself. This also applies to other elves as well.” He added afterwards. “And… If father tries to punish you, come to me first.” He didn't know how much they would comply. After all, his father was their master.
“Oh no! No no no no no. Master doesn't punish us. Master just ignore us.” He must have seen the expression on Draco's face behind his teary eyes because he continued. “It was Miss Black.” He muttered. Draco was only able to open and close his mouth. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. It was like removing a plug, the water wasn't dripping out but was literally overflowing. How come he never saw these things in the past? Was he really that blind or simply he just… didn't care. Maybe Draco isn't different from Narcissa as he thinks he is. He was still that little bully, useless child, disgrace, name-
“~BREAKING DISHES!~” He screamed. Little Dobby, God bless his heart, jumped in fear.
“What?” Dobby mumbled.
“~I'm breakin' dishes up in here, all night ~” Singing was his only salvation. It was his first rule, if you feel under the water scream songs until you’re okay. And scream he did.
“Does the young master want to break things? Dobby can arrange things if the young master wants.” Dobby said in a puzzled voice. Draco couldn't help but snicker. Now, breaking things would make him feel better but he wasn't feeling it. Instead he looked at the room once again. He hadn't even opened or examined anything yet. Draco was sure his grandmother wouldn't be angry.
“No Dobby. But you can bring these to my room. One by one, I’ll look at every single one of them.”
~
Soon enough, his room turned into a chaos made by old clothes and shiny jewelry. There were a few old books on his bed. And a unicorn horn on his desk, which reminded Draco the baby unicorn Sparky. All of the jewelry was in good condition, and Draco planned to use it all, of course. Most of the clothes were out of fashion and too big for him. But miraculously, he had a dozen dresses, shirts, and trousers that fit. Finally, he had hung a few portraits in his room, including the portrait of his grandmother when she was little.
“Emeralds!” An elf said behind him.
“NO! Opals!” Another one argued back.
“Of course, it's pearls!” Joined a third one. All three of them were arguing over which one looked best on Draco. They fought over everything from the hair clip in his hair to the dress he was wearing. “Young master, which one do you like the best?” Asked the pearl one. All of them, of course, what kind of question was that? But if Draco had to choose one…
“Diamonds. I really like ‘em.” Draco said without much thought. But the elves around him smiled as if Draco had just said the sweetest thing in the world. Welp, this day couldn't get any weirder. “They are shiny and Dragons like shiny things.” He smiled. Elfs bloody cooed. His smile dropped. They were acting like Draco was a baby.
“Of course they do, young master. Sheri will find and bring all the diamonds.” With a small pop house elf disappeared in the air. But instantly another elf appeared where Sheri went. He opened his mouth to say something to Draco but when he noticed the state of the room, he didn't hold back from glancing at the others.
“Master and sir Snape have arrived. They want your presence down below, young master.” Once he knelt, he went away as quickly as he had come. The others followed him. Only Dobby was with him, and Sheri, who appeared with diamonds in hand. Draco smiled and rolled his eyes and told Sheri to go to the others. She bowed and left.
“Dobby, what do you know about Harry Potter?” Draco asked with a cute smile. The elf's eyes sparkled.
~
“Where is he-SHIT!” Lucius jumped a few inches in the air and held his heart in fear. He jumped so cartoonishly that Draco had to hold back his laughter.
“Stop sneaking up behind people, Draco.” Severus, who had become accustomed to Draco's habit by force, walked towards one of the armchairs without losing his composure. He didn't even look at them. Draco chuckled and followed him.
“Son.” Lucius' cold voice echoed through the room. Draco felt his smile freeze on his face. But without dropping that 'cute' smile, he turned to Lucius “What are you wearing?”
“Oh! Well, I found it in one of the locked rooms. I believe it belonged to grandmother.” He played dumb. What was he going to do? Was he going to yell at Severus in front of him? Ha! Lucius didn't have that courage. “How does it look, father?”
“That is a dress, Draco. A gown rather.” Flabbergasted, Lucius eyed him.
“Yes, father. I’m aware. How does it look?” Draco rolled his eyes. Draco didn't put it on without knowing it was a dress. Seriously, did they think he was stupid?
“I don’t think it is a prop-
“I think it looks lovely on you, Draco.” Severus interrupted Lucius. Draco turned to him immediately. Severus had a tiny smile on his face. Those black, dull eyes of his looked at him with such love, perhaps for the first time.
“Do you, really?” His voice was higher than he had intended. Severus nodded in approval. He was still smiling. “Oh, well. I thought this shade of purple wasn't my colour but if you say so.” He turned around as if to show off the dress.
“I used to wear my mother's clothes too. They were a bit too big for me though so she would sew the ends inward to fit me.”
“She could've just bought one.” Lucius murmured from his seat. Severus gives him a very, very pointed look. Lucius seemed to sink into the ground and come. “Yeah, I- I’ll be quiet.” Seriously Lucius, stop being a twat to the poor people, would you? While the elves brought tea and snacks, Severus told Draco about his childhood memories, or rather, his memories of his mother. He told him about how his mother had taught him to sew, the potions they had made together, when and where to pick the mushrooms, and many other things. He also told him about a girl. Even though Draco couldn't understand the relationship between the two, he understood that the girl was someone important to Severus.
As he drank his tea, Draco realized something. Severus would always be there for Draco, no matter what he did. Regardless of both past and present, he was always there. Somewhere deep inside, he felt warm to find at least one person who accepted him.
~
A gentle breeze blew across his face from the open window. Even though it was summer, the mansion was cool at night. Although when had the mansion ever been warm? This day has been a good one. He couldn't help but smile as he put on his pajamas. He looked out the window one last time as a melody filled the dark room. The crescent moon made the backyard sparkle as if it were made of silver. At times like these, Malfoy Manor seemed more like a temple than a ghost house. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a shadow by the fountain. When he realized there was nothing there he shrugged. It is most likely an optical illusion. He closed the window and got into bed. The bed was soft. He closed his eyes and enjoyed it.
Feeling like he was being watched, he opened one eye. A tall silhouette was standing in front of him, leaning over him. Draco let out a silent scream. If it wasn't happening to him he would find it very funny. Then suddenly the silhouette disappeared. With shaky hands, Draco pulled the covers over himself. Because it was the smartest thing to do in such a situation.
“It is me.” A feminine voice rings through in his mind. Not a voice but voiceses. Even though it was only for a few weeks, it was easy to forget Shivo's voices.
“I am mad at you.” Draco pouted. “Don't talk to me.” Draco was truly angry this time. No matter what Shivo did, Draco would not talk to her. This time, let her understand what it means to be ignored.
“Come now, don't be a sour puss.” Said Shivo. He could tell from her voice that she was rolling her eyes.
“What did you call me?”
“A sour puss. Because you're acting like one.”
“If someone goes weeks without saying anything to you and then comes back as if nothing happened, you act the same way.” Draco spoke breathlessly into the void. There was silence for a long time. Neither of them said a word.
“I- I know who painted that portrait.” Shivo said. Draco’s eyes opened. “I can take you to him.”
“Realy?” Draco murmured, He spoke as if he was not convinced, as if he did not believe her. And he didn't believe her.
“Yes I can.” He thought he heard a finger snap. Then suddenly darkness swallowed him. It happened suddenly. For a moment he was in the darkness, and then in a blink of an eye, he found himself in a cold corridor. There were no signs of life around.
“Why did you bring me here?” Draco asked tiredly. He was sleepy and his feet were bare.
“You wanted to meet the painter, no? In the cell at the end of the corridor. Up you go!” What did she mean by ‘in the cell’?! Where did this lunatic take Draco? You know what, Draco didn't care anymore. He very well might die. Oh but wait! Can he die? Hopefully the answer was bloody yes because Draco didn't want to wake up from his sleep to another damn morning forever. Waking up everyday seems a little excessive.
There was not a single chandelier, lamp or torch to illuminate the corridor. Thankfully, Draco could see well in the dark. Although he was beginning to lose feeling in his toes. At the end of the corridor stood a door covered in various charms and runes. It was old and the doorknob was starting to mold. He had removed the charms more easily than he had thought. A single whisper and they had vanished. The door swung open with an ear-piercing screech. The inside was a notch better than the outside. Still, Draco had to cover his nose and mouth to avoid the dust. There was a tiny window directly in front of him. Draco wrinkled his nose. What could anyone be doing here?
“Hello there, child.” A dry old voice was heard from behind him. Draco gasped and turned around. An old, tired man was examining him with sunken eyes. “What wind brought you here?”