Entry tags:

100quills, fanfiction, fic: far away as moonshine

FIC: Far Away as Moonshine, 24/28
Title: Far Away as Moonshine, Part III: Seven Years Later
Author: zephre
Rating: PG (R for whole fic)
Prompt: 100quills table 50.2: Flattery
Word Count: 2,161
Summary: For Draco Malfoy, the war was one endless nightmare. Until Luna Lovegood gave him a reason to hope. Can he find his courage, make his luck, and become more than a pawn to those in power?
Warnings: (for whole fic, highlight to view) *mature themes, imprisonment, mention of rape, abuse, battlefield violence, various canon and other character deaths, sexual situations*
Concrit Wanted? Sure! Please alert me to typos or errors of continuity.

Chapter Index:
Part I:   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part II:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part III: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Epilogue

Chapter 6: In which Draco visits Hogwarts.


August, 2005

The first day free of his house arrest, really genuinely free, Draco got on his broom, spun his wand on his palm, and flew as far as he could in the direction it pointed. He ended up on the western coast of Ireland, shrank his broom, transfigured his robes, and joined a Muggle hiking party just to be around people who had no idea who he was.

His second day of freedom he spent in Snowdonia, practicing hunting in his animagus form. He had not been able to truly spread his wings because the roof of the prison wards had been so low, and it was quite a different feeling to fly in the mountains. For a few minutes as he enjoyed his lunch in a tent on a mountainside, Draco contemplated staying up here for a while, letting the world forget about him. In the end, while he enjoyed the solitude, he did not think he could go without other people for so long. He was very late getting home that day, but he did go home. 

Days three, four, and five he spent flying in the three directions he had not covered that first day. He drank with locals in the Orkneys, biked the streets of Copenhagen, and took the tour of Great Magical Sites in Paris.

Every day he came back to the Manor and felt its walls close around him like a trap, but he made no other plans.

When Luna's letter came, he almost missed it, so eager was he to get out again.

He took the envelope, and the rest of his post, out to an island in the Irish Sea, empty save for the rocks and a colony of puffins. For the last three months, as the Aurors had come round day after day for final interviews and to inspect the Manor grounds, Draco had tried not to think about Luna. He did not know what she was doing, out in the world; he had never really known. He had begun, this summer, to accept the fact that he would never know. It had always been her choice, and she had never yet shown any inclination to choose him.

He steeled himself and opened the seal. It was almost as short as Pansy's daily notes encouraging him to come out to London to socialize. There was none of the usual description of exotic places, or even a line about what she had been doing for the last three months. There was an apology, and there was this: I miss you. I'm coming home.

It was a long time before Draco collected himself enough to open the next letter.



Little more than a week into his freedom, he received an invitation from Minerva McGonagall. A few years ago, Draco would have avoided Hogwarts at all costs. These days, though, the school seemed a welcome respite from the Manor. He Apparated to Edinburgh to pick up a suitable gift, then took the train to Hogsmeade.

He had not expected to feel such a rush of emotion upon seeing the castle again. It had changed during the rebuilding, of course, but the bulk of it was the same, and after all this time and all of his crimes against it, Draco still felt welcomed by the place.

Professor McGonagall was waiting just outside the main doors by the time Draco reached them.

"Welcome back, Draco," she said with a smile that held an astonishing measure of warmth. "I trust your parents are well?"

"Well enough, under the circumstances," Draco replied, offering the plain paper bag he had carried from Edinburgh. "It's good to see you in person again, Professor."

"Please, call me Minerva," she insisted, peeking into the bag. She laughed. "My, my, Balvenie 30-year firewhisky. Am I being bribed for something, Mister Malfoy?"

Draco grinned. "Not at all. Consider it a thank you for all your help in the last few years."

"Will you show me, before we go inside?" she asked as she set the bag down at her feet. "Have you had much chance to practice?"

Draco rolled his shoulders, remembering the aches and pains he suffered after his first day of unrestrained flight. "Not much, Prof- er, Minerva. I must be the clumsiest hunter for miles, yet." He would never trade that exquisite experience, though, no matter how much he hurt the day after.

"Well, go on, then." She was using her teacher's voice, possibly without realizing it, but Draco didn't mind.

He stepped back from her and concentrated. The world shifted, colors changed, perspective altered, and then he launched himself into the air. He circled once above the castle, then swooped back down and landed on the stair railing beside Minerva. He knew he was some kind of bird of prey, he had been able to figure out that much with a mirror and his own deductions, but his sight in this form was so different from that of a human that he could not yet make subtle distinctions.

"Charming, indeed. A kestrel, I think, but we should have Hagrid take a look at you, he'd know for sure." Minerva bent close, but not too close, to examine him.  "Lovely plumage, dear, and you were quite graceful in the air. Must be all your time on a broom. A natural in all kinds of flight."

Draco preened at her flattery, then realized what he was doing and paused. This must be what the books meant when they talked about the animal instincts kicking in. He leaped from the stair railing to the ground and changed back. "Thank you, ma'am." He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I'm learning as I go."

"As did we all," Minerva chuckled, and gestured him inside. "Come to my office, let's have tea. I want to hear your plans."

Tea was easier than Draco anticipated, all things considered. He had expected Minerva to sound more like his father, urging him to find some apprenticeship or other work.

"Don't be in a great rush to decide everything at once," she advised. "But when the time comes, I will be happy to refer you to very good training."

"I thought about applying to university," Draco said as he broke a biscuit into crumbs on his plate. "But I don't actually want to set anything in stone yet."

"Have you been getting out to London at all?"

"Pansy keeps inviting me, but," Draco shrugged. "Perhaps in September."
 
Minerva, unlike most of the people offering advice, did not press him to do anything, or say anything. Once it became clear that he did not fancy a heart-to-heart about his future, she kept their conversation to Tranfigurations, a subject they could both enjoy.

Only when the tea was nearly gone and the discussion winding down did Draco ask her for a favor. "As long as I'm here," he began, "do you think Headmaster Allan would let me see Severus's portrait?"

The lines around her mouth deepened for a moment. Seven years was not quite enough time, Draco thought, for any of them to find their equilibrium regarding Severus. "Headmaster Allan is away," she told him, "but I am sure we can arrange something. Severus does leave his portrait now and then. Doesn't he have another in London?"

Draco nodded. "At the offices of the Trust, yes ma'am. And I've talked to him there, but it's difficult." He sighed. "I was never really alone, all those trips to London. Couldn't be let out of an Auror's sight, you know."

Minerva nodded as if she understood. "Let me see what we can do." She stood up and went through a small door behind her desk.

It took only a few minutes for her to return. "All right, Draco, I'll just leave you here and come back in a half hour or so. Will that do?" 

Draco did not understand what she meant at first, and she must have seen his confusion. She gestured to his right, to a painting that had a few minutes before held a dozing gardener among his roses. The gardener had gone, and Severus Snape sat stiffly in his place.  Draco turned back to Minerva only to offer heartfelt thanks, then pulled his chair closer to the painting. The door closed quietly behind him.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said when Severus said nothing.

Severus steepled his fingers under his chin and regarded Draco stonily. "Draco. Where are your handlers today?"

"Gone, sir. I was released on the tenth. The prison wards are down now."

That seemed to surprise the portrait. "Finally. And your parents?"

Draco was more honest with Severus than he had been with Minerva. Severus, after all, was practically family. "I worry about them, sir. Father was so changed by Azkaban," Draco paused and Severus shook his head regretfully at the reminder. "He wants to redeem the Malfoy name, regain some of his place in society. You know about the wing at St. Mungo's?"

Severus nodded. "Mister Longbottom told me of it."

Draco felt a quick stab of jealousy that Longbottom, of all people, had been free to visit either of Severus's portraits whenever he liked. "Well, that's a beginning, but Father does not understand what it's like to be a Malfoy in England today. He is still stuck in the past. And Mother, she's starting to fray a bit."

"And what is it like, then, to be a Malfoy in England today?"

Draco looked away. "There will always be someone willing to cast a curse at our backs."

"Which is true of everyone who was in the war, Draco. Do you think the Order is any less paranoid now? Ask Minerva how many of her former students complain of hexes in the back." Severus's voice was different as a painting, somehow not as cold no matter how harsh his words were. Draco wondered if dying had forever robbed Severus of that edge.

When Draco said nothing, Severus continued, "You should take Miss Parkinson up on her offers, Draco. Meet your yearmates on even ground. They may surprise you."

"You expect me to fit in to their group of heroes?" Draco asked bitterly.

Severus sighed, and Draco found it almost frightening to see such regret in his expression, painted though it was. "You must give someone a chance, someday. If you cannot find friends, at least learn to let them be your allies."

It was the Slytherin thing to do, Draco could not argue that.  "You sound like my father, you know."

Sorrow touched Severus's face. "Lucius has always been a survivor."

"That's what some said of you."

"Perhaps that will tell you who to listen to," Severus said with a glint of humor in his eyes. "I am only a portrait, you know."

"I miss you," Draco whispered.

Severus nodded. "I am sorry."

After that, what could be said? Draco reached out to touch the canvas, but it only emphasized the loss. The silence lasted only a few minutes, and Severus was the one to break it. "Tell me what you wish to do now."

Draco took a deep breath, debating how much to say.

"I don't know, sir. I really don't. Part of me wants to go straight into university, get my certs, prove that I haven't wasted the last seven years, you know?" At Severus's nod, Draco continued. "And another part of me wants to run as far from England as I can get, and just lose myself in the crowd."

Draco thought Severus might say something, but the man just sat in the borrowed frame, watching and waiting.

"I want to see her again," Draco confessed at last. "Just once, at least. To see if the letters meant anything." His hands curled into fists over his knees. "I'm an idiot, I know, but I can't help wishing that things could be different."

"You are not an idiot," Severus said, with enough gentleness that Draco was startled into looking up. "But do not make the mistake I made, thinking that my entire life's happiness depended on a single person."

Draco shook his head. "No, sir."

"Now go. Minerva is waiting to get her office back. Tell your father to visit me in London." Severus waved a hand toward the door, where sure enough a knock sounded.

Draco stood up as Minerva returned. "Thank you, Prof - sorry, Minerva. I appreciate the time."

Minerva reached across and squeezed his shoulder in a grandmotherly fashion. "You're very welcome. You are welcome any time, you know that?"

Draco nodded, offering her a sincere smile. "I know. I should go home now, though. Give my best to the rest of the staff."

He could tell that she wanted to say something, but she reconsidered and simply shook her head as he walked to the door. The school had not changed so very much that he could not find his own way out.

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