Drabble: Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy
Here is Drabble Request Number Three. It’s from estriel who requested Harry/Draco, post-war, mirror(s).
As today is Draco’s birthday, I thought I would try and tie that into the drabble. I hope it works. It’s a little rushed, but as there are only fifteen minutes of 5th June left, I wanted to get it posted.
Enjoy a bit of angst.
Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy
---
Extract from the Daily Prophet Monday 5th June 2006
Death Eater Released
Word has it that Draco Malfoy, reputed Death Eater and follower of You-Know-Who, is to be released from Azkaban Prison today. A spokesperson for the Ministry of Magic (who wishes to remain anonymous) has told this reporter that after being held in Azkaban for the last two years, Malfoy (26) is to be released without charge after no proof could be found that he had actually been with the Dark Lord during the Reign of Terror (1999-2002).
It had been believed that Malfoy fled to Finland shortly before Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord and he was extradited from in February 2004. But after a through investigation by Ministry Aurors, it seems that Malfoy actually fled Great Britain during the summer of 1997, shortly after the death of Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry....
---
They’d refused to let him have a mirror. The reflection in a Wizarding mirror could talk to him and they didn’t want him to even have that small comfort. For six months he didn’t see himself, except for the occasional reflection in a window and the only people he spoke to were his interrogators; even the house-elves who brought his food weren’t allowed to talk to him. They thought the isolation would break him, but he was a Malfoy. To occupy himself in the small cell he took to learning every inch of it, searching for a weakness in the structure while hiding his own weaknesses not only from his gaolers but from himself.
During his search, he found something pushed into the mortar between two bricks almost at floor level. It had been hidden behind the narrow, wooden bed and because the only opportunity he had to dig it out was during darkness, it was another month before he extracted his prize.
It was a small square of age-spotted mirror and he stared at his reflection for a very, very long time before hiding the glass in the wall again. He tried not to look into it too much; the face that looked back at him wasn’t the one he remembered from before being sent to Azkaban. But it was addictive, especially when he saw and spoke to no one for days on end. He imagined that the reflection in the mirror wasn’t himself; after all, Draco Malfoy was known for being stylish with perfectly groomed hair and skin. The reflection had long untidy hair and dark shadows under eyes that had almost lost all their colour.
He talked to the person in the mirror; whispered conversations at the dead of night. He told the mirror thing that he’d never told anyone. It became his confessional and sometimes he wished he could just fall into the mirror and lose himself inside it.
---
“Malfoy.”
The voice made him jump and he hurriedly pushed the mirror into the pocket of his robes before turning towards the door. He tried to work out how many days it had been since he’d last seen or spoken to anyone and decided it was probably a week.
The man was dressed in Auror robes and he decided it must be time for yet more questioning. Cursing the fact he hadn’t been able to hide the mirror and that it would probably be found, he finally looked at the man.
It wasn’t one of his usual interrogators and it took him a moment to realise that the messy black hair and green eyes were familiar. He frowned and stared but couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name. Instead he looked away and studied the floor.
Potter stepped into the cell and as the silence between them stretched and stretched, he finally spoke again. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
He hadn’t expected politeness, and especially not from someone like Harry Potter. He said nothing and waited for the pain that always followed pleasure even when that pleasure was only from someone being polite to him.
The cell’s single chair was scrapped over the stone floor and he knew Potter had sat down. “I’ve come to take you home, Malfoy. You’re free.”
He still didn’t look up. Potter was playing games and he wasn’t going to react; instead he clenched his hands, aware that the pressure was making his knuckles white. Then Potter leaned towards him and he caught a freshly washed soapy smell from the man that made him long for a bath and to feel clean again. A sheet of parchment was pressed into his hand.
“There was a Hearing and the Ministry have dropped all charges.”
The parchment crackled under his fingers and he smoothed it across his knees. His sight wasn’t as good as it used to be and he wondered if he might have to wear glasses like Potter. But the word ‘Pardon’ was clear enough, as was his name and the date.
“You’re free to go, Malfoy.”
He ran his fingers over the date and finally looked up at the fresh-smelling man. “When does Weasley arrive and tell me this is a trick?”
“He won’t. I’ve been following up details of your stay in Finland and ... other things.” Potter took a breath and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a small mirror. The glass had been broken and repaired at some point, but the surface was still cracked.
He stared at the mirror for a moment before carefully taking his own mirror from his pocket. It was the same size as the one Potter was holding.
“That’s a two-way mirror.” Potter gestured towards the glass in Draco’s hand. “My Godfather gave me this one and he had another with him when he died. I forgot all about the mirror until I was clearing out my old school trunk about a year ago. I found the broken bits in the bottom of the trunk and I was going to throw them out, but I couldn’t -- it was the last thing Sirius had given to me. So I repaired it and then one day I was looking at it and, well, I saw you in it and you were talking about ... things.”
He felt a sudden flush of embarrassment flood through him. Was Potter saying that he’d listened while Draco had spilled his thoughts and dreams and fears?
“I didn’t understand it at first -- how I would be seeing you in the mirror when Sirius had the other one of the pair. But then I found out you were in the same cell he’d been in for all those years. I checked with Remus ... Remus Lupin ... and found out that there were four mirrors in the set. My father had one, so did Remus and Sirius. Peter Pettigrew had the fourth one and I think Sirius must have managed to get it from him and had it when he was brought here. I think he’d hoped to contact Remus and explain what had really happened.”
“You had no right....” A slow ball of anger was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach.
“I know and at first I shut the mirror away. But I had to look again and there were things you said -- things that didn’t fit in with what everyone believed about you. I started looking into what you said and managed to substantiate most of it -- when you went to Finland, what your role in Voldemort’s army really was. And....”
“And what?”
“And I’m ... sorry it took me so long.”
The anger dissipated a little and finally he read what was on the parchment. “Is it really the fifth of June?”
“Yes it is. Happy birthday, Draco Malfoy.” Potter nodded and got to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
---
As today is Draco’s birthday, I thought I would try and tie that into the drabble. I hope it works. It’s a little rushed, but as there are only fifteen minutes of 5th June left, I wanted to get it posted.
Enjoy a bit of angst.
Happy Birthday, Draco Malfoy
---
Extract from the Daily Prophet Monday 5th June 2006
Death Eater Released
Word has it that Draco Malfoy, reputed Death Eater and follower of You-Know-Who, is to be released from Azkaban Prison today. A spokesperson for the Ministry of Magic (who wishes to remain anonymous) has told this reporter that after being held in Azkaban for the last two years, Malfoy (26) is to be released without charge after no proof could be found that he had actually been with the Dark Lord during the Reign of Terror (1999-2002).
It had been believed that Malfoy fled to Finland shortly before Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord and he was extradited from in February 2004. But after a through investigation by Ministry Aurors, it seems that Malfoy actually fled Great Britain during the summer of 1997, shortly after the death of Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry....
---
They’d refused to let him have a mirror. The reflection in a Wizarding mirror could talk to him and they didn’t want him to even have that small comfort. For six months he didn’t see himself, except for the occasional reflection in a window and the only people he spoke to were his interrogators; even the house-elves who brought his food weren’t allowed to talk to him. They thought the isolation would break him, but he was a Malfoy. To occupy himself in the small cell he took to learning every inch of it, searching for a weakness in the structure while hiding his own weaknesses not only from his gaolers but from himself.
During his search, he found something pushed into the mortar between two bricks almost at floor level. It had been hidden behind the narrow, wooden bed and because the only opportunity he had to dig it out was during darkness, it was another month before he extracted his prize.
It was a small square of age-spotted mirror and he stared at his reflection for a very, very long time before hiding the glass in the wall again. He tried not to look into it too much; the face that looked back at him wasn’t the one he remembered from before being sent to Azkaban. But it was addictive, especially when he saw and spoke to no one for days on end. He imagined that the reflection in the mirror wasn’t himself; after all, Draco Malfoy was known for being stylish with perfectly groomed hair and skin. The reflection had long untidy hair and dark shadows under eyes that had almost lost all their colour.
He talked to the person in the mirror; whispered conversations at the dead of night. He told the mirror thing that he’d never told anyone. It became his confessional and sometimes he wished he could just fall into the mirror and lose himself inside it.
---
“Malfoy.”
The voice made him jump and he hurriedly pushed the mirror into the pocket of his robes before turning towards the door. He tried to work out how many days it had been since he’d last seen or spoken to anyone and decided it was probably a week.
The man was dressed in Auror robes and he decided it must be time for yet more questioning. Cursing the fact he hadn’t been able to hide the mirror and that it would probably be found, he finally looked at the man.
It wasn’t one of his usual interrogators and it took him a moment to realise that the messy black hair and green eyes were familiar. He frowned and stared but couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name. Instead he looked away and studied the floor.
Potter stepped into the cell and as the silence between them stretched and stretched, he finally spoke again. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
He hadn’t expected politeness, and especially not from someone like Harry Potter. He said nothing and waited for the pain that always followed pleasure even when that pleasure was only from someone being polite to him.
The cell’s single chair was scrapped over the stone floor and he knew Potter had sat down. “I’ve come to take you home, Malfoy. You’re free.”
He still didn’t look up. Potter was playing games and he wasn’t going to react; instead he clenched his hands, aware that the pressure was making his knuckles white. Then Potter leaned towards him and he caught a freshly washed soapy smell from the man that made him long for a bath and to feel clean again. A sheet of parchment was pressed into his hand.
“There was a Hearing and the Ministry have dropped all charges.”
The parchment crackled under his fingers and he smoothed it across his knees. His sight wasn’t as good as it used to be and he wondered if he might have to wear glasses like Potter. But the word ‘Pardon’ was clear enough, as was his name and the date.
“You’re free to go, Malfoy.”
He ran his fingers over the date and finally looked up at the fresh-smelling man. “When does Weasley arrive and tell me this is a trick?”
“He won’t. I’ve been following up details of your stay in Finland and ... other things.” Potter took a breath and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a small mirror. The glass had been broken and repaired at some point, but the surface was still cracked.
He stared at the mirror for a moment before carefully taking his own mirror from his pocket. It was the same size as the one Potter was holding.
“That’s a two-way mirror.” Potter gestured towards the glass in Draco’s hand. “My Godfather gave me this one and he had another with him when he died. I forgot all about the mirror until I was clearing out my old school trunk about a year ago. I found the broken bits in the bottom of the trunk and I was going to throw them out, but I couldn’t -- it was the last thing Sirius had given to me. So I repaired it and then one day I was looking at it and, well, I saw you in it and you were talking about ... things.”
He felt a sudden flush of embarrassment flood through him. Was Potter saying that he’d listened while Draco had spilled his thoughts and dreams and fears?
“I didn’t understand it at first -- how I would be seeing you in the mirror when Sirius had the other one of the pair. But then I found out you were in the same cell he’d been in for all those years. I checked with Remus ... Remus Lupin ... and found out that there were four mirrors in the set. My father had one, so did Remus and Sirius. Peter Pettigrew had the fourth one and I think Sirius must have managed to get it from him and had it when he was brought here. I think he’d hoped to contact Remus and explain what had really happened.”
“You had no right....” A slow ball of anger was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach.
“I know and at first I shut the mirror away. But I had to look again and there were things you said -- things that didn’t fit in with what everyone believed about you. I started looking into what you said and managed to substantiate most of it -- when you went to Finland, what your role in Voldemort’s army really was. And....”
“And what?”
“And I’m ... sorry it took me so long.”
The anger dissipated a little and finally he read what was on the parchment. “Is it really the fifth of June?”
“Yes it is. Happy birthday, Draco Malfoy.” Potter nodded and got to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
---