(HP) Things Change
Title: Things Change
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: jackiejlh
Rating: PG
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Summary: Everything changes. Our lives are altered by every little thing we do and decision we make.
At first I have the urge to ask her if she’s ill. Her face looks paler than usual. Her lips have lost their colour, and there are dark circles under her eyes. But I stop myself as I realise why she looks so different to me. This is the first time I’ve ever seen my mother’s face without the added touch of make-up or glamour charms.
That realisation upsets me in ways I barely understand. Perhaps because it brings to mind what this whole ordeal must be doing to her, how lost and helpless she must feel, how much her life has been altered in just the last couple weeks. Or maybe it is just the sting caused by the thought that our family has spent so long hiding ourselves from everyone else, we have hidden from each other as well. What does it say about us, I wonder, if I’ve never even seen my own mother’s face for what it really is?
As soon as she’s made sure the door is safely locked and warded behind her, she rushes to me, enveloping me in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, and I fight back the urge to cry. I’m an adult now; I have no excuse to cry at a time like this, when there are so many more important things that I should be doing or thinking about. That is what my father would say, anyway. My mother, however, seems to have forgotten this rule; tears are streaming down her face steadily, leaving small wet patches on my shirt.
"Draco," she whispers softly, moving only enough to manoeuvre us so that we can sit on the bed, sitting next to me but never completely breaking the hold she has on my arms. "Are you all right? Are you being treated well? Is Severus taking good care of you?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The sight of my mother, so distraught and worried, is nearly enough to break me.
"Good," she says softly, bringing one hand away from my shoulder to wipe at her face, managing a weak smile. "Have you eaten?" she asks suddenly, pulling away from me and standing, then reaching into her robes and producing several small boxes. With a wave of her wand, she enlarges them to their rightful size, and I reach for one, opening it to find a variety of different foods. But unlike the packages I once received at school, which contained sweets and cakes and candy, these items are more practical. They are purely for sustenance, not for pleasure, but they are what I need.
"I’m not really hungry right now. I think I’ll eat later…" I tell her, moving the boxes to a table on the far side of the room. The 'far side' being only steps away, since the room is barely large enough to move in. But it’s safe, and it enables me to stay tucked away in Muggle London until Snape finds a more secure place for me, so I’m not complaining.
"Have you talked to Father?" I ask softly. She sighs, sinking back down onto the bed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and then her chin on her hands as though it is almost physically painful for her to talk about him.
"He’s not doing well, Draco. He’s worried… and the guards aren’t treating him very nicely at all. He’ll be much happier when he knows that you’re safe, though," she adds quickly, as if trying to reassure not only me, but herself as well.
"Is the Ministry still looking for me?" And now Mum is crying again, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked the question.
"They were at the Manor again today," she admits, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stop the tears. "They say they won’t stop until they find you…."
"Prof… Snape won’t let that happen," I say firmly, sounding more sure of my words than I feel. "He’s managed to keep me hidden for nearly two weeks now…. Not even the Dark Lord has any idea where I am. I’ll be fine, Mum," I reassure her, turning and instinctively sitting on the floor, leaning my head on her thigh like I used to do when I was little. She runs a thin hand through my hair, sniffling softly above me, and we just sit for a few moments, neither of us wanting this time together to end. She can rarely get away from the Manor without being followed, and this is the first time she’s been able to come and see me, though Snape has managed to get messages back and forth between us a few times.
I shouldn’t be here, I find myself thinking. I should be at home, doing summer homework and bossing around house-elves, and going out with Pansy every other night, and rolling my eyes when my mother mentions offhand that Pansy would make a wonderful Malfoy one day, and….
"How did things get so…." I don’t know how to finish my question, but my mother answers me anyway.
"Things change, Draco. Things always change."
And as I sit in this seedy Muggle hotel room that I would never have set foot in a month ago, thinking about my Father, once a respected Ministry official and now wasting away in Azkaban, and looking up at my mother’s plain, make-upless face, I come to the conclusion that she’s right. Everything changes. Our lives are altered by every little thing we do and decision we make. If only I’d realised that fact earlier… if only I’d known that things could change so drastically, so completely, I’d have….
In truth, I don’t think I’d have done anything differently. And that realisation upsets me more than any other.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: jackiejlh
Rating: PG
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Summary: Everything changes. Our lives are altered by every little thing we do and decision we make.
At first I have the urge to ask her if she’s ill. Her face looks paler than usual. Her lips have lost their colour, and there are dark circles under her eyes. But I stop myself as I realise why she looks so different to me. This is the first time I’ve ever seen my mother’s face without the added touch of make-up or glamour charms.
That realisation upsets me in ways I barely understand. Perhaps because it brings to mind what this whole ordeal must be doing to her, how lost and helpless she must feel, how much her life has been altered in just the last couple weeks. Or maybe it is just the sting caused by the thought that our family has spent so long hiding ourselves from everyone else, we have hidden from each other as well. What does it say about us, I wonder, if I’ve never even seen my own mother’s face for what it really is?
As soon as she’s made sure the door is safely locked and warded behind her, she rushes to me, enveloping me in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, and I fight back the urge to cry. I’m an adult now; I have no excuse to cry at a time like this, when there are so many more important things that I should be doing or thinking about. That is what my father would say, anyway. My mother, however, seems to have forgotten this rule; tears are streaming down her face steadily, leaving small wet patches on my shirt.
"Draco," she whispers softly, moving only enough to manoeuvre us so that we can sit on the bed, sitting next to me but never completely breaking the hold she has on my arms. "Are you all right? Are you being treated well? Is Severus taking good care of you?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The sight of my mother, so distraught and worried, is nearly enough to break me.
"Good," she says softly, bringing one hand away from my shoulder to wipe at her face, managing a weak smile. "Have you eaten?" she asks suddenly, pulling away from me and standing, then reaching into her robes and producing several small boxes. With a wave of her wand, she enlarges them to their rightful size, and I reach for one, opening it to find a variety of different foods. But unlike the packages I once received at school, which contained sweets and cakes and candy, these items are more practical. They are purely for sustenance, not for pleasure, but they are what I need.
"I’m not really hungry right now. I think I’ll eat later…" I tell her, moving the boxes to a table on the far side of the room. The 'far side' being only steps away, since the room is barely large enough to move in. But it’s safe, and it enables me to stay tucked away in Muggle London until Snape finds a more secure place for me, so I’m not complaining.
"Have you talked to Father?" I ask softly. She sighs, sinking back down onto the bed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and then her chin on her hands as though it is almost physically painful for her to talk about him.
"He’s not doing well, Draco. He’s worried… and the guards aren’t treating him very nicely at all. He’ll be much happier when he knows that you’re safe, though," she adds quickly, as if trying to reassure not only me, but herself as well.
"Is the Ministry still looking for me?" And now Mum is crying again, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked the question.
"They were at the Manor again today," she admits, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stop the tears. "They say they won’t stop until they find you…."
"Prof… Snape won’t let that happen," I say firmly, sounding more sure of my words than I feel. "He’s managed to keep me hidden for nearly two weeks now…. Not even the Dark Lord has any idea where I am. I’ll be fine, Mum," I reassure her, turning and instinctively sitting on the floor, leaning my head on her thigh like I used to do when I was little. She runs a thin hand through my hair, sniffling softly above me, and we just sit for a few moments, neither of us wanting this time together to end. She can rarely get away from the Manor without being followed, and this is the first time she’s been able to come and see me, though Snape has managed to get messages back and forth between us a few times.
I shouldn’t be here, I find myself thinking. I should be at home, doing summer homework and bossing around house-elves, and going out with Pansy every other night, and rolling my eyes when my mother mentions offhand that Pansy would make a wonderful Malfoy one day, and….
"How did things get so…." I don’t know how to finish my question, but my mother answers me anyway.
"Things change, Draco. Things always change."
And as I sit in this seedy Muggle hotel room that I would never have set foot in a month ago, thinking about my Father, once a respected Ministry official and now wasting away in Azkaban, and looking up at my mother’s plain, make-upless face, I come to the conclusion that she’s right. Everything changes. Our lives are altered by every little thing we do and decision we make. If only I’d realised that fact earlier… if only I’d known that things could change so drastically, so completely, I’d have….
In truth, I don’t think I’d have done anything differently. And that realisation upsets me more than any other.