Howl

“My mother says she’ll pick us up and drop us at your house.” Draco informs me as we scour the Hogwarts express for an empty booth. “She wants to meet you. I think she’s heard about your family.”

“All good things I hope.” I don’t mention that I’d rather his mother had heard nothing about my family. After all, it wasn’t her business to know.

Draco smiles reassuringly at me as we duck into a booth ourselves. He takes my hand in his and my nerves die down with each swipe of his thumb. I sigh and stare at the streaming landscape out of the window. I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet his parents. His father worked for the ministry, after all, and the ministry had a habit of putting it’s where it wasn’t needed.

“I think we should relax.” He tells me and I turn back to his blue eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were grey or blue but I would spend the rest of my life pondering it. “We deserve that, don’t we?”

I bite my lip at his words. What was Draco doing this year that he needed to relax? I thought of the past two months of meeting him early in the common room and each time he looked just as exhausted, if not more, than the last. Draco was up to something and I didn’t know if I was in a position to ask.

Draco looks like his mother.

She is a beautiful woman with soft features and a kind, albeit strained, smile. She has light eyes, like her sons, and they regard me thoughtfully as Draco and I approach her with clasped hands.

“Draco, come here, come here.” I figure she babbled and cooed as most mothers did. Not that I was too sure. “Let me see you!”

“Hello, mother.” Draco murmurs through gritted teeth and I smile happily at the pair. It was a nice sight and the feeling must be so much better. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

His mother – Narcissa – reaches a hand out to me, which I accept, and pulls me closer to him. “You must be Lyall! I used to be good friends with your mother.”

I stare at her. Words escaped me at her statement. Draco grins at the two of us. They don’t know. Narcissa doesn’t know.

“Where is she? I’d like to see her.”

“She’s—” I clear my throat and moisten my lips. I never liked being the deliverer of bad news. Especially when it was my own bad news. “I’m sorry, rouva, but my mother is dead.”

Narcissa covers her mouth with her brittle fingers and her eyes widen in shock. I hear Draco gasp but I don’t turn to him, even as he says, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Are you okay, Miss?” I reach a hand to her shoulder and squeeze gently. I had time to process and understand that my mother wasn’t coming back, but to have the news dropped on you as Narcissa did was something I didn’t want to feel myself – even if they hadn’t spoken for years. Narcissa brings up her hand and places it over mine with a soft smile.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She nods her head as we make our way towards to Ministry appointed car where a driver is waiting for us. “I’m terribly sorry. We hadn’t spoken in years or else I would have been there for you and your family.”

“It’s no bother, Miss.” I slide into the car, beside her and Draco slips in next to me. “I wonder if you could tell me about her when she was my age.”

Narcissa’s face lights up and she begins to tell us all of the trouble that she and her mother got up to. How Narcissa was in Slytherin and my mother in Gryffindor but they were the best of friends. She told me about the boys they liked and the teachers they hated and how, years later, they kept in touch after they had left Hogwarts.

“But then, not long ago, we just lost touch.” Narcissa says, a faraway look passing over her features. “You don’t look much like her, you know, but I still see her in you. She was a Metamorphmagus, you know.”

I grin brightly at her and flutter my eyelids, with each flutter my eyes changing colour. Narcissa grins and claps her hand. “Oh, I always loved that!”

“Lyall’s a registered animagus, mother.” Draco beams at me proudly, as his mother raises an eyebrow curiously. “McGonagall had her demonstrate in class.”

“Much to my dismay.” I say.

“Such talent for such a young mind.” Narcissa smiles. “I’m glad you and Draco are friends, I’m so happy to have met you.”

Narcissa begins giving direction to the driver to their home – he was going to stick around to take Draco and I to mine after we picked up some of Draco’s things - and Draco and I broke off into our own conversations.

“We won’t stay long,” he tells me as his home looms into view. I smile and he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll pick up some stuff and show you around, sound good?”

“Perfect.” I tell him. The car stops and he steps out, extending an arm to me to help me. I gratefully accept his hand and allow him to pull me out. I look up to his home and smile sadly. “Your house reminds me of ours back home. Mahthava.”

“She says it’s beautiful, mother.” Draco says as he leads me inside. I raise an eyebrow at him – how on earth did he know Finnish? “I’ll show you around.”

By show me around, Draco meant he would take me to his room and let me invade his privacy while he packed his bags. His room was green and silver like our house colours. I ran my fingertips over the spines of the few books he had and flipped through the Quidditch pamphlet he had from the 422nd World Cup. To the corner of my eye, I notice a flickering picture in a mahogany frame by his bed. Draco wraps an arm around my shoulder as I gaze at the five people in the photo.

The woman were sitting in wooden garden seats, laughing over drinks while the children sat at their feet, laughing and slapping soppy kisses onto each other’s cheeks.

“My mother put that there.” He tells me and points to a much younger version of Narcissa and I see now that the blond child was Draco. I slide my eyes over to the other woman.

She was utterly, undoubtedly beautiful. She had long dark hair that fell to her hips and a bright smile. Her eyes never stayed on one colour for more than a second as she laughed. The girl at her feet didn’t resemble her greatly, but there was something about her that was similar. The last child was a boy, crawling over his mother’s chest as he sought out attention.

“Draco…” I knew the people in the picture. “Draco, that’s my family. That’s me.”

Draco squints closer to the picture and I shiver as his hands slide to my waist. A small smile overtakes his features as he recognizes my tiny little face. “Huh,” he chuckles and tussles my hair as baby Lyall plants a returned kiss on baby Draco’s face. “I guess even then you were all over me!”

I gasp and shove him away, ignoring his protests as I giggle.

Draco grips me around my waist and heaves me into the air. I squeal and grab onto his shoulders, but end up pushing him backwards until he stumbles and flips us onto the bed. Still laughing, he brushes a strand of my dark hair back gently.

I see his eyes flicker down to my lips and I stop breathing as he leans in—

“Draco!” He and I break apart as his mother enters the room with a pile of presents fountained high on a house elf's tiny arms. “I thought you and Lyall would like to take these so you have something to open. I have things for Lyall too!”

Draco, begrudgingly, picked up the last of his bags and the four of us – including the little house elf – made our way back out to the front of the house and exchange long goodbyes and promises with Narcissa (much to the driver’s annoyance).

I quietly tell the driver where to go and he informs us that we should be there in the next twenty minutes. I relay this information to Draco.

“That’s good.” He tells me as he gazes out the window. I smile even though he isn’t looking.
I let my thoughts run loose. I had a lot to think about and something was telling me that this car journey isn’t going to be filled with conversation and laughter.

My first thought: Was Draco about to kiss me? I wasn’t sure and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, and, even more, how he felt about me. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to handle these weeks alone with him…

Second: I still had to mend things with Hermione and the others. Hermione was the first friends I made in this country and I was stupid to think something was more important than that. I wasn’t going to survive long with just Neville and Draco.

Thirdly: There was some things I had to deal with regarding my father. I couldn’t live with all the guilt he piled on under the façade of love. I couldn’t. I felt like a criminal in my own home because he told me that I—

I shake my head as though I could shake away the thought.

It’s Christmas and I deserved to relax.

“Draco,” I say it s quietly I’m not sure he even hears me, but he turns to suddenly that I wonder if he was waiting for it. “How did you know?”

“How did I know what, love?” My fingertips tingle in an unfamiliar but pleasant way at the nickname.

“Beautiful.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No!” I push him gently and giggle. “How did you know that’s what I said?”

“Oh,” he blushes and I scrunch my nose up at the sight. He was so cute. “I was learning Finnish so that…” I don’t catch the remainder of his sentence.

I ask him to repeat.

“Okay! I wanted to be closer to you,” he mumbles and I giggle before sidling up next to him. Draco glances away and refuses to look at me. “I thought ‘beautiful’ would be a good one to know because… well, you know.”

“No, I don’t believe I do.” I smile. “Do share.”

“Because you’re beautiful!” he growls and I chuckle.

I slide away from him and we lapse back into a comfortable silence which is interrupted as the driver informs us that we’re here. I take a deep breath and hop out of the car.

The house was large, perhaps the same as Draco’s home. The stone was washed out by the rain and it stood out desolate and alone. The whole structure looked as though it was held up by three massive pillars, but they just held up the second floor balcony that extended from my room.

“Woah.” I turn to see Draco ogling the structure and I smile, pulling him inside. I look at the house in contempt, but if he liked it then I wasn’t about to make him feel otherwise. “This is brilliant.”

“I’ll show you to your room.” I say and he follows me to the sweeping staircase. “It’s right across from mine.”

I don’t miss the look of disappointment on his face and I inquire as to why his face was so down.

“Oh, nothing. I—I was just hoping that, well, I was wondering if I can stay in your room.”

The corner of my lips tug upwards but I refrain. “You want to sleep with me, Draco Malfoy?”

“When you put it like that,” he scrunches his nose up but I lead him into my room anyway. “I just wanted to be close to you.”

This boy would be my downfall.