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Draco hung up his muggle coat next to his wizarding robes in the hallway before heading into his library for a drink. His apartment was far too quiet. With a flick of his wand, he turned on the Wireless Wizarding Network. Since when do I need noise? he thought. But he smiled because he knew that it was yet another way that his daughter had changed him.
There were two letters waiting for him on his desk. His smile evaporated when he saw who the first one was from- his mother, Narcissa. He grimaced and finished his drink in one swift gulp. Better get this over with.
Draco,
I expect you for dinner this Friday evening. I have invited your friend, Pansy, and her family to join us.
I have something important to speak with you about.
Seven, sharp.
Narcissa
Draco crumbled the parchment in his fist. With his wand, he lit a roaring fire in the grate. Muttering a few choice curses, he threw the letter from his mother into the blaze. He hated the idea of a “family dinner.” He hated Pansy, too. Mostly, he hated the thought of sharing Friday with anyone other than Louisa. They didn’t know about her. And they never will, Draco thought.
He sat down in a deep leather chair, another drink already in his hand. He looked into the fire, thinking about how bifurcated his life had become. On the one hand, he was Draco Malfoy, son of the infamous Death-eater Lucius Malfoy. On the other, he was Draco Malfoy, father to the most amazing child in the world- at least in his opinion, he mused.
Inviting Pansy and her family to dinner could only mean a handful of things. He sighed, knowing his mother expected him to marry soon. She’d already hosted several such family dinners, inviting other potential pure-blooded witches. His thoughts lingered on her last sentence- What could Narcissa want now? he wondered. What is so important?
He went back to his desk to pour himself a third drink when he saw the second letter. This time, however, he did not cringe. Instead he felt a little jolt in his stomach. He recognized that neat blocky handwriting. Setting down his glass, he took the letter and walked back to his chair. Lazily, he unfolded the parchment, a small smile playing around his lips.
To my friend-in-need,
I know that a special day is coming up for you and your daughter. Please accept this gift and my wishes for your happiness.
As always, please let me know if there’s anything I may do to help with your situation.
Yours,
Hermione Granger
Attached to the letter were two tickets to the Grand Theatre’s Puppet Show. He smiled, knowing that Louisa would be thrilled to see the puppets. He felt comforted by Hermione’s thoughtfulness. It’d been a long time since he’d pondered about how his feelings for a certain muggle-born witch had changed. He walked back to his desk to compose a reply.
Dear Hermione,
Once again you have surprised me with your kindness. I shall tell my daughter of the generosity of her “benefactress” on her birthday.
Thank you for your offer of help. At the moment, things are going well. I believe that I will soon be able to take my daughter out of the home that you helped me to find. I only need to be sure that I can provide her with a safe and stable environment. Right now, that’s not an option, I’m afraid.
Oh, there is one thing. I would like to find a space, away from the wizarding world, of course, where she may play without checking her magical abilities. I guess I’d also like to be able to take her for a ride on my broomstick, too- she’d really like that! Can you think of a charm that would hide magic from muggle eyes? It’s just not safe for me to take her out of the muggle world, yet.
Sincerely,
Your friend-in-need
Folding the parchment, he addressed the letter to the woman he had despised and teased when they were back at Hogwarts. He felt his conscience prickle at some of the things he’d said and done to her. For the hundredth time, he wondered if she would’ve helped him if she’d known who he really was- and if she’d known who Louisa was.
No time for such thoughts, now. He attached the letter to his eagle owl’s leg. With a mighty hoot, the owl flew out the window. Absentmindedly humming to something on the wizarding wireless network, he poured a fourth drink and settled back into his chair. Allowing himself to sink into a bit of a stupor, he replayed some of the day’s highlights with Louisa in his head. Before passing out, he briefly wondered if other people were both incredibly happy and sad at the same time.