I actually finished a fic!
Yep, that's right! Not a drabble or a ficlet. And honest to God full length fic! Love and thanks to kilcarr the fabulous for keeping me on the Brit Pick straight and narrow and to hpca for cheering me on. This one is a bit of a departure for me. It is a Draco fic...
Author: ladytonks
Title: A Proposal of Marriage
Rating: G
Genre: A little drama/a little funny
Word Count: 2,675
Summary: The Malfoys were always part of the Wizarding elite. After Voldemort's fall, things change...
“Bloody buggerin’ Hell!" moaned Draco Malfoy as he sat down on the half-destroyed bench in the overgrown back garden of his recent assignment. A small army of garden gnomes had ganged up on him and filched his wand. It took him a mortifying hour to steal it back during which time he received numerous bites and scratches from the vile little creatures.
Draco assessed his wounds and began the painful process of healing them. This was a tedious task since his wand was not cooperating with him. The stupid twig hadn't worked properly since St. Potter had returned it to him a few months ago. As the Ministry had seized the bulk of the Malfoys’ Gringott’s vault as part of their punishment for harboring the Dark Lord, there was no money for a new wand. Draco supposed he should be grateful, but the thought of being in debt to The Chosen One was just one more in a long list of grievances.
The loss of the family fortune had included Malfoy Manor. It was unceremoniously auctioned off for a paltry sum and was currently being demolished. According to the Daily Prophet, the property was to be converted into a 'tract of affordably priced Wizarding homes built with a host of modern Muggle conveniences including magically compatible high speed internet’ whatever that was. The dwellings were to be specifically designed to ‘appeal to the Muggle-born and half-blood population.’ Despite his pure-blood status, Arthur Weasley had been the first person to apply to live in the abomination.
Death Eaters hell-bent on finding anyone in the anti-Voldemort movement had destroyed the Weasleys’ home during the war. Draco’s family fortune was now being used to help restore homes like theirs. The labor for the rebuilding was currently being provided by those who 'aided and abetted' Tom Riddle. And that was how Draco found himself at the Burrow, attempting to outsmart garden pests. The Malfoys had been given the task of completing the cosmetic repairs to the house and property. Actual professional magical builders had finished the structural repairs the prior day.
Even though Arthur and his wife were moving into a new home, they, according to the Wizengamot, ‘deserved to have their residence restored to its former condition so that they might sell the property for a fair and equitable amount.’ Draco thought that after the house was repaired it would be worth many more Galleons than before it was destroyed. But that, as his probation officer Penelope Clearwater had said, was not the point.
He had originally volunteered to handle the outdoor repairs because he feigned an interest in Herbology. Indeed, he had received an Exceeds Expectations in his Herbology OWL and would likely receive the similar marks once his punishment was through and he was given permission to sit his NEWTS.
His actual reasons for volunteering were currently inside the Burrow. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were making pathetic attempts to repair and restore the house’s impossible interior. He couldn't stand to watch his mother, formerly a regal mistress of one of the most elegant homes in the country, reduced to tidying up the Weasleys’ pitiable excuse of a home. As for his father… the wizard who once commanded fear with a simple look of his steely gray eyes down his aristocratic nose had, in common terms, gone round the twist. Lucius was spending his time in the attic, having incoherent conversations with the ridiculously pajama clad, pox faced ghoul that resided there.
Draco sighed and stood up. It was time to continue. The faster he completed his task, the faster his family could return to their tiny flat above the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. The entire place could have fit into one of the Manor’s many closets. However, it was home now. Just as he was about to raise his wand, he heard his mother calling him in for tea.
He readied himself for weak Earl Grey and burnt biscuits. It wasn’t mum’s fault she had no domestic skills. No one in his family had so much as toasted a piece of bread in centuries. Draco walked slowly up the steps and into the kitchen of the Burrow. As his eyes adjusted to the gloomy light inside, he felt his stomach clench at the sight before him. His mother, once so fashionable, had donned a housedress that she had scavenged from Molly Weasley's castoffs. Despite Narcissa’s attempts to magically alter the garment, the dusty, multicolored rag hung off her shoulders and showed more leg than Draco thought decent. Still, she gestured to the outfit clearly hoping for a compliment.
"Mother, don't you look, er, well, that is, you make that dress look lovely," he said. For the most part, that was true. His mother was still a very lovely woman, despite her disheveled hair, broken nails and overall grubby appearance.
Narcissa beamed and gestured to the worn kitchen table that held, as Draco had expected, an inedible array of gastronomic disasters. Sitting down, he asked, "So, will Father be joining us?"
"Oh, yes. Let me summon the house elf to…" her face fell as it so often did when she made slips such as this. It was hard for Narcissa to accept her new status in society.
Draco rose to his feet and said, "Shall I fetch him then?"
Tears began to etch clean trails down his mother's face as she nodded. As Draco headed upstairs, he cringed as he heard her begin to sob.
Ascending the endless flights of stairs, Draco wondered how Molly Weasley could have possibly been so plump with all of the climbing up and down. He himself was woefully out of breath as he reached the former bedroom of Ron Weasley. Steeling himself, Draco puffed his way up the last flight of stairs that lead up to the attic. As he climbed, he heard his father's manic ramblings.
"…And so, I had said, 'Listen here, you can't possibly call tell me that those caldrons are solid gold. I mean there was a chip on the base that clearly shows…’ Ah, Draco! Alabaster here and I were just discussing the Great Caldron Scandal of 1985."
Spectacular. His father had decided to name the Weasley family ghoul.
"Father, I hate to interrupt, but Mother is ready to serve tea." Draco said.
"Oh, is it that time so soon? Well, Alabaster, we shall continue our discourse tomorrow," said Lucius regally as he swept out of the room and down the stairs.
Draco followed and soon found himself sitting on an uncomfortable chair, dipping a charred biscuit in lukewarm tea. As he started into his cup he realized his parents were uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, they talked animatedly over meals. His father would rant about whatever his momentary obsession was, whether it be preserving the Forbidden Forest or the availability of unicorn hairs. His mother kept up her end of the conversation by adamantly agreeing with anything father said.
After a few minutes, he felt his parents’ eyes on him and looked up.
"Draco, " Lucius began, "Your mother and I would like to speak to you about something of great and lasting importance to our family."
Draco glanced nervously at his mother to see her reaction to father’s sudden onset of lucidity only to find her nodding vigorously.
"Now that you are of age and therefore no longer in school, it is necessary for us to plan your future, “ said Lucius.
Narcissa said, "It is time to discuss your marital prospects."
Draco choked on his tea. Marriage?
"Mum, Father, I don't think that this is quite the right time for me to be thinking of marriage. I mean, I know that you had arranged my betrothal to Pansy at birth, but she probably…"
"No, no, no,” Lucius interrupted, “Pansy will no longer do! She is not half good enough for you now."
Draco was stunned. His parents had arranged his betrothal to Pansy on the day she was born. The pact had been sealed with an Unbreakable Vow. Now, suddenly, she wasn't good enough? More surprisingly, his father was contemplating death to break the arrangement?
"Draco," Narcissa began, "Your father and I have been in contact with the Parkinsons and they agree with us that much more advantageous alliances can be made."
"What about the Vow?" Draco asked. He wanted no part of seeing his parents die after both had managed to live through the wrong side of the war.
"Actually, that is just what we tell the betrothed. We don't actually perform the Vow," Narcissa admitted sheepishly.
"You mean to tell me that I was going to marry that pug-faced witch because I thought I was saving your lives? Do you honestly think I would have chosen her myself?"
"Well," said Lucius, "That is now far beyond the point. Onward, shall we? Your mother and I have selected some suitable candidates for you."
Draco was presented with a bit of parchment adored with his mother's perfect script and read the list. Draco read the list again. Then once more, just to be sure that his eyes were working properly. Then he realized at once that his parents must have been having him on. This list had to be a joke. He began to laugh. He stopped abruptly once he saw the serious looks on their faces.
"I don't understand. This list, these witches are, well, they are all…" Draco trailed off.
“Brilliant?” said Lucius.
"Beautiful?" said Narcissa.
"Buxom?" Lucius added.
Narcissa glared at her husband and Lucius shrugged apologetically.
"No, " Draco answered, "They are half-bloods, mudbloods and I am rather sure that this one is a half breed!"
His father drawled, "Language, Draco! There is a lady present."
"That sort of language is no longer safe!" Narcissa hissed.
"What in the Name of Slytherin?" Draco began.
His father cut in, “You just can't go around using the H or the M word anymore! Honestly, we raised you better than that!"
"Excuse me? Who gave me the 'Mudblood Voodoo Doll' for my 6th birthday?"
“That,” Narcissa said with disdain, “Was your godmother, Bellatrix, not us.”
“What about the Muggle-Hunting kit?”
“The boy never did have a proper sense of humor, Cissy, did he?” asked Lucius.
Draco muttered under his breath, “You took me to Stonehenge during tourist season to try it out.”
Lucius looked wildly around the room. It was his contention that the Ministry of Magic was magically monitoring all of the family’s conversations. Draco thought this was a load of dragon dung seeing as the Ministry was terribly understaffed at the moment and likely had more important things to do then listen in on this drivel.
Draco began, “Father, no one cares what we are saying…”
Narcissa, seeing that this conversation was going in the wrong direction, interceded, “Let us get back to the task at hand. Surely there must be at least one acceptable option on the list Draco.”
“Certainly! This one here,” he answered sarcastically as he pointed to a random name on the list, “We’ll make lovely babies together.”
"See, Cissy! I told you he would be delighted!” Lucius lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “So, son, who on the list has caught your fancy? That charming Granger girl, I bet. You know, I wager that you could be the one to steal her from Ronald Weasley."
Draco placed the parchment down on the table and rubbed his eyes. This. Was. Not. Happening. He needed to think of a way to stop this conversation now. After taking a few calming breathes, Draco gazed into his parents’ eager faces with what he hoped would pass for a respectful smile.
“Mother, Father. Why don’t we just finish up our work here today now? There will be plenty of time to discuss my marriage prospects.”
The senior Malfoys started to interrupt, but Draco raised his hands to silence them.
He continued, “Yes, I know you are worried about me missing out on a good match. But, I can always go into London and meet a nice Muggle girl. That would be the best match of all, don’t you agree?”
His parents looked at each other and both smiled. It seemed that Draco has managed to put off this absurd notion for the time being. Perhaps with luck it would never surface again.
Lucius went out to the back garden to get the opinion of the gnomes on his latest investment scheme as Draco and Narcissa completed the daily list of chores to present to Ministry monitor. Before long, the family was escorted back to their dingy flat. Their wands were confiscated, to be returned when they were assigned whatever tomorrow’s horrid community service project would be.
Once they settled in for the evening, Narcissa served lopsided chicken and ham sandwiches for dinner. Draco was too hungry to really notice that the chicken was rubbery and the bread was stale. While his parents retired to the tiny living area with glasses of third rate, watered down fire whiskey, Draco straightened up the kitchen and gathered up the rubbish.
He bundled up against the chilly autumn evening and headed outside to the community skips behind Gambol & Japes. Once the rubbish was disposed of, Draco turned around and headed back to the flat. There he would have a whiskey himself and retire early to bed.
Before he could take more than three steps, he heard a crash behind him followed by a female voice swearing softly. He turned around and was stunned to see one of the prettiest witches he had ever laid eyes on struggling to pick up the mess that burst from her oversized bin bag.
He rushed over to assist and the pair managed to deposit the clutter in the bin.
“Thanks ever so much,” the witch said.
Draco smiled, nodded and said, “Pleased to be of service. I’m Draco Malfoy.”
“I know. What I mean is - we were in Slytherin together. I was two years behind you at Hogwarts. I’m Astoria Greengrass. My family just moved into the flat over the second-hand robe shop.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood, Astoria. What vicious crime could you have possibly committed against wizarding kind to earn you a home in this esteemed locale? ”
Astoria giggled, “It was my mum, actually. She made dress robes for You Know Who. She was under the Imperius Curse. I told the Wizengamot but they didn’t believe…” Astoria trailed off.
“I understand,” said Draco. And, he really did. The Wizengamot had taken such a no tolerance attitude towards anyone who was remotely in contact with the Death Eaters. Mrs. Greengrass was probably perfectly innocent.
Draco asked, “So, what’s your family’s punishment”
“My dad is restoring Hogwarts. Since Mum’s a seamstress, we were allowed the flat as long as we mind the shop and do the alterations. I’m studying for my OWLS, when I’m not helping Mum out, that is.”
“Well, we live in the third floor flat over the menagerie. We’re sort of working off our debt to society by cleaning up the Dark…er… I mean, Voldemort’s mess in exchange for the lovely accommodations.” Draco joked.
It was nice to share an ordinary laugh with someone. Not that Astoria could be considered ordinary. How was it that he never noticed her at school? Two year’s behind wasn’t that much of a difference. Of course, Draco had been a bit busy during his last few years at Hogwarts with plotting to kill Dumbledore, keeping an eye on resistant students and such.
An awkward silence fell between the pair and Astoria finally said, “I’d better be getting back. Mum will be worried.”
“Can I see you home?” Draco asked on a whim. Something about her presence seemed to lift his burden a bit and he wasn’t eager to be parted from her just yet.
He saw her smile as she answered, “I’d like that.”
He offered his arm, she accepted and they walked in silence through the deserted alley. For the first time in forever, Draco felt hopeful.