And So it Begins Part 17
The world blurs.
At the sound of your incantation, you are sucked into that nether region of magic. The place where you are neither here nor there but somewhere amorphous and in between. You had forgotten how turbulent and violent a portkey trip can be. Especially a transcontinental one. The longer the distance, the stronger the pull. The air pressure in your ears builds to staggering proportions as the air flexes and bends around you. Taking on an almost physical presence on your skin. More like icy liquid than gas. You press your eyes closed as the swirl of existence around you makes you nauseous.
But never once do you lose awareness of the body next to you. Brian holds onto you for dear life. His arms quivering he holds you so tight. You do not look at him, but you can only imagine the bewilderment he must be feeling.
Your ears pop. The insistent whoosh of air around you begins to relax. And you recognize the gradual slowing that accompanies the end of a portkey trip. You know you must be close.
So you chance opening your eyes and in the distance, not more than half a kilometer off but feeling a lifetime away, you see the various capes and turrets of the Malfoy Manor. The stunning white limestone façade glowing against a predawn sky. Soft exterior lights line the drive. There is life inside this place, even if it now sleeps.
I’m home, you think and unwittingly you pull Brian even closer.
But then something happens that you did not anticipate. Something you should have anticipated if you had been thinking logically before you activated the portkey. Which of course, you hadn’t been.
The many wards and protective spells that guard your family’s estate from both wizards and Muggles alike kick in. They identify you, but not the man shamelessly attached to you and the force of their magic begins to tear you apart.
You are ripped from Brian’s arms as the Manor’s magic, recognizing you as the Lord and heir, welcomes you home. While at the same time, identifying Brian not only as a muggle but as a stranger, forces him in the other direction. You manage to grab onto his forearm before you are completely separated, digging you fingers into his flesh as deep as they will go. He clutches your arm with both his hands, mouth open in a silent scream.
In this moment of terror, you find yourself wondering if this is how you looked up at Potter when he pulled you from the Fienfyre. Had your eyes been so wide that he saw more white than color? Had you looked at that bespectacled git with this much tumultuous fear? And with the absolute faith that he would save you?
You focus your attention back to the present and to Brian. Shouting to him, over the fiery crackle of the wards and residual woosh of the portkey, to hold on. You don’t know if he hears you, but his grip does not falter.
Eventually the pull of your inheritance is too much for the wards to resist and you and man you refuse to let go of are sucked inside the Manor’s protective walls. Dumped, unceremoniously on the front lawn.
You land with a loud oomph and hear Brian’s body land a few meters away seconds later.
With out even stopping to make sure you are uninjured, you jump up and run in the direction of Brian. Casting a quick Lumos as you do. In the soft, blue-white light of your wand you see him. On his back, legs splayed in dangerous angles, lying impossibly still.
Your chest goes ice cold and you would swear your heart stops beating.
“No,” You rasp, collapsing next to him. “No this is not happening. Brian? Brian…please, no…” You gather him up in your arms. He is limp and heavy. Still warm but desperately pale. And you only stop your overwrought litany of denials and pleas, when you feel his hot breath against your neck. Shallow and fast, but there.
“He is only stunned.”
You nearly jump at the sound of the voice. Seeming so loud in the soft early-morning darkness. The voice itself however, coats you like a soft blanket and if there were not tears already in your eyes, there are now.
You can only stare dumbly as, in a matter of seconds, Narcissa Malfoy absorbs the situation and goes into action. She drops down across from you, pushing her long summer-weight dressing gown out of the way with a gentle sweep so she can kneel next to Brian. She presses a calm hand to his chest, then runs her long fingers over his cheek.
“Yes, it is only a standard stunner charm. Just a precautionary measure of the wards. If a muggle is some how able to get through, they are stunned until they can be dealt with properly.” She eyes you and your arms around Brian. “I assume this man is no enemy of yours?”
You give her a jerky shake of your head, unable to speak. Her lips flirt with the idea of a smile before she continues.
“Alright. Quimbly!” Instantly, a short, wrinkled house-elf is by her side, bowing low to the ground, awaiting her order. “I want you to take Mister…?” She trails off, awaiting your answer.
“Kinney.” You burst out quickly. “His name is Brian Kinney.”
“Very well." She levels a calm gaze at you, willing you to get a hold of yourself. And her eyes, a beautiful cobalt blue outlined with a hint of lavender, calm you.
Even in the darkest part of the war, she was your family’s strength. She would look at you, with her solid gaze, and make unspoken promises for your safety. Beyond the Unbreakable Vow, beyond her ultimate status as a turncoat, it was always her eyes that anchored you. That gave you hope.
Perhaps that is why her deterioration after the war ended had been so impossible to bare. To watch those steadfast eyes falter. To be helpless when her constant and logical mind became muddled by hysterical notions and irrational panic. When you had left her, she had been a weak and fearful woman. Nothing like the mother you had known for your entire life. And nothing like the woman sitting before you now.
The eyes that look at you are filled with that familiar consistency. That same conviction, inherited from the Black’s and confirmed by her Malfoy marriage. Returned to their former glory, even as they fill with relief and love.
"Please take Mister Kinney up to the guest suite in the East wing. Put him in a clean nightshirt and make sure there are ample cooling charms cast on the rooms. And,” She lifts one finger and the elf pauses once more. “Place some pain potion next to the bed with some water. This poor fellow is going to wake up one monster of a headache.”
The elf nods and with a light touch to Brian’s shin and a snap of his fingers the pair are gone. Whisked off to some far corner of the manor.
This leaves you, sitting across from your mother. Your mind numb. Your clothes wet from sitting on the grass, damp with morning dew. Your stomach is still mildly nauseated and tight. Your eyes burn from too many tears.
“Well my darling, you certainly do know how to make an entrance.” Her voice is light. Crystalline. “You had the wards going off like I’ve never heard them before. Must have given them quite the fight.”
“So the wards scream bloody murder at 4 in the morning and you come running? How does that make any sense? It could have been an assassin, a rapist, a fucking werewolf!”
“Language.” She snaps in motherly fashion. A tone clearly not lost by the years apart of your progressing age. “Besides,” She continues softly. “I knew it was you.”
She reaches out her fingers. Ghosting them over the skin of your jaw. As if needing to feel you. To test your realness.
In the rush of the moment with Brian, the two of you had almost forgotten...
It has been two years. Two years and a completely different life and yet here I am. Home. That time apart means nothing because I am here and she is here and...
The reality of the situation hits you both at the same time.
You throw yourself across the small space Brian had occupied and into your mother’s waiting arms. She cradles you close, rocking you back and forth gently in that instinctual way.
“My darling, Draco. Is it really you? Have you really come back to me?” You feel kisses pepper the crown of your head.
“I’m here, mum.”
“God, Draco, I didn’t know where you were. If you were alive. I had no way to find you. Even the Aurors didn’t know where to start looking"
"I'm alright. I've been safe."
"But I knew tonight. As soon as I heard the wards…somehow I just knew it had to be you.”
You clutch at her back. Uncaring about how young and foolish you might look, sobbing gently into your mother’s robes. It has been one hell of an evening. Confessing your love to Brian. Attempting to tell him about who you are. Traveling half way across the world with him by your side only to think, for an eternity of a moment, that you had lost him forever. And now the tearful reunion with your mother.
You do not know how much more you can take.
Soon your sobs turn to surprised laughs and your tears turn to giddy smiles. She looks brilliant and healthy, the smile making her all the more radiant.
She pushes you away, keeping her hands on your shoulders and gives you an appraising look. “You’ve gotten thin.” She concludes.
“You’re such a mother.” You wipe at your nose.
“Old habits die hard, my love.” She smiles softly and sniffles. Of course she manages to sound elegant when she does this instead of indecent. “So, tell me about this muggle you’ve dragged along with you. This…Brian.”
You look down at your hands. “He’s a good man, mum. He’s been there for me.” Then you lift your eyes to meet hers. “I love him. Very much.”
Narcissa tilts her head to the side in that manor that parents have perfected over the eons. One that, all at once, expresses mild disappointment and worry and wonder at how this child of theirs could have grown up so fast.
She sighs, long and slow and soft. "Oh dear. What would your father say if he were still here?"
In this private moment of reunification, you do not want to be intruded upon by memories of Lucius. Not the fate he forced upon you. Not the turmoil he put your mother through. No matter how much he might have loved you and your mother, that love had been desperately misplaced and misdirected and had dragged your family down a terrifying path. And that, to you, is unforgivable. You feel your spine tingle as you jut your chin out defiantly.
"You'll forgive me, mother, if I don't give a rat's ass what father would think. If Brian has taught me anything, it is that my life need not be dictated by the legacy of him."
Her lips turn up softly. Proudly. If not a little surprised. "Well put, Draco." She stands gracefully then offers you a hand. "It would seem you've found yourself a smart muggle, in addition to a lovely one."
At the sound of your incantation, you are sucked into that nether region of magic. The place where you are neither here nor there but somewhere amorphous and in between. You had forgotten how turbulent and violent a portkey trip can be. Especially a transcontinental one. The longer the distance, the stronger the pull. The air pressure in your ears builds to staggering proportions as the air flexes and bends around you. Taking on an almost physical presence on your skin. More like icy liquid than gas. You press your eyes closed as the swirl of existence around you makes you nauseous.
But never once do you lose awareness of the body next to you. Brian holds onto you for dear life. His arms quivering he holds you so tight. You do not look at him, but you can only imagine the bewilderment he must be feeling.
Your ears pop. The insistent whoosh of air around you begins to relax. And you recognize the gradual slowing that accompanies the end of a portkey trip. You know you must be close.
So you chance opening your eyes and in the distance, not more than half a kilometer off but feeling a lifetime away, you see the various capes and turrets of the Malfoy Manor. The stunning white limestone façade glowing against a predawn sky. Soft exterior lights line the drive. There is life inside this place, even if it now sleeps.
I’m home, you think and unwittingly you pull Brian even closer.
But then something happens that you did not anticipate. Something you should have anticipated if you had been thinking logically before you activated the portkey. Which of course, you hadn’t been.
The many wards and protective spells that guard your family’s estate from both wizards and Muggles alike kick in. They identify you, but not the man shamelessly attached to you and the force of their magic begins to tear you apart.
You are ripped from Brian’s arms as the Manor’s magic, recognizing you as the Lord and heir, welcomes you home. While at the same time, identifying Brian not only as a muggle but as a stranger, forces him in the other direction. You manage to grab onto his forearm before you are completely separated, digging you fingers into his flesh as deep as they will go. He clutches your arm with both his hands, mouth open in a silent scream.
In this moment of terror, you find yourself wondering if this is how you looked up at Potter when he pulled you from the Fienfyre. Had your eyes been so wide that he saw more white than color? Had you looked at that bespectacled git with this much tumultuous fear? And with the absolute faith that he would save you?
You focus your attention back to the present and to Brian. Shouting to him, over the fiery crackle of the wards and residual woosh of the portkey, to hold on. You don’t know if he hears you, but his grip does not falter.
Eventually the pull of your inheritance is too much for the wards to resist and you and man you refuse to let go of are sucked inside the Manor’s protective walls. Dumped, unceremoniously on the front lawn.
You land with a loud oomph and hear Brian’s body land a few meters away seconds later.
With out even stopping to make sure you are uninjured, you jump up and run in the direction of Brian. Casting a quick Lumos as you do. In the soft, blue-white light of your wand you see him. On his back, legs splayed in dangerous angles, lying impossibly still.
Your chest goes ice cold and you would swear your heart stops beating.
“No,” You rasp, collapsing next to him. “No this is not happening. Brian? Brian…please, no…” You gather him up in your arms. He is limp and heavy. Still warm but desperately pale. And you only stop your overwrought litany of denials and pleas, when you feel his hot breath against your neck. Shallow and fast, but there.
“He is only stunned.”
You nearly jump at the sound of the voice. Seeming so loud in the soft early-morning darkness. The voice itself however, coats you like a soft blanket and if there were not tears already in your eyes, there are now.
You can only stare dumbly as, in a matter of seconds, Narcissa Malfoy absorbs the situation and goes into action. She drops down across from you, pushing her long summer-weight dressing gown out of the way with a gentle sweep so she can kneel next to Brian. She presses a calm hand to his chest, then runs her long fingers over his cheek.
“Yes, it is only a standard stunner charm. Just a precautionary measure of the wards. If a muggle is some how able to get through, they are stunned until they can be dealt with properly.” She eyes you and your arms around Brian. “I assume this man is no enemy of yours?”
You give her a jerky shake of your head, unable to speak. Her lips flirt with the idea of a smile before she continues.
“Alright. Quimbly!” Instantly, a short, wrinkled house-elf is by her side, bowing low to the ground, awaiting her order. “I want you to take Mister…?” She trails off, awaiting your answer.
“Kinney.” You burst out quickly. “His name is Brian Kinney.”
“Very well." She levels a calm gaze at you, willing you to get a hold of yourself. And her eyes, a beautiful cobalt blue outlined with a hint of lavender, calm you.
Even in the darkest part of the war, she was your family’s strength. She would look at you, with her solid gaze, and make unspoken promises for your safety. Beyond the Unbreakable Vow, beyond her ultimate status as a turncoat, it was always her eyes that anchored you. That gave you hope.
Perhaps that is why her deterioration after the war ended had been so impossible to bare. To watch those steadfast eyes falter. To be helpless when her constant and logical mind became muddled by hysterical notions and irrational panic. When you had left her, she had been a weak and fearful woman. Nothing like the mother you had known for your entire life. And nothing like the woman sitting before you now.
The eyes that look at you are filled with that familiar consistency. That same conviction, inherited from the Black’s and confirmed by her Malfoy marriage. Returned to their former glory, even as they fill with relief and love.
"Please take Mister Kinney up to the guest suite in the East wing. Put him in a clean nightshirt and make sure there are ample cooling charms cast on the rooms. And,” She lifts one finger and the elf pauses once more. “Place some pain potion next to the bed with some water. This poor fellow is going to wake up one monster of a headache.”
The elf nods and with a light touch to Brian’s shin and a snap of his fingers the pair are gone. Whisked off to some far corner of the manor.
This leaves you, sitting across from your mother. Your mind numb. Your clothes wet from sitting on the grass, damp with morning dew. Your stomach is still mildly nauseated and tight. Your eyes burn from too many tears.
“Well my darling, you certainly do know how to make an entrance.” Her voice is light. Crystalline. “You had the wards going off like I’ve never heard them before. Must have given them quite the fight.”
“So the wards scream bloody murder at 4 in the morning and you come running? How does that make any sense? It could have been an assassin, a rapist, a fucking werewolf!”
“Language.” She snaps in motherly fashion. A tone clearly not lost by the years apart of your progressing age. “Besides,” She continues softly. “I knew it was you.”
She reaches out her fingers. Ghosting them over the skin of your jaw. As if needing to feel you. To test your realness.
In the rush of the moment with Brian, the two of you had almost forgotten...
It has been two years. Two years and a completely different life and yet here I am. Home. That time apart means nothing because I am here and she is here and...
The reality of the situation hits you both at the same time.
You throw yourself across the small space Brian had occupied and into your mother’s waiting arms. She cradles you close, rocking you back and forth gently in that instinctual way.
“My darling, Draco. Is it really you? Have you really come back to me?” You feel kisses pepper the crown of your head.
“I’m here, mum.”
“God, Draco, I didn’t know where you were. If you were alive. I had no way to find you. Even the Aurors didn’t know where to start looking"
"I'm alright. I've been safe."
"But I knew tonight. As soon as I heard the wards…somehow I just knew it had to be you.”
You clutch at her back. Uncaring about how young and foolish you might look, sobbing gently into your mother’s robes. It has been one hell of an evening. Confessing your love to Brian. Attempting to tell him about who you are. Traveling half way across the world with him by your side only to think, for an eternity of a moment, that you had lost him forever. And now the tearful reunion with your mother.
You do not know how much more you can take.
Soon your sobs turn to surprised laughs and your tears turn to giddy smiles. She looks brilliant and healthy, the smile making her all the more radiant.
She pushes you away, keeping her hands on your shoulders and gives you an appraising look. “You’ve gotten thin.” She concludes.
“You’re such a mother.” You wipe at your nose.
“Old habits die hard, my love.” She smiles softly and sniffles. Of course she manages to sound elegant when she does this instead of indecent. “So, tell me about this muggle you’ve dragged along with you. This…Brian.”
You look down at your hands. “He’s a good man, mum. He’s been there for me.” Then you lift your eyes to meet hers. “I love him. Very much.”
Narcissa tilts her head to the side in that manor that parents have perfected over the eons. One that, all at once, expresses mild disappointment and worry and wonder at how this child of theirs could have grown up so fast.
She sighs, long and slow and soft. "Oh dear. What would your father say if he were still here?"
In this private moment of reunification, you do not want to be intruded upon by memories of Lucius. Not the fate he forced upon you. Not the turmoil he put your mother through. No matter how much he might have loved you and your mother, that love had been desperately misplaced and misdirected and had dragged your family down a terrifying path. And that, to you, is unforgivable. You feel your spine tingle as you jut your chin out defiantly.
"You'll forgive me, mother, if I don't give a rat's ass what father would think. If Brian has taught me anything, it is that my life need not be dictated by the legacy of him."
Her lips turn up softly. Proudly. If not a little surprised. "Well put, Draco." She stands gracefully then offers you a hand. "It would seem you've found yourself a smart muggle, in addition to a lovely one."