Be Careful
22: Where You Call Home
By Anne B. Walsh
Hermione Beauvoi swung up into her favorite climbing tree, letting the joy which swelled inside her find full freedom in the clasp and pull of branches under her hands.
Today I am a woman, a witch full-grown, ready to find my place in the world or make it as I will. Today my brother is a man, and will take up the duties of Heir to a wizarding house. Today the Beauvois return to Fidelus Manor, cleansed of evil and welcoming its masters home.
And today might be special for yet another reason. She would know in just… a few… more… seconds…
Her head topped the windowsill of what had once been the blue guest room and was now a permanent bedroom for one who was only sometimes present.
It looks like today is officially ‘sometimes’.
Hermione smiled and climbed one branch higher, preparing for her grand entrance.
Draco came awake all at once.
Did it work? Did I make it?
He sat up, watching the sunlight play along the wall that included the closed door. At least I know there’s no dementors around. Except there’s a funny shadow—what is that—
"You came!" cried a girl’s voice. "I’d so hoped you could!"
Draco spun. Hermione sat on the windowsill, dressed in blue and silver, her face bright with welcome.
"I’d hoped so too," he said, letting his smile match hers, though he had to fight to keep it from turning into an idiotic grin. "What are you doing over there?"
"This is how I came in." Hermione dropped lightly to the floor, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Up the tree and through the window."
"You can climb trees in those robes?"
"I can climb trees in anything, thank you very much."
"You’re quite welcome." Draco bowed, and Hermione laughed and curtsied. "So where’s everyone else?"
"Downstairs. Father and Mother are checking the Manor-core, making sure the dementors didn’t damage it. They shouldn’t have been able to, but…"
"They shouldn’t have been able to break your wards, either," Draco finished, offering Hermione his arm. The gesture felt natural, which some part of him found alarming, but he’d had etiquette lessons since he was a child, so why should it be bothersome that he was putting them into practice?
Maybe because of who she is, or looks like. Still, in this world her blood’s pure enough I doubt even Lucius could take umbrage. Unless her mother…
You know what? I don’t care. Draco opened the door and stepped out into the hall with Hermione. I cared back home because I was expected to care. Now I’m not. So I don’t.
But there are still some things I do care about.
"Will you excuse me a minute?" he asked Hermione. "I slept in these robes, and wore them most of the day before that, and this is obviously a big deal, so I’d rather look my best."
"Of course. It’s going to take nearly an hour for everyone to arrive, so there’s no rush. But we wouldn’t start without you in any case." Hermione pressed his hand, smiling at him again. "I’ll see you downstairs. Thank you again for coming."
"Thank you for having me." As he watched her dance away down the hall, Draco recalled other times he’d heard and spoken those words, and the boredom or hostility they had veiled.
What is it about these people that lets them be so real?
He went back into his room, pondering it. The dress robes he’d worn to Luna’s ball were still at Malfoy Manor, since he’d worn them when he’d traveled back from Hogwarts, but a clean set of day robes should do.
Hope Mum gets here soon. I’ve missed her.
Thoughts of her made him smile. Laughing at some joke he’d told, explaining things his yearmates took for granted…
Nearly getting Kissed by a dementor.
Chills ran up and down his spine as he opened the wardrobe and took out one of the neatly pressed robes hanging within.
Maybe that’s the answer, or part of it. You don’t have time to think up stupid reasons to hate each other when there’s a real enemy trying to do worse than kill you.
Does that mean if they get rid of the dementors, they’ll become more like us? Caring about things like how pure your blood is, where you come from, what House you’re in?
Draco shut the wardrobe door and checked himself over in the mirror. "They can’t," he said to his reflection. "They’re past all that now. They know better. Right?"
His reflection looked skeptical.
Enough heavy thoughts. This is a day to be happy. I’m back, and there’s going to be a party, and I get to see Ray and Neenie come of age.
And if what I suspect is true, there might be something in it I can use.
Draco shut his bedroom door and trotted down the hallway to the bathroom.
Voldemort hurt me. Humiliated me. So did Lucius. And a lot of the others, but those two are the worst.
No one does that to me and gets away with it.
No one.
As soon as the carpet had gone into hover, Abby was off the side and running for the door.
"Abby!" Cousin Dora called after her, but Abby wasn’t listening. She had to know if her Sight had lied to her. It almost never did, but sometimes she Saw two things happening at once, and she had to figure out what to do to make the good vision happen and the bad one go away.
And sometimes I think I did the right thing, and it turns out I didn’t. Usually it’s not a big bad thing that happens—well, all right, it’s never been a big bad thing that happens. Yet. But this time what I Saw was really big and bad, and I had to make sure it wouldn’t happen.
Her feet flew down the second-floor hallway—she was at the door, pulling it open—
The bed was empty.
Abby put her hand over her mouth to stop a squeak of dismay from getting out. It doesn’t mean the bad thing happened, she tried to remind herself. I told Father and Mother about my Seeing, and they told all the right people who could do something about it, and that means the bad thing can’t have happened.
But her thoughts sounded pale and flat, even to her. She was too old now to pretend that just because the grownups knew about a bad thing, that meant they could automatically stop it. People couldn’t fix everything. Some things had too much weight behind them, too much force of ‘what should happen’, for anyone to stop them.
But what I Saw… that can’t be meant to happen, it can’t be! And Cousin Tom—Professor Riddle, I have to remember to start calling him that now that I’m going to be at Hogwarts—Professor Riddle promised that he would do the spell right away, to be sure—
"Looking for something?" asked a teasing voice from behind her.
Abby shrieked and spun around. "Ray! Don’t do that to—"
"Ray?" Draco folded his arms, scowling at her. "I think I’m insulted."
"Draco!" Abby seized him in a hug, and he hugged her back, freeing one hand after a moment to muss up her hair. "Stop that!" She pretended to snap at his wrist, and he pulled it out of the way, laughing. "When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago. Neenie came in my window to say hello, but other than her, you’re the first person I’ve seen."
Abby nodded. "Jonathan and Dragon Charlie and Nicki are up on the carpet with big Charlie and Cousin Dora. And Mother and Father and Ray are already here; they came with Neenie and the rest of the grownups early this morning to make sure the dementors were gone. They don’t usually stay in a house long after the people leave." She took Draco’s hand and started leading him towards the stairs. "Only family’s allowed to be at the actual coming-of-age, the magic won’t accept anyone else, but everyone comes to the party afterwards, and now that we’re sure the house is safe again we can open up the Floo, so that’s how all our friends will be coming… Draco, what’s wrong?"
"Nothing." Draco slid his hand out of hers, showing her a forced smile. "You go on. I’ll find something to do until the party starts."
"What are you talking about?"
Draco sighed. "Abby, you said only family gets to see the coming-of-age ceremony."
"Yes."
"I’m not family." Judging by the look on his face, the words had hurt him to say. "I don’t know quite what I am, but family isn’t it. I wish I could be there, but you said there’s magic and…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I can be here for the day. Come to the party and see everyone. But that’s all."
Abby tilted her head, thinking. It was true that Draco wasn’t related to them in any usual sense of the word, but if what Mother had told her was true, his blood had started out the same as theirs, only very far back.
Almost as far as Cousin Tom. And he’ll be here. He promised.
So the only reason Draco couldn’t come is because he thinks he can’t.
A thought came to Abby, and she smiled. "Why don’t we ask the magic if you can come?" she suggested.
"Ask—what?"
"Ask the magic. Go downstairs to the core and see if it will let you come inside the room. If it will, that means it recognizes you. That it thinks you’re family. And then you could come after all."
"I don’t know." Draco glanced over his shoulder at the sounds of people descending the stairs from the roof. "What if it doesn’t like me?"
"It won’t hurt you. It’ll just stop you coming in. That’s all it does to people who aren’t family, make a shield across the door so they can’t get in. It’s where we would go if we didn’t have time to get away from dementors, because even they couldn’t get past those shields, especially not with all of us in the room to help make them stronger." She held out her hand to him again. "So, do you want to see it or not?"
Draco hesitated for a long moment, then put his hand in hers again. Abby grinned at him and squeezed tight before starting off.
The Manor’s magic would let Draco in. She’d make sure of it.
Knowing Fidelus Manor was a real place made a difference, Draco found. Every difference between it and Malfoy Manor grated on his nerves. But, then, so did every similarity…
Make up your mind.
He snorted quietly at the acerbic tone of his inner scold.
I suppose I want it to be more alike because then it feels more real to me. But I also want it to be more different because I want to keep the worlds separate in my mind. I don’t want this place to lose everything that makes it different. That makes it better than home.
The word sent his thoughts in a different direction. He barely noticed Abby leading him through a small door in the entrance hall.
Where is my home now? Where do I belong?
I was born at Malfoy Manor, just like my ancestors for however many generations Lucius is claiming for us now. I spend most of my time at Hogwarts these days, but I never doubted the Manor was my home.
Until now.
Until this.
He reached out with his free hand to trail it along the stone of the passage walls, finding comfort in the familiar roughness.
Lucius isn’t my father anymore. Narcissa… she tries, but she’s a few twigs short of a broom when it comes to being a mother. She certainly doesn’t come up to Mum’s standard. I don’t know if I want to disown her completely, but she’d never be more than a distant aunt or cousin if reality matched the way I feel about things.
As for friends, the only ones I have are here. Which is pitiful, considering I’ve been here for a grand total of a week.
Abby looked over her shoulder with her flashing smile, which Draco returned.
But everyone here has made me feel welcome. Made me feel at home.
They turned into a small side room.
I think this is my home now.
If the magic will let it be.
"Draco, Abby, there you are," said Moony, stepping out from behind a large, glowing stone pillar.
Glowing?
Draco looked again. The pillar was, indeed, shedding a silvery light.
Is that…?
"Excellent, this means we only have to wait for the littlest ones." Moony waved them closer. "Come get to know the Manor’s magic, Draco. It’s been curious about you."
The magic. Of a house. Is curious about me.
Well, I suppose it means this is definitely my home now.
I could wish it was a little less insane, but then it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun…