All That You Leave Behind

Happy Halloween to all, especially those who reviewed. It was lovely to hear from so many of you! However, some of the people that our scolding was aimed at didn't review, and, therefore, we are going to stop sending update alerts to anyone who hasn't reviewed for a while. After all, it is very very irritating to send the emails out after every single chapter and receive nothing in return. If you're no longer interested in the story (!), that's not a problem, but for our sanity's sake, don't remain on our update list!

Tambrathegreat--You are special!


Domino--We're working on the spacing problem, but seriously, if that's all the criticism you have, we're not complaining!


Catona, Amiyom, Opy, WerewolfMistress, DarklessVasion, Magic, BlackNightshade7, and Anon (whoever you are), thank you very much for letting us know what you think and that you're reading.


FaeryQueen--as always, your review made us smile, and chuckle a bit to ourselves because, of course, we know what's going to happen!


SuzieGeorge--thank you very much for the compliment! However, if you could see us sitting here trying to write as much as possible before Q catches her plane back to Merry Olde England.....well, let's just say "goddesses" isn't the word that comes to mind! Nonetheless, we applaud the sentiment, so again, thank you.







Chapter 64




Lucius stood outside Draco's elegantly signposted studio and considered Narcissa's words. Of course he loved his son, but his way of showing it was different from that of other people's. It didn't mean he loved his son any less. In fact, he believed he cared more for his son than almost any other father did for their child. Still dwelling upon this, he opened the heavy wooden door and entered the airy, well-appointed area.


Draco was bent over a workbench and glanced up, the items in his hands held carefully. The welcome in his eyes vanished and a wary look replaced it. He sighed and put down the dried dragon's claw he had been shredding.


A silence stretched between them. The older man waited for some signal from his son that he was welcomed; the other man merely awaited the latest scheme or manipulation with a heavy heart.


Eventually, Lucius broke the silence. "Draco, I believe that perhaps I have been unfair in my treatment of you at times. It was treatment that seemed appropriate, given the circumstances, but, I now realise, was not conducive to our developing a healthy relationship."


His son stared at him in incredulous silence. Finally, he twisted his mouth into a fair approximation of the older wizard's sneer and commented, "You're right, father, bowing down to the dreaded Snake-Face did rather put a dampener on our relationship." He paused, but Lucius could see the younger wizard wasn't finished, "But," he went on, "that was your choice. You chose to pay more attention to a megalomaniac than to your only child. You can hardly expect that to be repaired with the attempt at an apology you just made."


Lucius felt hurt and angry. What Draco had said was true, which didn't improve his mood, but surely, surely the boy could see that Lucius was trying? And when Lucius had shown how much he loved Draco, all would be well.


He spoke smoothly, hiding the roiling emotions, "But naturally, Draco, I hardly expected anything less. In fact, anything less would have shown you were not worthy of your name."


Draco cut in, "I've had to fight to be accepted because of my name. So, right now, I'm not so thrilled about it!"


Lucius' jaw worked a little as he repressed fury that the Malfoy name was so reviled. "Rebuilding after what happened was always going to be difficult. I understand that. I also understand that you do not wish charity or support from me. But I assume trade will be undertaken?"


"Seeing as I've already charged you an obscene amount of money for that potion you wanted me to make for that dreadful little man, I would say that trade is most definitely welcomed with you, father, if you can afford my prices." Draco gave a cold smile as he thought about just how much he had charged his father for that one tiny bottle of potion.


"Indeed? Very well, I shall continue to do business with you, purely because I believe that you are an adequate potion's master." He turned his back on his son and began to browse the shelves of ready-made potions, his long cane swinging negligently from one hand.


Draco, not for one minute trusting his father's motives, returned to his task. Dragon's claw, especially this particular variety, was notoriously difficult to work with, and thus any potions containing it cost a premium. He therefore gave the ingredient his full attention, trusting that when the inevitable problem came, he would be prepared for it.


Lucius took his time looking at the items for sale. As potions took his fancy, he levitated them across to the counter before resuming his idle search. The shelves were not labelled with prices. The idea, as Lucius well understood, was to suggest that if you had to ask the price, you couldn't afford it. It therefore also suggested exclusivity, as only the most wealthy could afford the liquids. It had a final advantage: it allowed Draco to charge whatever he wished for each potion, as there was no price to contradict his demands.


At last, after nearly twenty minutes of looking, nearly a dozen potion bottles sat innocently on the table top. Each was labelled neatly in Draco's elegant script with their names and effects.


The younger man eyed the collection with interest. Disbelieving his father was second-nature to him, and although he did wonder what Lucius had planned, he pushed his reservations to the back of his mind. After all, this little pile would ensure a nice start to his child's life.


Lucius leant against the counter, fingers shifting the various items on display about. He idly picked up an item or two to examine, then returned them to almost their previous spots.


Draco fought down irritation. Even here, in Draco's domain, the other tried to control. That simple act of moving items so that they were displayed as Lucius thought they should be was just another in a long line of examples that proved his father did not trust or respect him.


In venegance, he decided that, instead of charging his father double, as he had been intending, he would charge triple. He picked up the potions, noting down his new prices, and wondered if he could discern his father's intent from the collection.


He looked over the bottles: Strengthening Solution, Hate Potion, Veritaserum, his strongest Confusing and Befuddlement Draught, Fire Protection Potion, Polyjuice Potion, Instant Darkness Powder, Shrinking Solution, Sleeping Draught, and Wit-Sharpening Potion. Mentally adding up the cost he smiled internally. If only he could work out just what his father intended with all those potions! He knew it would be something devious and under-hand, and would probably mean trouble for him if he didn't ascertain what Lucius intended soon enough.


Draco began packing the bottles into a container for delivery to the Manor, and asked sarcastically, "I assume all these potions are to help you rebuild then? Every...last...one...of them?"


"Of course, my dear son," Lucius drawled, "one can never be too careful, can one?"


"And you've always been so careful, haven't you, father?" Draco said nastily.


"Now, now, Draco," Lucius chided calmly, "Things will be different from what they were. We're different people now, and different times call for different approaches to different problems. After all, son, what would be the point in attempting to rebuild if things only stay the same?"


Draco paused, the bottle of Veritaserum in his hand, and considered the older wizard's words. After all, wasn't that what he was attempting to re-do? Rebuild his life after the disasterous events during the final battle, when so many mistakes had been made by his father, and, yes, although it hurt to admit it, by Draco himself too? Mulling over the comments made, Draco felt a twinge of pity for his parents. Lucius had deserved the humiliation he had received, but his mother did not. And if Lucius was aware that he needed to make amends, and restore his position, then, for his mother's sake, Draco wasn't about to stop him; but that didn't mean he wasn't going to do everything he could to protect his family.


He placed the last few bottles into the container, and nodded slightly to his father. He knew Lucius would understand that small gesture. After all, he was expert at reading people. Draco closed the package and smiled falsely up to the taller man. "I'll arrange for this to be delivered to the Manor," he said, before adding, "That'll be 50 galleons."


Lucius merely nodded, a slight smile upon his lips. "Of course, my dear son. I shall arrange for payment to reach you as a matter of expediancy."


He turned and stepped across the studio floor towards the door. Resting his hand on the wood he turned and said with pleasure, "Congratulations to you and Astoria on the impending arrival of my first grand-child." With that he opened the door and swept out of the shop, nodding and smiling at the other denizens of Diagon Alley.


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Oh, and by the way, today is the one year anniversary since we started writing this story, so wish us Happy Anniversary with pressies.....you know, reviews. Yes, they count as pressies! And we love them. So give us many. Yay!