Chapter Text
April 1993
Draco bangs his fist on the table and gets up.
“Listen Lyra, if you’re not going to cooperate then I can’t stay at your tea party!”
Little grey eyes look at him imploringly.
“No!” he insists. “You can impose your dreadful lack of etiquette on the dolls, because I will tolerate it no longer! I’m going to sit with the grown-ups, where I belong!”
The little girl glares at him angrily and fumes. He has been trying to show her how to conduct a proper tea party for the past hour, but Lyra is hardly interested in his teachings. Draco wonders how it is possible that two people as calm and collected as Uncle Regulus and Aunt Josephine have produced such an undisciplined child. His grandmother thinks that little Lyra somehow takes after Aunt Bellatrix.
True to his word, he makes his way to the parlour, where the grown-ups are having a lively conversation. Apart from his parents and grandparents, there’s also Aunt Walburga and Uncle Regulus with a notoriously pregnant Aunt Josephine.
Aunt Bellatrix has stopped coming to these Sunday gatherings lately, and Draco cannot say that he misses her - she’s always very loud and terribly opinionated without good reason, and the only person sincerely enjoying her presence is Aunt Walburga.
The one currently speaking is his father, a cigar in his left hand and his right arm lightly draped around his wife. He seems distressed. “I simply cannot wrap my head around it. What was the school board thinking? Men like Remus Lupin should never be allowed near our children, let alone teach them!” Everyone is nodding in agreement, some more fervently than others. “I’ve even considered sending Draco off to some boarding school abroad. I have found this very respectable institute in northern Europe.”
His mother startles at that. “Lucius! What are you talking about? I am not sending my son so far away! Besides, our families have attended Hogwarts for generations, it’s almost like a second home to us. You will not send Draco abroad, I will not allow it!”
The expression on his father’s face softens. Draco knows that if there’s one thing the all-powerful Lucius Malfoy cannot resist, that is his wife’s will. “Of course, my darling.” He takes her hand and kisses it. “I would never act against your wishes. Forget I ever suggested that.”
“But, Lucius,” protests Aunt Walburga, “what about Lupin? Will you entrust people like him with Draco’s education?” Disgust is prevalent in her voice.
“Absolutely not. I will simply use my connections to let everybody know what he is - surely, the parents will eventually demand that he be sacked.”
“No.” It is Uncle Regulus who has spoken, and everyone turns to look at him in astonishment. He rarely ever objects to whatever is being discussed, usually just dipping biscuits in his tea and humming in agreement.
“Why not, Regulus dear?” asks Aunt Walburga. “I don’t suppose you endorse the appointment of Mr. Lupin as professor at Hogwarts, do you?”
“Of course not, mother. But, Lucius, think about it for a moment. You’re not the only parent with connections. What if someone else decides to investigate the matter a little further? What if they find out exactly who Mr. Lupin is living with? We’ve managed to keep Sirius and his… abnormality a secret for so long. You cannot risk revealing it and tarnishing the noble name of Black!”
They all seem to ponder it for a moment. Eventually, it is Draco’s mother that breaks the silence. “Regulus is right. We mustn’t meddle. If Mr. Lupin is keeping his personal life a secret and not allowing it to interfere with his teaching, I don’t think we have anything to fear.” Uncle Regulus is smiling gratefully at her, but she doesn’t see him. “I cannot bear another round of newspapers and magazines talking of a prodigal child in the House of Black. We’ve had enough of that,” she sighs and his father’s grip around her tightens in consolation.
Draco is not quite sure about who Mr. Lupin is and what he has done to provoke the rage of the Blacks, but he knows the man’s secret will be carefully guarded by his family, despite how much they would prefer the opposite.
“I used to think that kicking out that horrible child would be the end of our troubles, but it seems that I was wrong,” laments Aunt Walburga. “Sometimes I wish he had never been born.”
It doesn’t take long for Draco to find out the truth; he has known for years about the two Blacks burnt off the tapestry, Andromeda and Sirius. He has been told that Andromeda Black, his mother's sister, married someone the family disapproved of, and that's why they cut her off. But they had not explained Sirius’ case thus far.
However, the conversation he has overheard is now igniting his curiosity. After a while, he builds up the courage to ask about it; at first he figures that his mother is the safest choice, but then reconsiders; talking about disinherited family members tends to make her rather emotional.
He ends up asking his father, and the mystery is finally solved; the family disinherited Sirius because he was a homosexual . Draco is not quite sure what that means, but his father explains that Sirius was romantically involved with men instead of women, which of course was a behaviour not tolerated by the Blacks. He left them no choice but to cut him off completely, and none of them has ever contacted him again.
As for Remus Lupin, the newly appointed literature professor at Hogwarts, it seems that he is Sirius’ partner. And this gives the Blacks twice as much reason to disapprove of him, but also ties their hands; if they expose professor Lupin, they are exposing their own prodigal son. This is why they must keep his secret at all costs. This is why Draco must not tell anyone next year, when he goes off to Hogwarts.
The months leading up to it pass rather gloomily, with his mother in and out of the hospital once again - Draco knows what that means, although no one is willing to discuss it; another little brother or sister that he will never meet. He spends his days feeling quite lonely, with only his nanny to keep him company; and she doesn’t make for very nice company, truth be told, with her too tight collars and her too proper ways.
Almost as if to spite them, Uncle Regulus and Aunt Josephine welcome their second child, a baby boy whom they name Perseus. They call to tell them the news, and Draco overhears his mother weeping after hanging up the phone. He cries a little bit too - he has always wanted a sibling to play with, and it isn’t fair that Lyra gets one instead.
His only consolation is the afternoons he spends at the ballet school - the last ones, he knows, since he will be leaving for Hogwarts next year. And he has just now received his pointe shoes! It is a shame indeed that he will leave them behind before he gets a chance to break them in completely.
His mother has been dancing ever since he can remember himself. She would put classical pieces on the record player and pirouette around the house, holding him in her arms when he was younger, taking him by the hand when he first began to walk, leading him into the dance once he had full control of his feet.
Draco knows that she was a ballerina once - he has seen the photos she keeps in an album, and he has found the boxes with her old equipment; the pointe shoes, the leotards, the tutus, the costumes from her shows. His favourite one was the swan costume; he liked to caress the white feathers that gently tickled his fingers and imagine them twirling under the stage lights.
She smiled fondly when Draco announced that “he wanted to be a ballerina too,” and immediately took him to ballet classes. His father reacted at first, but all it took was a pleading look from his wife and he gave his permission.
The girls in the class were baffled by his presence at first, but never made fun of him - if anything, they admired him. Because from the very beginning, Draco has been exceptional. It takes very little practice for him to be able to perform the different movements and positions perfectly. And he loves every second of it; he finds freedom in the discipline, and sheer joy floods his chest when his feet drift away into the music.
For this year’s ballet show they are doing Peter Pan , and Draco has been assigned the part of John - although he would much rather have been Tinker Bell. Unfortunately, his mother is still bedridden and his father… Well, his father has never been interested in these shows anyway. It’s his loss , thinks Draco as he takes a graceful bow in the end and the audience cheers for him with enthusiasm, he will never know how good a dancer I am.
In the end, it is Uncle Regulus who has come to see him, and he gives him a large bouquet of white roses that exude a delightful scent. “I have taped the whole thing,” he says, handing him a tape recorder, “so that your mum can see you too. You were spectacular.” Draco’s heart swells with pride at that, and thoughts of his father lie in the corner, forgotten.
He plugs it into the large television in the master bedroom that night, and cuddles up against his mother as they watch the recording together, her fingers lightly stroking his hair. She hugs him tightly after that, and whispers into his ear how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and how terribly she is going to miss him, now that he’s leaving for Hogwarts. He is going to miss her too, of course, but the truth is he simply cannot wait to be gone from the Manor, even if it’s just for a few months; it feels like the air in there is limited, and he needs to get out in order to breathe.