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Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day of august, and Vincent and he had been invited to play with their friend at the Malfoy Manor.

The trio had taken their brooms and headed towards the gardens to fly together. It was their favourite activity to do together ever since Draco, who was the youngest, had turned 6 in June, finally of age to let go of the baby broom -which only went up to a meter in the air- and go along with them. Gregory and Vincent both having early-year birthdays -Vincent on January 8 and Gregory on February 29, Draco had begged his parents to let him go a little earlier.

But his usually-convincing puppy eyes didn’t seem to move his father and mother, and no matter how many tantrums he threw, or how much he cried and yelled, his parents wouldn’t bulge. After a while, tired at how suggesting other games they could play instead -Draco had more toys than any other child Gregory had ever known- Lucius lost his temper and called him a spoiled brat, ordering his son to go to his room. After that, Gregory and Vincent avoided talking about flying in front of him, because it always made the blonde boy sulky and cutting.

Gregory enjoyed his visits at the Malfoys immensely.

As per usual, their bellies were full with the delicious meal the house-elf had concocted - a salade niçoise, an authentic coq au vin, a variety of smelly french cheese, and mousse au chocolat for dessert. Although he wasn’t hungry due to the very large meal he had just eaten, Gregory was already salivating just imagining what type of pie or cake they would be granted for the afternoon tea.

As per usual, they made a detour to avoid Lucius’ beloved peacock, who seemed to enjoy scaring the children by running after them aggressively, and had once left a tiny scar on Draco’s left hand when the boy had tried petting him.

As per usual, Draco made jokes that had Gregory and Vincent doubled over with laughter.

And as per usual, Gregory couldn’t stop himself from staring at Draco, whose eyes were the color of rain-filled clouds and whose platinum blonde hair was swept by the wind. The light created a halo around him, making him look like an angel. His usually paper white skin had tanned a bit during the summer and a few freckles had appeared on his nose.

When Draco turned to him, his grin revealing his missing baby teeth, Gregory smiled brightly in return and couldn’t help imagining the three of them as old men with wrinkles, having a similar day, still as close and happy as they were now.

Chapter Text

The light of the morning sun poured in Draco’s room, giving his hair a shiny glow as he checked himself out. His fingers, ornamented with gemstone rings, were adjusting the velvet hanging sleeves of his robes.

“The amethyst shade really brings out the color of your eyes”, cooed the magical mirror. Draco’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.

“It really does. I’ll have to bully Father into buying me more garments of this color.”, he agreed while he put on his matching hair slide.

As a child, he didn’t often have the occasion to wear robes and mostly wore tunics. But today wasn’t an ordinary day.

Indeed, it was June 21rst, 1989. And in the Wizarding World, the Summer Solstice was a huge celebration.

Every year, Draco and his family, with a small group composed of their closest friends and their children, would go together to Stonehenge.

“See darling,” Father had told him a few years before, “this is the best location to celebrate, as it is perfectly aligned with the solstice sun. Our ancestors have been coming to these sacred grounds for millennia, and as Malfoys, we have the privilege to have this place for ourselves -and whoever we find suit to bring with us- on this special day. Many wizarding families have to celebrate on grounds that hold less power for lack of money, so their magic and fortunes are less fortified when they execute the rituals. Of course, even worse than that,” he said as his nose scrunched in disgust, “some families like the Weasleys dishonor their heritage by discontinuing the traditions of our ancestors, preferring to lower themselves by acting like Muggles instead of having pride in their pureblood heritage.”

For some reason, this memory had stuck to him.

He remembered that, from his place on Father’s shoulders, he could see never-ending green fields and the gigantic rocks standing still and tall, while everyone was smiling brightly and greeting each other.

He remembered looking up at the misty grey skies and gazing at the raindrops rolling off the invisible umbrella charm that his Father had cast.

Most of all, he remembered feeling very proud to belong to such an important family, and the warmth he felt in his heart as his head rested on his father’s blonde hair and as his arms were around his neck, one that shouldn’t have made sense, due to the cold weather, yet persisted through the years whenever he recalled that memory.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called.

“Master Draco”, repeated Dobby, “Mister and Mistress Malfoy is calling you because it is time to leave for the solstice.”

As the house-elf was speaking, Mirzam entered his bedroom, putting mud everywhere with her dirty paws. Dobby clutched his ears in despair : he was the one who would get blamed for it if Draco’s parents noticed the dirty floors before he cleaned them. So he snapped his fingers to make the paw prints disappear, all while trying to ignore the crup barking at him, giving her side looks with his big bulging eyes.

Draco was clutching his stomach in laughter instead of putting on his dragon-leather boots, watching Mirzam chase Dobby to try and bite his tail while barking at him. As far as he remembered, the dynamic between these two had always been the same.

He had gotten his crup as a gift for his 6th birthday. He initially wanted to name her Sirius, but Mother’s eyes went wide as he said so, and she had been the one to suggest the name Mirzam instead, as it was another star from the Canis Major. Draco had wanted to argue that Sirius was better because it was the brightest star of the constellation, but closed his mouth when Father shook his head with a hard look in his eyes and his hand on Mother’s shoulder.

Of course, now that he was older, he knew why.

His parents had explained to him what a blood-traitor was and how Sirius -who he learned during that discussion was Mother’s cousin- had not only abandoned his family and duties, but also betrayed the family that took him in : he had given their location to the Dark Lord so he could come and kill them, and he was now rotting in Azkaban for his crimes.

This story had had Draco’s blood turn to ice, as he had imagined Gregory, Crabbe, Theodore or even Pansy do this to him. That was just inconceivable.

“That’s the kind of people blood-traitors are,” Mother had said with cold anger, “they accuse their family and dishonor them, then abandon them without caring about their feelings. They do this under moral pretense, because they think that knowing that we’re worth more than mudbloods makes us bad people.” She chuckled. “Funnily enough, Sirius was known for his cruelty at school, but since he pretended not to see mudbloods as our rightful inferiors, his muggle-loving friends were sure that he’d never hurt them.” She looked at him then, a singular tear striking her cheek. “You must remember this, my little dragon. No matter how nice they are to you, blood-traitors can’t be trusted. At best, interacting with them leaves you with confusing feelings and a broken heart. And at worst, well… you’ve just heard the fate of the Potters.”

*

The sun was shining brightly, making Draco sweat in his velvet robes. He went to his mother, who was talking enthusiastically about the latest piece of gossip to Mrs Parkinson. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a look at him and saw his face (which was likely red as a tomato, knowing how easily his pale skin changed colors whenever he was hot, embarrassed or angry), and he could tell she was trying not to laugh as she put a cooling charm on him with a flick of her wand.

“Now darling, look, your friends are waiting for you to come collect the wood for the bonfire !”, Mother told him.

“Don’t forget, it brings luck in finding a soul mate”, winked Mrs Parkinson, giggling with Mother as his face flushed once again.

Pansy had the habit of putting on a show while confessing her love for him loudly, but while Draco liked the attention, it made him uncomfortable to imagine himself and Pansy getting married right after school, having a child and being all lovey-dovey like his parents forever.

Speaking of the Devil, Pansy was coming right toward him, with Gregory, Vincent and Theodore following.

She crashed into him with a hug, before kissing both his cheeks.

“Hullo Draco,” she said while batting her eyelashes at him, “Don’t you look dashing today !”

“Don’t I always ?”, he responded with a smirk while he could hear Theodore and Vincent chortling behind her.

He went to greet his other friends by giving them a hug and a kiss on their cheek as well. When it was Theodore’s turn, the latter batted his eyelashes and made kissy faces to tease him so Draco kicked him in the shin. And so, the little group went to harvest the sticks for the bonfire while their parents took care of cutting and carrying tree trunks using magic.

*

The flames were dancing to the rhythm of their voices and laughs. They -his parents, grandparents, his godfather Severus and his friends and their family- were all joined by the hands in a circle around the pyre, pronouncing incantations. Vincent in particular was fascinated by the bonfire. He had once told Draco he liked that part most, because it was their collective effort to bring the fire to life that made it so big and impressive. It was like a metaphor (“Since when do YOU know big words like that ?”, Draco had said back then) for how he could be a bit helpless when alone, but with his friends and family he could feel warmth and be strong.

Draco could feel the magic buzzing in the air. It was so powerful that he felt the magic as if it were waves in his body.

His heart was light as he spinned Pansy and got carried by Vincent and Gregory, laughing with them so much that his cheeks ached. His parents were jumping over the flames as they looked at each other as lovingly as a newly-wed couple. It really was his favorite time of the year, for how happy and connected everyone was. Even the fae had been drawn to the music and were dancing near them.

Then, he blinked, and suddenly, he was alone. The light of the fire was nowhere to be seen, and he was facing a forest. He felt confused and scared, until he recalled his parents once telling him that accidental magic was common during the solstice due to the amount of magic around, and that it could be a lot stronger than the usual accidental magic that the children did.

So, Draco figured that he’d apparated. Pushing down his fear, he felt pride blooming in his chest instead. It was very impressive that he’d successfully apparated at his age, without even getting splinched ! And Father and Mother would find him soon enough, he reassured himself : he likely wasn’t very far from Stonehenge.

He figured he better not move and just wait for his parents to find him, but curiosity got the better of him and he followed the faeries in the woods. They were tiny and had delicate and detailed wings, which fascinated him as much as the foreign language they spoke in their squeaky voices. Looking above him, he could see the stars clearly and felt comforted by the feeling that his ancestors were watching over him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t stop to watch the sky, so he tripped over a root, and rolled down a small ravine.

His heart was beating fast and his head was spinning. His hands were scratched and his face was hurting in a way that gave him the impression that it was too. He looked at his knees and saw that that blood was leaking out of a rather large wound where his tights were torn. He felt light-headed at the sight, never having been one to stand the sight of blood.

He felt tears stinging his eyes and started to sob loudly. It wasn’t fun anymore. He knew he had gone too far in the forest and wouldn't be able to find a way back. He was cold and in pain everywhere. The bliss he had felt earlier had completely disappeared, and had been entirely replaced by panic and suffering.

“What’s that noise ?” he heard all of a sudden. Although it wasn’t a voice he recognized, Draco felt a bit of hope. Maybe that person could help him.

“Do you reckon it’s an animal ?” another deep voice said. Draco concluded that it was a group of teenagers, as their voices had the same weird cracks as Pansy’s older brother.

“Maybe we could kill it. My father took me hunting a month ago. It was mint.” a third voice spoke, and the three boys appeared in Draco’s field of vision.

They had the oddest fashion style he had ever seen. They had shirts as large -and unflattering, Mother would have said had she been there- as their trousers, which had the same holes at the knees as Draco. Maybe they had fallen too ? Their hairstyles were also far from Draco’s sleek one. One of them even had an odd iron box with moving pictures on it in his hand. But he wasn’t about to be picky. He called out to them.

“Excuse me”, he cringed hearing his voice affected by his earlier crying, “I’ve lost my way. Would you have the decency to bring me back out of the forest ?” The teenagers looked at him oddly, then at each other with a smirk.

“My family are very important people. They’ll give you a lot of money as a reward if you help me.” Draco said, a bit louder.

“Why are you dressed like that ?”, the tallest of the boys said, instead of answering him.

Draco was confused, and to be honest, a bit vexed.

“Well, my clothes are actually made by high fashion designers. Not that you’d know anything about that, evidently. But don’t worry, I’m sure that my father will gladly give you new clothes when you bring me back to him, that way you’ll be able to wear clothes that aren’t two sizes too big for you. He’s used to donating to charities, you see.”

The teenagers looked like they weren’t expecting him to talk back, and their eyebrows went up. Then they started snickering.

Getting the feeling that these people wouldn’t help him at all, Draco tried to ignore the ache in his legs and stood up to try and find the way back all by himself, only to be immediately brought down by the blonde boy, who pushed in violently on the ground.

Draco reeled from the shock. No one had ever treated him like that. The atmosphere had changed and he started to panic, remembering the stories his parents had told him about Muggles and their cruelty.

The three older boys were looking at him with a predatory glint in their eyes.

“Well fellas, I believe we’ve found a way to have a little fun tonight.”, the one that was clearly the leader of the group said, while his friends guffawed meanly in approval.

“If he looks like a girl, do you reckon he also screams like one ?”, one of them said, while Draco felt his stomach lurch.

After that, it was a blur. He remembered feeling defenseless, his hair being pulled, kicks in his stomach, not being able to breathe, a tiny red light, the smell of blood and the laughter accompanying his wails.

*

He opened his eyes as much as he could when he heard familiar voices calling his name from afar. He realised then that he must have lost consciousness at some point, and that his attackers were long gone.

He tried to respond but only a whine came out of his mouth. The footsteps stopped, and he saw through his blurred vision the lights of wands coming closer, and his name being called again.

“Dra- DRACO ! HE’S HERE ! AND HE’S HURT ! OH MY BABY…” Mother's panicked voice resonated in the woods as she rushed to his side.

Alerted by Mother’s cries, Father ran to him, with Severus following close behind.

His godfather pulled a tiny bottle out of his robes’ pockets, put it to Draco’s lips and gently ordered him to drink. His deep voice started to sing a healing tune, while his parents were cradling Draco with trembling hands. The last thing he remembered was his friends and their families looking at him in shocked horror before he passed out again in Father’s arms.

*

It was the afternoon when he finally woke up. His parents’ whispering stopped when he grunted and their pale faces turned to look at him.

Mother took his hands and asked him how he was while caressing his hair. He answered that he still ached everywhere, and as he glanced at his body, which was covered in bandages, he figured it was a bit obvious.

Setting his strong hand on Draco’s shoulder, Father then asked him what happened.

He could see the worry increase in his parents’ eyes, blending with anger and disgust as he told them everything. Despite how horrifying that experience had been, Draco found comfort in being coddled by his parents.

By the time he recounted everything, both his parents were crying. Draco was a bit taken aback as he had never seen his father do so, but felt consoled in a weird way to know that this attack had impacted them as much as it did him.

“And the Ministry keeps spreading their propaganda that Muggles are inoffensive and that they are the ones that need to be protected… They have gotten too comfortable. I'm sure it's no coincidence that this happened on a sacred day for wizards and witches too. Attacking children so they can’t defend themselves… There is no point in being nice to them, they are truly barbaric. But don’t you worry,” Father then said, a determined look in his eyes. “They will pay for what they’ve done to you.”

Draco had never seen Father so angry.

*

He was heartened to see that all of his friends had sent him letters to enquire about his well-being. Crabbe and Goyle more or less said the same thing -which made Draco wonder if they had discussed this specific part together : they felt terrible about not having been there to protect him, and they swore that they would stick close to him to prevent things like that from happening again in the future.

Theodore said that had cried at the sight of him the night prior, as Draco was in such a bad state that he had been convinced that he was dead. Draco’s eyes welled up reading this, as he had himself imagined that his life would finish in that forest for a moment.

He chuckled at Pansy’s letter saying that she’d still marry him even if the brutes had disfigured him and that she hoped that they fell off a cliff on their way back.

All of them were worried about him and angry on his behalf, which made him feel a surge of affection for his friends.

*

He was strong enough to go downstairs to eat breakfast with his family the next morning. As he ate his toast with fig jam (his favourite), he was intrigued by the newspaper that Grandpa Abraxas was reading.

On the front page, huge letters spelled “THREE MUGGLES SIXTEEN-YEARS-OLD FOUND DEAD NEAR THEIR HOME, THE VIOLENT ACT OF YOU-KNOW-WHO’S NOSTALGICS ?” Below that, the subtitle said “NEAR THEIR BODIES, A CAMERA WAS SMASHED, AURORS SUSPECT THE CRIMINAL TO HAVE DELETED THE PROOF”.

Father caught him looking and winked at him. A smile curled on Draco’s lips.