Family Ties (HP)
: Buffy (and the rest of her world) belongs to Joss. Draco (and all other things Harry Potter) belongs to JK Rowling.
Draco Malfoy hadn’t expected to survive the Dark Lord’s fall. Hell, there had been times in the last year when he would have welcomed death with open arms. He was pretty sure there was no other way to forget some of the things he’d seen. Some of the things he’d done.
And yet, he was pretty sure nothing he had done came close to the crimes he now knew his father to be guilty of. Sure, Lucius wasn’t in Azkaban. He’d had to pay some stiff fines to the Ministry, and was on what amounted to probation for the next 17 years. If he put so much as a toe out of line, he’d be back in prison.
But Draco had heard things during his apprenticeship in the Death Eater ranks. Heard things that he hoped to any god that would grant prayers to someone as undeserving as himself would never reach Narcissa Malfoy’s ears. She must have had some idea that her husband tortured and killed Muggles. But to father a child with one?
Draco was under no illusions that the encounter would have been consensual. Not with his father’s views on Muggles. Not with what he’d discovered went on when Death Eaters found a pretty Muggle plaything. The only bright side he could find was that Jocelyn Harriman had been spirited away to a hiding place in California by the Order before it had come to the Death Eaters' attention that Lucius hadn’t cleaned up after himself. They’d had to put some heavy duty memory charms on her.
Possibly too heavy duty. He couldn’t think what on earth would possess her to saddle her child with such an outlandish name, much less move to a Hellmouth after the breakup of her 'marriage'. Surely someone who had been the victim of dark magic once would sense the charged atmosphere and the danger?
But she hadn’t. And her daughter didn’t know any better. So here he was, sitting in a café in a town situated on a Hellmouth, watching his oblivious Muggle half-sister and her friends chatter away a few tables over. He’d overheard enough to know they were in their final year of school. They were talking about an upcoming school dance. He wished he could turn back time to the point where he and his own friends could still be so carefree and unconcerned.
He couldn’t change his past any more than he could change hers. But maybe he could make amends. Starting by working up the courage to introduce himself, and gain his sister’s trust to the point that he could warn Buffy Summers that she and her mother needed to leave this town for their own safety. He’d worry later about convincing her that magic was real.