Glad Tidings to All Men (Drusilla/Draco - pairing #328)
Title: Glad Tidings to All Men
Pairing #328: Drusilla/Draco
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. Well, little Elizabeth does, but the rest really don't.
“And a merry Christmas to you, too. Bastard.” Draco growled. He was not having a good day. In fact, he had not been having a good week, and a very careful observer might even go so far as to say that Draco, son of Lucius, Malfoy had not been having a good last-couple-of-years.
When he had realised the full ends of his becoming a Deatheater (namely, getting a horrible tattoo on his arm) he had quickly refused. His father hadn’t been too mad, and when Draco immediately skipped out to the Headmaster’s office in Hogwarts, it turned out that Lucius had been spying for the old man for years, as had Draco’s godfather, Severus Snape.
Now the War was finally over, and Draco was bored. With a capital ‘B’. His father had died in the War, his mother had disappeared to live with some relatives somewhere, and Draco – now graduated and the legal owner of the Malfoy Mansion – was having almost everything he owned repossessed by the Ministry to pay for damages and debts that had occurred in the War. Lucius would have been spinning in his grave – if, you know, he had a grave. Draco grimaced as he remembered just how his father had died…protecting his son and wife, and getting burned to ashes alive.
Well, the view out of the huge windows from the portrait gallery was still free – or it would be until they came to take the house. Draco slumped on the window bench and sighed. The portraits – magically sealed to the walls – looked down with mixed looks of pity and disgust. Only one was smiling – that of a young woman standing in a moon-and-star-lit rose garden and clutching a doll.
His head jolted up as he heard the front door slam open. Cautiously he took out his wand, and crept over to the doorway. Draco wasn’t expecting any visitors at this time of night, and he had no idea who it could be.
“Dragon?” A pretty voice called up the grand staircase. It did nothing to soothe Draco’s already-frazzled nerves, and he tensed. “Little Dragon? It is your auntie, come for a visit!”
“Oh, Merlin.” Draco closed his eyes and slumped against the door frame. Well, at least it wasn’t anyone from the Ministry.
A pretty woman turned the corner of the hallway and tilted her head when she saw him standing there. She moved forward towards him, her long Victorian-style dress swishing with every step.
“Hello, Auntie Dru.”
“Little Dragon!” She sped down the corridor to him, and swept him in a huge hug. Much to his embarrassment, Draco felt tears starting to seep out of his eyes. “Don’t cry.” Drusilla demanded, hugging him tighter. “Auntie’s here to take care of you now.”
“Father’s dead, a-and mother’s gone.” Draco sobbed. Never mind his age – it was hard enough for anyone to be deserted by the two people who should have stood by him, no matter how old they were.
“I know, little Dragon.” Drusilla soothed. “But, Auntie’s got a surprise for you. Big bada-boom!” She giggled slightly.
“Are you going to blow something up?” Draco asked, his voice a perfect monotone.
“No, silly!” Drusilla giggled again. “I’m going to take you to where the pretty green light is. Five hundred little girlies, and no-one to look after them all.”
Draco sighed. He’d just finished helping the whole save-the-world thing – but he’d never been able to refuse his crazy great-great-great aunt anything. None of his family had. Even though she had been born a squib, Drusilla had proven herself as a seer, and her sister’s son – in Hogwarts when the tragedy had happened – had left explicit orders in his will that she should be honoured.
Personally, Draco thought it was because Drusilla had refused to tell the vampire who made her that there was a little boy away at boarding school. That little boy had been the only one from his mother’s branch of the Blacks that had survived the massacre Angelus had rained down on their family.
“Where are we going?” He asked at long last, and Drusilla finally let him go, stepping away to twirl in circles. Draco smiled as he watched her – his first true smile for many years.
“To the New World.”
“Dru, it hasn’t been the New World for over two hundred years.” Draco gently reminded her.
“Tut, tut.” Drusilla pouted, waggling her finger disapprovingly. “You should know better than to correct your auntie.” Then she grinned again. “I have magic.” Draco grinned at her delight as she removed a round metal disc from a little bag that hung at her side.
Drusilla gathered the young man to her, and then she gripped the disc tightly – and they stepped through the green portal that appeared in front of them.
When Draco opened his eyes – after a trip not much different than travelling by portkey – he noticed he was standing in snow. A lot of snow. One might even call it a snow drift.
“Dru…” He warned.
“Oops.” She giggled, and jumped out of the very cold snow they had found themselves in.
“Where are we?”
“The home of the little Slayers.” Drusilla grinned, and then whirled around, running up towards an impressive house that could have given the Malfoy mansion a run for its money.
“Bloody insane vampires.” Draco grumbled as he dug himself out. “No sense of temperature…” He was so caught up in his grumbling that he failed to notice the woman who came out to meet Drusilla, and the couple of dozen young girls that ran down the path towards him.
“Hi!” One girl, about five years old, and unbearably adorable with two blonde bunches sticking out. “Are you Dwaco?” He arched one eyebrow, and sneered.
“I’m Draco. Say it properly.” Instead of cowering away, like even the third years had at Hogwarts, the little girl in front of him just grinned.
“Elizabeth.” One of the older girls warned. “I’m sorry.” She held out her hand. “I’m Dawn Summers, and I’d like to welcome you to Slayer Central.”
Draco shook her hand, but then his attention was taken up by the woman hurrying down to meet him. His eyes widened, and the woman swept him into a hug as soon as she got near enough to be able to manage it.
“Mother…” He grinned into her shoulder.
“Merry Christmas, Draco.” Dawn smiled softly, and hurried all the young girls in front of her as the mother and son walked slowly behind, talking about what had happened since they had last seen each other. There would be time for her to speak to him later…and for now she had a boyfriend to get back to. It probably wasn’t wise to leave Connor surrounded by a load of mini-Slayers.
As Draco and Narcissa entered the house, snow began to lightly fall again, covering their footsteps. Inside the house, a roaring log fire was burning, and girls – and their guardians – were wrapping up presents. It was, after all, Christmas.
Author's Note: Why do people never review? Review! It'd be an early Christmas pressie for me!