"Draco, dear, welcome home!" Narcissa Malfoy greeted her son almost as soon as he'd made his way into the Manor. She wrapped her thin arms around him in a tight hug, and rested her head in the crook of his neck, a smile on her perfectly painted lips.

Draco hugged his mother in return, but his gaze remained cold. He dropped his luggage onto the polished floor, and breathes heavily through his nose as his mother continued to hug him. When she pulled away, she looked up at him, joyful eyes meeting his stormy ones.

"Are you alright, love? Care for some tea?" She asked, a frown etching itself onto her face as she brushed her fingers on the side of his arm, tracing the material of his cloak.

"I'd love some tea." He answered in return, shaking his head slightly to make himself refocus. He abandoned his luggage, and followed his mother to the lounge, where a freshly brewed pot of tea waited for them, stirring a copious amount of milk and sugar into each drink.

When it had finished stirring itself, Narcissa handed a porcelain cup of the tea to her son, who sipped at it thoughtfully. Then, she took one for herself. She watched her son, who sat elegantly in his arm chair; one leg crossed over the other, and a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"How's Hogwarts this year, dear?" She asked once he failed to start the conversation. She took another thoughtful sip, and placed her cup down on the saucer.

"It's... It's Hogwarts," Draco decided, not sure how else to put it. "And my students dislike me, much like they disliked Severus."

"You've taken over his class?" Narcissa frowned at the mentioning of students disliking her son. She knew that he was now teaching some of the younger years that her son had gone to school with, and she knew that there were definitely people who didn't like him... or any Malfoy for that matter.

"Of course I have, Mother. Potions are my finest skill, and it's better that I teach it, rather than crazy old Slughorn." Draco explained, rolling his eyes as he took another drink, and then placed his cup on a saucer as well.

"And you're teaching classes with Harry Potter?" The mention of Potter's name brought a goosebumps to Draco's skin, and he exhaled heavily. The previous day's events would be etched into his mind forever, and he felt disheartened by the fact that he had royally turned things to rubbish with the other wizard. All his life, he'd just wanted to be Harry Potter's friend, but with his latest stunt, he knew there was absolutely no way that would ever be possible now.

"I am, indeed. In fact, he and I have been quite... close to one another over these last few weeks." Narcissa rose her eyebrows at that, reaching for her tea.

"A relationship? Draco, you've never told me you were-"

"Not like that, Mother. Merlin! No, we are partners of the non-romantic kind. McGonagall, she forced he and I into a temporary bond as if to mellow us out, and we were living in the same quarters for a bit, but that's over with. Our only association with one another now is when we teach the Dueling Club." The blond explained fervently, a blush prominent on his pale cheeks. As he spoke, memories of the day before crossed his mind again, and his expression fell as he winced.

"They've started the Dueling Club up again? How nice. Of course it would be Minerva to try and mend things between the two of you. Honestly, I don't understand why the two of you hate the other so much. He seemed like such a nice boy, in spite of his insufferable fame, and association with... Muggleborns. And how could anyone refuse the offered friendship from my son in First Year?" His mother rambled, and he tried his best to focus on his tea, only setting the cup down once more when she'd ceased ranting.

"I heard he was originally meant for Slytherin." He answered honestly.

"Of course he was! The boy had survived The Dark Lord's attempt on his life; that boy was reeking with Dark Magic." Narcissa rolled her eyes. She hadn't approved of everything her husband had done, and she hadn't been fond of taking the life of an innocent boy, and so her only real issue with Harry Potter was his refusal of friendship to her beloved son.

She thought to the earlier days, nearly nineteen years previous when The Dark Lord, at his highest reign, had murdered the Potter's, and that night, Lucius and Narcissa had shared a glass of champagne, believing a tale that hadn't been one hundred percent true.

When it had been discovered that the Potter's only son had survived, and went away with only a scar to live with Muggles, Lucius had been outraged. The Dark Lord, a wonderful man that Narcissa tried her best to truly remember as Tom Riddle, was gravely, and temporarily incapacitated. And so, upon hearing this news, this had been really when Lucius, a once reasonable man, had turned sour.

She mourned the loss of her good husband, and grew fearful of the evil man he had become. He'd become obsessed with the idea of having The Dark Lord rise again, and had ranted about an innocent boy night and day - provoking a twisted reality to an equally young Draco, who had believed Harry Potter was a hero, rather than a villain.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore. We've both graduated, and we've gone back as alumni - as professors." Draco stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And maybe, if only you work a little harder, you can finally be friends." The woman smiled thoughtfully. Deep down, she'd always seen how greatly her son had cared for Harry Potter. Even when her son seemed to hate the green-eyed Chosen One, she knew that in the end, it would be that boy who would always be his number one.

"Mother, why're you so obsessed with Potter and I becoming friends?" Draco groaned, as once again he thought of yesterday, and how, even though the blond had had his morals, he did find most of the day to be intriguing, and dare he say it - wonderful.

"He'll be good for you, Draco. He has been good for you." A distant look grew into Narcissa's eyes, and her son knew she'd gotten deep in thought again. Since his father had been incarcerated, it appeared Narcissa Malfoy was always deep in thought. Some days, Draco feared she would grow so immersed into her head; that she'd forget the reality around her.

"What do you mean?" He asked, gazing at her. She didn't answer at first, but when she did, he kind of wished that she hadn't.

"Draco, I may have been... quiet to you over these last few years, but that doesn't mean I was unaware. I know you, my dear son; I know you far better than you may know yourself, and therefore, I know you care extremely for that boy."

Draco's eyes widened. All this time, during this entire conversation, had his mother really been believing that her son was in love with Harry Potter? How preposterous!

"Mother, you speak to me like I'm in love with him. I'm not. I will marry a woman someday, and I will produce an heir to the Malfoy name." He claimed sharply, angered by the accusation.

"And why would you do that - produce an heir, I mean?" She asked, a frown casting onto her face.

"Because the Malfoy name, and bloodline, must live on. We're one of the few Pureblood families left, and I refuse to hold responsibility of this streak dying out."

"But Draco, haven't you heard? Blood doesn't really matter much anymore, and with your father incarcerated, our funds are sufficiently decreasing. Soon, we'll have to sell the Manor. Soon, we'll be just like anybody else. The Malfoy line is as good as dead already. I respect your loyalty to your name, but please, my son, you must put your best interests at hand as well." These words came as a shock to Draco. Bankruptcy. His mother hadn't officially said the word, but he knew what she had meant. He was overcome by emotions then, and found himself kneeling before his mother weakly.

"Mother, Potter kissed me." He admitted suddenly, clutching the bottom of her skirt, leaning into it, tears surfacing in his eyes.

"Oh, Draco..."

"And I- I kissed him back. Many times. For an entire day, actually. Yesterday." His words came out choked, and he struggled to catch his breath.

"Baby, my baby... You're in love." His head shot up quickly, and he wiped at his eyes profusely. He stood tall, and put on the most serious face he could muster, ignoring the way his heart thumped in his chest.

"I am not in love with Potter. I'm not. That's impossible, ridiculous! I'm a Malfoy, and we Malfoy's don't give into-"

"You're also a Black, Draco. You mustn't forget that. Though the Malfoy's were regal, and stood headstrong in their beliefs, the Blacks were lovers, and chased after what their hearts wanted most - some more than others..." Narcissa trailed, no doubt thinking of her sister, and how she had been so blinded by love for The Dark Lord that she'd lost her life in the process of defending his name.

"But Mum, I'm not a Chaser, I'm a Seeker."

"An even better point, Draco. You've been seeking something, or rather someone for so long, and now, after all this time, you've caught sight of your own personal Snitch. The endgame of all endgames. Your final 150 points to Slytherin - 150 points to your heart, and your deepest desires." Narcissa claimed thoughtfully, running a thin hand down her son's arm.

"Mother, this is crazy. You're just tired. I'm tired. Perhaps tomorrow we'll be thinking sensibly. Tomorrow is Christmas. Yes, tomorrow." Draco shook his head, refusing to believe what his mother said. He kindly excused himself from teatime, and made his way to his childhood room.

Tears were forming in his eyes again, and he found himself rummaging through his wardrobe before the first tear - the first droplet of truth, even slid down his face.

Inside the wardrobe was an old, dark-wooded chest. It smelled musty, and of old parchment, much like the contents inside of it. He undid the lock on the chest, and allowed it to open with an ancient creak. Parchments dating back years and years rested inside, all containing headlines to a certain messy-haired, green-eyed wizard:

"An End to the Dark Reign?"

"The Boy Who Lived to Attend Hogwarts This Fall?"

"The Chamber Has Been Sealed: The Second Year Hero's Story"

"Remus Lupin, Best Friend of James Potter, A WEREWOLF?"

"The Fourth Triwizard Champion: Harry Potter!"

"Dumbledore's Army Reborn: Lead by None Other Than Harry Potter"

"Harry Potter Leads A Memorial Service for Beloved Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore"

"The Dark Lord Defeated At Last!"

He stared at the clippings, an incredulous look on his face, and then with a scoff, he began tearing them to shreds. He'd torn the parchment into almost microscopic pieces, but still, it wasn't enough. And so, he cast a "Reducto" spell, and then an "Incendio," and they were gone from existence.

He breathed heavily, furiously wiping at the tears down his face, and bared his teeth, slamming the chest closed, but it didn't shut all the way. He frowned, wiping his eyes once more and took notice of a small piece of parchment with his own handwriting on it:

'I've gotten everything I want
Through my entire life
But the one thing that I will not have
Is a beautiful wife

For I am foolish and in love
With not somebody's daughter
Because my heart belongs to him
A boy named Harry Potter'

Draco nearly fainted. He clutched the parchment, and all of its obviously fifth-year-Draco glory, and grit his teeth, allowing the truth to seep in. The blond, headstrong, confident wizard was hopelessly gone for a messy-haired, green-eyed wizard named Harry Potter.