Chapter Text
Chapter 1
I hear your voice like a boom in my tower
I sleep alone, I'm completely fine
Blowing smoke- Gracie Abrams
January 2008
Draco was running late. He was never late. Until today, apparently. Fuck. He cursed under his breath. His pace quickened, until he was almost running. Heart racing, each footfall echoed off the cobblestones of Diagon Alley as he pushed past the last of the day's shoppers.
Draco had a good excuse, though. He was taking care of his sick wife for Merlin’s sake. Astoria had taken to her bed for weeks now. The blood curse. Who knew when they were five she would be destined for death before she even turned thirty? The marriage contract was signed in blood before they even received their Hogwarts letter. Well, technically, he was promised to Daphne, the older sister. He actually liked Daphne—as a friend. Enjoyed her company. However, when Daphne realized she was not interested in Draco at all ( let alone wizards in general) and refused to marry him, even threatening death, panic ensued. He didn't hate her for it. Actually respected her for standing up to all of them. When Daphne ran off to America with Cho Chang right after the war, they all sat down and had a meeting.
The families threw the younger sister at him. They needed someone from the same bloodline, so there they were. Her family probably knew about the blood curse, but what did it matter? There was nothing to do at that point. He had a duty to uphold, so he did what he was told to do. He always did. Duty. So many decisions were made based on that. Going through the motions, trying to be a better person, but in the back of his mind something was always missing.
Now, he would take care of her because that was what he was supposed to do. He was 27 years old for fuck's sake and taking care of his dying wife. Today was his turn to fetch her potions from the apothecary--the ones that kept her alive (barely) and out of serious pain (barely) and of course, he was fucking late. It was nearing 4pm and the shop tended to close early.
Don’t be closed. Please. He pleaded silently.
Since his wand was confiscated after the war, apparating anywhere was out of the question.
His sentence was five years in Azkaban and to surrender his wand for fifteen. Fifteen years. Sentenced to be a squib. He was out of Azkaban in three on good behavior, and he had appealed every year to get the wand back. He had been denied this year…again.
Though he had gotten pretty good at wandless magic, mostly he still had to do things the muggle way. Making tea, getting from here to there, cooking, cleaning. For today, he flooed into the Leaky and was practically running down the street to the apothecary. His robes were getting rumpled, his hair fell into his eyes. He probably looked ridiculous, racing through the streets. Dodging people and trying not to run into anything. He rounded the corner, could see the dark storefront just ahead. The flickering light post casting long shadows across the main strip. He could make it in time. For Tori.
As the owner was flipping the ‘Open’ sign around to ‘Closed’ and lock up, Draco grabbed the door handle and gave his best look of ‘please!?’ And ‘come on, mate?!’ The owner rolled his eyes and let him in.
“Well, you’re late, Mr. Malfoy.” Theo Nott rolled his eyes.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. The time just got away from me! Just Tori’s potions, please.”
“Who is it, Theo?” An unknown female voice from the back.
“Oh, just an old friend, picking up potions for his wife,” Theo yelled to the back room.
A pressure like invisible hands gripped Dracos temples. A cruel throb then a dull ache hit his head hard and fast. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He should get some Pepper Up potion while he was there.
"Theoooo, who is that?" He whispered, and peered over Theo's shoulder to get a good look. "Are you... fucking someone?"
Theo was one of Draco's dearest friends and his aptitude for potions made owning the apothecary a no brainer. Theo had a vault full of galleons, so he didn't need the money, and he often opened late just to close early. He acted like he didn't care about the job, but Draco knew it gave his friend purpose, a reason to get up and get dressed in the morning. Much like caring for Astoria did for Draco.
Theo waved his hand in a non-committal response. “Of course not, Draco, an old friend from school.”
“Who? Do I know her?”
“Doubtful. Blaise said he was going to stop by your place today. How's Astoria?
Everyone always asked, no one wanted to know the true answer.
“She’s… not doing so well, unfortunately. Sort of going in and out of lucidity.”
“Well, here’s her potions,” Theo grabbed them from under the counter. "Off you go. Give her my best, Draco, and come see us for drinks at my place. It would be good for you.” Theo practically pushed him out of the store.
Draco turned to leave. He was going through the motions. The focus on Tori and his routine gave him a sense of peace. It seemed to settle his restlessness.
He loved his friends, but Tori had taken a turn after the ceremony. Their wedding ceremony . What a joke. They wanted to make it official. There kept being reasons to postpone it. Waiting for him to get out of prison was the main one. Waiting until he got his magic back, but then she fell ill, really ill. So, they collectively decided to let her have some dignity, one last hurrah. Also, so that she wouldn’t be alone. It seemed like it took all the energy out of her. Like she had saved everything up for that one day, for the small ceremony and the couple of photos that were taken, and now she was paying the price.
“I’ll try my best, Theo.” He wouldn’t.
Tori would never be able to make it to one of Theo's debaucherous drinking nights. She also shouldn’t be left alone.
As Draco pushed out the door he saw long brown curls flash from the back. He craned his neck to see who the former classmate was. He had never seen wild hair like that. He tried to see this person Theo supposedly "wasn’t fucking", but the door slammed shut in his face so he thought nothing of it. He turned and began his walk back to the floo… and to his wife.