分卷阅读5（2 / 2）

It still hurts, when Harry remembers it, but the apology soothes, even if just a bit. She also told him more about Sirius, growing up with him, family dinners with him and his brother. Harry thinks this is another way for her to apologize, and listens to her stories, enraptured, even as his heart still hurts, hurts and aches so much for Sirius and Remus, and oh, god, Remus.

He tries to hide it, how her words affect him, but he knows it shows on his face, as plain as day.

Before he stands up to leave, Narcissa looks straight at him and asks, “Are you alright, Harry?”

And Harry thinks that she’s not just asking about the now, she’s asking about the yesterday, the tomorrow, and his every day. And he doesn’t know why he wants to be honest at this moment, maybe it’s because Narcissa has also already bared herself, that it seems… safe to bare himself, too. In the end, he allows himself a little bit of honesty.

“No. Not really.”

And Narcissa nods, doesn’t offer meaningless words of comfort, just the understanding of the reality that he is not okay.

Harry looks at her, too, at the dark spots under her eyes. “Are you alright?”

Narcissa gives him a wry smile. “No. Not really.”

And all at once, Harry can see it, the weight on her shoulders: Her husband forever lost in Azkaban, leaving her with a multitude of sins, a ruined name, and a tainted home that once hosted a madman. Her son, the only remaining love of her life, lost within his own mind.

Narcissa sighs, slow and heavy. “Summer is the host of many occasions between families and organizations of power. I have tried to be present in each and every one of them, but it’s been…difficult since Draco returned.”

“Occasions?” Harry asks, thinking of the many fancy invitations that he’s thrown in the trash in the past three months. “You mean parties?”

“Yes,” Narcissa nods, and then she chuckles. “Some of those you’ve declined to attend, I believe.”

Harry gives a small, unrepentant grin.

Narcissa continues. “It is a must that I remain visible to other pureblood families. Of course, the Wizarding World knows of what part the Malfoy family has played in the war, but we cannot let that force us into hiding. There are those who are waiting for the opportunity to gain all that we have yet to lose.” She glances at Draco wistfully. “We may have done bad things, Harry, but my son doesn’t deserve to be stripped of everything he ever was and had.”

She turns back to him. “It’s been a bit tiring to attend so many functions. I dislike leaving Draco alone, especially as he is right now.”

Harry imagines then of mornings, of Draco alone in his room, staring at the garden. Coming and going, but still returning to the same scene where there are flowers in his garden but no one to talk to.

And it’s weird, how Malfoy has turned into Draco in his head now. Maybe he’s been spending too much time with Narcissa, and it’s weird to call Draco as Malfoy in her presence, or maybe what happened the other night kind of makes him feel like he’s gotten to know Draco more as a person. He’s a little less slimy, little Slytherin from Hogwarts now and a lot more human.

A little less Malfoy, a lot more Draco.

The words are slipping past his lips before it fully registers in his brain. “Tell me when you need to attend those parties. I can look after Draco when you’re gone.”