Capítulo 35: Returning Home

Going from a daily life of focusing solely on a project to one where you don't have an immediate goal is a massive change. The first days back at the Malfoy Manor were spent adjusting to this new reality. I had been spending much more time in the mansion, a few days just resting, a few days reading in the library, a few days where my mother had me practicing my painting or embroidery, and quite a few days dealing with my much-neglected brother.

Draco had grown up quite a bit over the last few years, but a seven-year-old Draco is much harder to placate than a three-year-old Draco. It had only been a few days since I returned home when the young man started camping outside my room. I was on my way to another relaxing day in the library, with no goal in mind, just trying to learn something new, when I was stopped by the whine of "You were too busy with your project to play with me." There my brother stood, arms crossed and a smirk on his face, trying to imitate our not-so-cute father.

"I know, Draco. I'm sorry," I said, trying to mollify him. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He gave me a skeptical look but said nothing more. I thought I was in the clear. An hour or so later, once our parents had left to go about their business, he cornered me in one of the many corners of the library. "There's this new game I've heard about," he began, his tone carefully casual. "It's called Owl Trap. It would be fun to play together, don't you think?"

I agreed, thinking it would be a good way to spend time with him and unwind. Of course, Draco didn't have any funds, and with my meager income from the show and merchandise, I was left to foot the bill. Postage travels quite fast in the wizarding world and within the hour, the two of us had the game. It was quite rudimentary and similar to the game Mouse Trap; some enterprising wizard must have seen it in the muggle world and decided to change a few things around for magical children.

Draco was in a good mood and mentioned how snacks would be perfect for us to play the game with. My brother mentioned that there were certain butterscotch cookies he wanted, but apparently, he had to run to the bathroom so I would have to ask Dobby. Overall, it was an enjoyable time. Draco plowed through the cookies, and we played quite a few rounds of the game before our mother got back from the "Enchanted Pages Society," a book group that only read titles like "My PotionMaster" and "The Seeker Chased Me."

My mother was not nearly as happy about how my brother and I had spent our day. Apparently, Draco had been banned from asking for those cookies after he got sick from eating too many of them. The game was also not something we were supposed to buy; the company making them was of muggleborn origin and my father was not interested in supporting them. I would need to have a conversation with my father about the benefits of the free market and an increased wizarding population. He had only supported Project Ambrosia because I had only told him about the benefits for wizard strength. I was given a stern talking-to by my mother about my behavior, while my brother had escaped and left me out to dry.

Draco avoided me for the rest of the day, whether out of guilt or fear of Professor Pain, I didn't know. I eventually caught up to the rascal after dinner. I just had to be calm and ask him a question about whether that was intentional with all the tact and poise of an adult talking to a child.

"Have you been trying to guilt me into doing things for you?" I asked directly. I really need to work on my communication skills; if this continues, I might be labeled a reclusive genius by society.

Draco's eyes widened, and he looked away, fiddling with the edge of his robe. "I just wanted to spend time with you," he muttered.

I sighed, realizing there was more to this than just manipulation. "Draco, I want to spend time with you too. But that doesn't mean you should guilt me into doing things."

He looked up at me, his eyes glistening with tears. "I thought... I thought you didn't think I was important anymore. You've been so busy."

And now the child was crying. I really need to work on this. So, I did what felt natural at that moment. I moved closer, pulling him into a hug. "Draco, you are always important to me. Just because I have another project doesn't mean you're any less important. I get really absorbed in my work; it's a problem I've had since I was born. I will work to be better at taking time out to be with you, so please just stop crying."

Draco took a few seconds to clean himself up a bit before responding, "I didn't cry; it's just stuffy in here and my eyes just so happened to leak."

"Whatever you say, little bro."

"Don't call me little bro; you are only older by 15 minutes."

With that, our emotional moment transitioned into playful banter between siblings. It was nice to be home again.