Not Even The Cold

It has been 3 days since they took his father. And in those 3 days his mother had never left her bedroom.

Draco had to make sure she ate during meal times and slept when she needed to. He was constantly making sure all her needs were met. And all done without a single complaint.

Draco Malfoy, a mommy’s boy? Partly true. But the reason why he was trying his best to look after his mother was because she was the only family he had left.

Was it so hard for him to have a normal family? Draco constantly thought.

That morning, he sat on his bed staring at himself in the mirror. He looked ordinary. He could easily pass off as a muggle. And as shameful as it is to admit it, it seemed like a very good idea.

Growing tired at staring at his sleep deprived eyes, he decided to check on his mother. As he entered her room, there she sat again, by the window. For the past 3 days, Narcissa Malfoy would sit and stare out the window. She wouldn’t talk if given a choice, nor would she leave.

Draco could feel her pain, her lost, her fears. Her emotions filled the room, and Draco wished he could do something about it.

Upon hearing him enter, Narcissa turned around and forced a smile.

“Mother, have you eaten?” Draco asked, worried he would lose her too.

“Would you make me a sandwich?” Narcissa asked softly.

Draco nodded and did as he was told. He headed to the kitchen and attempted at making a sandwich, which was the least he could do for his mother.

Bread. Ham. Cheese. Lettuce. What else? Draco thought to himself as he placed one on top of the other. When he finally took a step back from the sandwich, he felt disappointed. If he wouldn’t eat that thing himself, how could his mother?

Draco swept the kitchen table clean, sending the sandwich and everything else on it onto the floor.

“Elkin, clean this up!” Draco shouted at a house elf who hurried to the task given. “And make mother a sandwich,” Draco ordered.

Of all the concocted emotions that was driving him nuts, the very one that affected him that day was disappointment. Couldn’t he do anything himself? Is making a sandwich so hard? Draco felt like a disappointment.

And now that the Dark Lord had chosen him for a task, he was so afraid he would be a disappointment. Not to the Dark Lord, but to his family. Their lives were at stake. If he should fail, he might as well disown himself.

Deep in his own thoughts, Draco noticed the house elf slowly walking up to him. And as he took the plate of sandwich from it, he gave the house elf a kick, “Back to work.”

Still emotionally distraught, Draco headed to his mother’s room and placed the plate on her lap.

“Thank you dear,” Narcissa smiled as she kissed Draco on his hand.

“Do you need anything else?” Draco asked immediately.

Narcissa shook her head and Draco left her to her sandwich. He didn’t have anywhere else to go but his room, so he retreated under the messy comforter on his bed.

Though under his comforter he felt protected from the chill in his room, deep inside, ice was building. Ice was building on everything he hold dear to him, his hopes, his dreams, his future. All growing cold. All fading away with every step he took.

To think that he could actually have a normal family made Draco hate his father. How could his father drag them all into this mess? He never wanted it, and he was sure neither did his mother. Now that his father was in Azkaban, he had to fix it all.

Alone in his room, Draco held on to his tears no longer. The pain, the hurt, the fear and everything that made his mother upset, everything that tore his family apart, was finally surfacing.

He was 16. Merely 16. He didn’t deserve to go through all these.

When Draco heard his door open, he quickly wiped the tears off his cheek and sat up. He was ready to yell at the house elf for intruding his privacy. But at the door was not a house elf… it was his mother.

“How are you feeling?” Narcissa asked as she walked towards him and sat on his bed.

“Fine,” Draco answered, surprised that his mother left her room.

“You don’t look fine,” Narcissa said as she wiped a tear off his cheek.

“Mother…” Draco trailed off. He didn’t know what to say.

“I know. I know you are angry and upset. I know you’re scared,” Narcissa said as she held on to her son’s hand.

“I, I don’t think I can do it,” Draco said, holding back his tears.

“You don’t have to, if you can’t.” Narcissa never wanted this for her son, and she could feel his fear.

“But if I dont-” Draco choked on his words.

“Let me take care of this. Don’t worry about it.” Narcissa closed in and gave her son a hug.

And as though the flood gates broke open, Draco broke down. Tears fell and he couldn’t stop, even if he forced himself to.

“Hush now, everything is going to be alright.” Narcissa held on to her son tighter. He had been taking care of her for the past few days, and it was her turn now. She was his mother, and she was going to protect him.

This time, Draco felt protected. Knowing his mother will have his back, he felt secured. They may not have his father, but they had each other. And nothing was going to break them apart. Not the fear, not the anger, not the pain, not even the cold.

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