Time After Everything || a Sequel to Saving Myself

XLII

Draco wasn't what you would call a reckless driver. But he sped away from his home in Yorkshire, driving far too quickly. His anger settled in a hot pool at the base of his stomach, making him nauseous.

Rarely, he got angry. But this. . .he let out a breath, trying to calm himself. "You're so selfish!" "He needs Teddy to help him!"

Draco slammed his palm to his steering wheel, remembering Harry's heated words. But he was right, wasn't he?

Pulling over to the side of the road, Draco leaned against the steering wheel, his chest hurting from the force of suppressing his emotions. Allowing himself a few deep breaths, he sat up, frowning at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

He looked older than he remembered; his blonde hair was streaked with just a touch of grey, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes where he smiled, though they drooped these last few days.

Draco remembered that night he had gotten the letter from St. Mungo's, telling him of Astoria's death and Scorpius' birth. He loved Astoria before, but never in a relationship, but as a close friend. Even if she didn't speak to him for six months before her death, she and Draco had been close.

Draco remembered when he had first seen Scorpius, his mind racing in a mixture of fear-filled thoughts and happiness. He could almost feel the cold wall against his forehead as he cried, speaking to Remus on the phone and asked for Sirius to come and get him.

Maybe, he thought, this wouldn't have happened if I had been more open. As he drove, he blinked quickly, remembering Scorpius' expression when he had given him a photo of Astoria. He had been twelve at the time, beginning to grow quiet.

Harry had been right, him being selfish. Draco didn't mean to be, but it was all so stressful, having Scorpius away. Even if he didn't say or do much with the rest of their family, Scorpius was a part of them. He just didn't understand it. He didn't do anything wrong.

Draco didn't even realize that he had stopped the car in front of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Under the street lights, images if the night Harry had come back to him played through his mind.

He turned off his car, shoving the keys into his pocket, not bothering to knock before entering.  Careful to not make much noise, he walked into the kitchen, digging around in the cupboard for Sirius' jar of cookies that he kept.

Every time he and Harry went over there, he demolished the cookies, laughing when Sirius reminded him of how he had whined about them when he was seventeen.

But the jar was empty, presumably from the last time he and Harry had been there. Without thinking, he threw the glass jar down, watching it shatter.

Sirius, who had been upstairs with Remus, frowned when he heard the shatter. Remus narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips. "Is it a burglar?"

"No, there are wards up, " replied Sirius, grabbing his wand from the nightstand. "I'll go check. You stay up here."

"No, I'm definitely coming." Sirius walked downstairs, frowning at the ache in his knee. It was times like this that he felt old, but he didn't want to imagine that he was.

Just as he pushed open the kitchen door, he saw Draco standing there, taking deep breaths before shouting, "SHIT!"

As Remus repaired the jar, Sirius went over to Draco, placing his hands on his shoulders as he said in a joking tone, "I hope you have a good reason for breaking my jar."

Draco let out a breath, swallowing. "Sorry, I. . .I'm just upset." His eyes filled with tears and he looked at Sirius, whispering, "Harry and I had another fight."