Aspen in the Sunlight - A Year Like None Other

"I'm going in my school clothes."

"There'll be photographers!"

Snape held up a hand. "That will be quite enough, Draco. We're asking a good deal of Harry as it is."

"It's not so bad, is it?" Harry looked down at himself. "Lots of students'll be in their regular robes." He looked at Draco, too, then. "Anyway, why would you want the Prophet to think you have any respect for Lucius?"

"It's respect for Hogwarts ," said Draco stiffly. "And I'd like my mother to think I'm doing well. Is that so terrible?"

"No." Harry should have remembered that Draco would be thinking of his mother. "Just . . . um, don't get too upset if Remus holds her hand or something."

"He'd better not," said Draco darkly. "And not just because the sight would bother me. He's going to get himself killed awfully quickly if he thinks the real Lucius Malfoy was one for public displays."

That figured. Narcissa Malfoy was basically an ice princess, as far as Harry was concerned.

"Lupin will do his best," said Snape, ushering them both out. Harry had a feeling that his father was trying to be encouraging, but his words accomplished the opposite. Harry knew what Snape thought of Remus' best, after all.

They walked the upwards-sloping corridors in silence. Just as well, since Harry was busy giving himself a pep-talk. It won't really be Lucius, he thought as he turned corners and climbed stairs. No matter how evil-sounding he might be, it'll be Remus in there. Remus in a Lucius-suit. Because Lucius is dead. And it's all right to feel happy about that. Even Dumbledore did.

For all that though, Harry's arms were itching so badly by then that he really wished he'd held onto his invisibility cloak.

It wasn't lost on him, either, how ironic it was that he'd demanded his father's things, only to give them back to Severus in the end. But that was all right, he told himself. James wouldn't want him to have the map or cloak, not if Harry was going to use them so he could hurt himself.

They exited through a side door at ground level, Snape leading them down a winding path Harry had never noticed before. He didn't really know where it led. Even when they'd reached a small clearing at the end, and Harry saw the statue mounted atop of simple pedestal, he didn't understand.

Draco obviously did. He sucked in his breath through his teeth.

At first Harry thought that the other boy must have spotted his mother in the milling crowd. But no, Draco was looking almost straight up. Harry craned his neck as well, and that was when the truth dawned on him.

The Owlery.

The statue--or Lucius himself, rather--had been erected at the base of the Owlery.

"A rather suitable location, Albus and I thought," murmured Snape near his ear.

Harry nodded, the motion feeling a little disjointed. It was true, what his father had said before. He'd never see the statue again, unless he tried to. Students didn't usually go wandering around on this part of the grounds, and for good reason. With so many owls constantly flying in and out of the tower above, anything down below stood an excellent chance of getting pelted with bird droppings.

There must be a charm in effect to route the birds away for the ceremony, Harry thought. Not a single one was anywhere to be seen. But once the dedication was finished, Albus--or maybe Severus--would remove the spell.

After that, Lucius wouldn't remain white and pristine marble for long.

"Very suitable," said Harry in as quiet a voice as he could manage. "But won't an elf make sure that the statue's kept clean?"

"As a former Malfoy elf, Dobby insisted on being assigned statue-cleaning duty," said Snape, a slight smile hovering near his lips. "You can imagine how often he'll see to such a task."

Harry smiled. That would work.

Draco didn't look as though he was following the conversation at all. His silver eyes kept scanning the crowd. He actually pushed himself up on tiptoe so he could get a better look.

"There," said Snape, nudging Draco slightly with his hand. "Passing beneath that old oak."

Harry looked too, and saw Narcissa Malfoy walking sedately forward, her steps so graceful she might have been floating. Or maybe it looked that way because her dark green robes were light and filmy, skimming along the ground as she moved. By her side walked a perfect recreation of her husband, right down to the sneering, superior expression on his face. His silver-blond hair was combed straight back from his forehead, and in his hand he held a snake-headed cane.

The Order must have recreated Lucius wand, thought Harry. With a different core, one that would better suit Remus.

"She's beautiful," said Draco in an awed voice. "Oh, Merlin. Look at her! She's glowing . I've never seen her looking so well!"

"You just haven't seen her in a while," said Harry dryly. "You've been brave this year, but you miss her. Of course you do."

"Perhaps recent events have been good for her, as well," added Severus.

That made sense. Draco didn't talk about his parents very much, so Harry had no idea if Narcissa had really loved her husband, but if not, he wouldn't have been the easiest wizard in the world to live with, would he? Though that idea was mildly alarming. If Remus was doing a good job 'being' Lucius, then Narcissa shouldn't be noticing any difference!

Dumbledore suddenly appeared at the front of the crowd. In contrast to the other staff who, like Snape, had worn formal yet subdued clothing, the headmaster's robes were about as garish as Harry had ever seen. Mustard yellow and silver, his floppy hat hung with crimson tassels that reached halfway down his temples.

He touched his wand to his throat for an instant, and then began speaking in a booming voice. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Our guest of honour has arrived, so if you'd be so kind as to clear the way." As Dumbledore motioned with his hands, the audience parted to leave an empty space leading to the front, where the headmaster stood directly in front of the statue.

Lucius and Narcissa walked up the central aisle, both of them nodding slightly to the professors they passed on the way. Like royalty, thought Harry. Except that royalty had enough class--or he thought so, at least--to avoid glaring even at people they hated. For Lucius wasn't giving Severus a reserved nod. Far from it.

Narcissa at that moment, though, seemed to have eyes only for Draco. Harry didn't think she'd even noticed Severus, let alone himself. Her sparkling blue gaze was steady on her son, her features filled with what certainly looked like love.

Too bad you didn't love your son enough to side with him against your husband, thought Harry. You renounced and repudiated him, just as much as Lucius did. You let him be emancipated, and never said a word in his defence . . .

But objecting to the emancipation would have kept Draco more firmly in Lucius' sphere of influence, Harry remembered. Maybe Narcissa had been doing what she thought best. She'd certainly tried to look out for Draco's financial future, even if her twisted idea of how to do that had been to start killing off her own relatives . . .

By then, the Malfoys had passed them by. Harry turned a bit to see how his brother was doing, and was shocked to see Draco blinking quickly, his features stiff like he was putting a lot of effort into controlling his expression. Snape's hand was on his shoulder, squeezing slightly before it retreated back into his formal black robes.

Draco dragged in a harsh breath, and kept his gaze centred on the scene unfolding at the front.

Narcissa and her husband were standing to one side of the headmaster, both of them so close to the statue that they could have touched it if they'd merely stretched out an arm. Harry felt a chill shiver straight through him. He had to remind himself that the statue was really a dead body made over into marble. Otherwise, he'd think that the flesh and blood man standing there really was Lucius.