LbN: Alright, here's the third installment! Happy reading :)!

True Colors: Draco

Draco set his forehead against the black oak of the front door after closing it. The auditors had been there, again, for the seventh Saturday in a row after The Battle. None of them seemed to understand that he and his mother simply wanted to be left alone. After all three Malfoys were acquitted, Lucius had up and left. Draco knew where he was, but pretended he didn't for his mother's sake. Apparently, his departure signified open season for the Ministry auditors, who had taken immense pleasure in visiting the Manor and confiscating things. They'd gotten all of the Dark objects out at Draco's request and with his help, but they still didn't trust them. Draco didn't blame them, but he would like a quiet weekend to himself. His weeks were filled with job searching, and so far no one wanted a reformed Junior Death Eater. This being the case, he could do with a relaxing weekend; but the Ministry wasn't quite ready to stop babysitting his family. He'd had to escort them around the house, with no room off limits, showing them everything. The second day had been the worst. One their first visit, they had simply taken inventory, confiscating things that would pose an immediate problem should either Draco or Narcissa decide to follow in Lucius' footsteps. The second time they'd come, they got down to business. They'd started in the downstairs dining room, ransacking their china cabinet and only finding a few poisons hidden under a panel. They'd worked their way through the kitchen (more poisons, and a cursed knife), office (blackmail papers, Death Eater documents) and the living room. They'd struck gold there, finding cursed hand bells (which Draco happened to be quite fond of), a cornucopia of Dark Arts manuals, another Hand of Glory (Draco neglected to tell them that this had been his), and six odd orb-looking things that Draco honestly had no idea as to the purpose of. They'd also checked the downstairs library and guest rooms, not finding much in either place. They'd come back the next week to flush out upstairs (Draco noted with a grim smile how bad things must have gotten for him to not have been embarrassed at the PlayWiz magazines found in his room…), and the fourth week had been spent with Draco taking them on an extensive tour of the hidden passages and panels of the house. The fifth week they'd given him back his hand bells, saying the only curse on them wasn't a dangerous one; it simply made the listener fall asleep. Draco couldn't shake the suspicion that his father had used those on him as a child. After giving them back to Draco, the auditors had gone to look in the attic. Last week and this week, they'd done two more sweeps of the house, and Draco had hoped that would be the end of it, but they'd informed him that they'd be coming to talk to him about the findings the next week. It was all very stressful.

The blonde walked into the mansion's upper sitting room and smiled, sighing. His mother had fallen asleep on the couch again while reading. She let him show the auditors around, stating that she hadn't the energy. Draco had a feeling she just didn't want to know the extent of her husband's…collection. He pulled a large black mink blanket over her and turned to walk out.

"Darling? Are they gone?"

"Yes Mother," Draco turned back to her. "I didn't mean to wake you. Will you be at dinner?"

"Of course," Narcissa smiled at him. "I wouldn't miss our evening time together. Now, you've been dealing with those stuffy pigs all day; go enjoy yourself."

"You should join me," Draco offered. "You haven't been out in ages."

"I think I'm going to finish my nap. But I'll see you at dinner, promise."

"Alright, if you're sure."

Draco walked back to the entrance hall and grabbed his cloak. With one last glance upstairs, he pulled the black oak doors open and left the house for a walk.

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