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It Couldn't Be

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Draco Malfoy had lived a hard life following the Second Wizarding War. He had spent time in Azkaban for his crimes during the war, he had been shunned by his classmates. His mother had turned and ran, and his father, he was given a life sentence in Azkaban. 

As soon as his time in Azkaban was up, as soon as he was declared a free man, a free wizard, he ran. He ran from the Wizarding world. He ran from the ghosts of his past. He ran from the demons that lurked around every corner just daring him to see how far he could push before the horrors of his actions caught up. 

It felt strange to him that it was a city in Scotland where he found his anonymity. He had thought that he would stand out, his English accent, his stark blonde hair, his upper class attitude. But there was this peacefulness that he was able to sink into, a peacefulness that he couldn’t find anywhere else. And that peacefulness came from the busyness that was Edinburgh. 

He kept to himself most of the time. Working a quiet job in a bookshop, a new name, a new attitude. A fresh start that was what it all was. He knew that it wasn’t going to be the perfect life now, he would still carry the guilt and nightmare inducing memories. 

It was often during the quiet, downtime at the bookshop that Draco would start thinking about everything he wished he could he could change. The one thing that he never thought about changing was his relationship with his father. He was more relaxed now that he knew his father was never going to see the light of day. 

Or at least that was what he had always believed until he looked up one day as the bell at the door of the shop he worked in rang. He glanced up and felt his world fall apart. It took only a moment for the realisation to set in, the man in front of him, Draco recognised him. 

Take away the long hair, take away the long cloaks, and the cane for his life wand, and the man in front of him was his father. Only this man looked slightly different. For one his hair was short and darker, and his clothes that only a muggle would wear. However there was no denying it, the man was his father. 

Draco had never realised the fear that he felt when he was in the presence of his father. His palms began to sweat, his heart started to race and all he wanted was to run for the hills. He wanted to hide, he wanted to get as far away from the man as he could. 

“Jackson Brodie, I’m looking for Miss MacIntyre,” the man said and even the voice was similar. It was a little bit different, but Draco figured that it could just be his memories that made it seem different. 

“Brodie, is that right?” He said he wanted to see if he would recognise him. But there was only a nod in return, there was no hint that the man was Lucius Malfoy. “Okay. She’s in the back, I’ll just get her,” Draco was amazed by the fact that his voice never broke. He didn’t want to lead anyone into the path of his dad’s anger but he had no evidence. He had no way to prove his suspicion until he could contact the one person who could confirm if it was his father standing in front of him. 

It was late on into the night, hours after he had seen the man that he believed to be his father, that Draco finally gathered the courage to make the floo call. He did not want to speak to anyone from the Wizarding World, he especially didn’t want to speak to Potter, but he knew that the man was the one who would hold the answer that he was looking for. 

He was nervous as he called out into the living room of the Potter household. He knew that the man should be at home, Andromeda had told him the nights that she would have Teddy and the nights she was free. As much as he tried to stay away he still kept some connection with his family. 

“Malfoy! What in Merlin’s beard are you doing here?” Potter suddenly exclaimed after a moment. It had taken the auror a minute to walk into the living room, and Draco could see the clear sights of tiredness, and he felt slightly guilty to be disturbing the man. 

“My father, is he still in Azkaban?” Draco asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly. He needed to know if the man who had introduced himself as Jackson Brodie and hadn’t even taken a second look was who he claimed to be. 

He wanted to be wrong. He wanted Lucius Malfoy to be locked up. Kept away from everyone he could harm with the threat of a dementors kiss. 

“He’s still in there, Malfoy. He’s not getting out, and even if he did, he wouldn’t make it far.” It was all the reassurance that he needed. He had been wrong. It was a case of mistaken identity. He had been right to keep it all to himself at work that day. 

“Right, well, I best be off. Tell Teddy I’ll see him at Andromeda’s next week.” 

And just like that everything felt better. It all felt safer and Draco pulled his head back from the fire and settled back on his haunches. He hadn’t realised how much of an effect the man had had on him. Now he just had to keep it in mind if he ever saw Jackson Brodie again.