okay, i was reading your cursed child snippets, and dreamt in that world last night. so the trio were at green grass manor and draco had to leave for some reason but didn't want the kids to think they were unsupervised, so he left an illusion subroutine that would go off when it was either too quiet or too loud, an image of him would walk casually into the room where suspicious activity was taking place, look around disapprovingly, sigh deeply and leave. thank you for these snippets!!!
That feels entirely plausible tbh. Like I could just see my cc au Malfoy sitting at his desk going “okay how do I keep them alive while they’re here. okay, so most of the shit we got into was because of sheer adult negligence. So I’ll just never leave. This is fine.”
But then there will be times he absolutely has to leave. Like the time Potter himself calls him up because they found a dark artefact in a London basement and Malfoy’s the only one with the extensive academic knowledge on the subject able to identify it (well that and his father, but Luscious Malfoy would rather die than help the Ministry so no one asks him) and Astoria *tells* him just to go, it’ll be *fine*. She’s sitting upright today, in a comfortable chair close to the fire, wand out as she works on something beautiful with silk thread. And it’s not that he doesn’t *trust* her–or his son’s reverence for his mother. It’s just that…well…it’d make him *feel* better if she’d let him seal the house and shut off the floo…except she won’t and he won’t distress her by asking, so he does the next best thing he can think of. Because if he can’t be here, then he can at least cast a sentinel that Looks like him to be seen around the place.
That this is technically blood magic and technically possibly not entirely legal is neither here nor there.
Until the day something does happen and it ends in a duel with Potter standing back to back with him, the smoking debris of the drawing room drifting down around him. When Potter spies the sentinel–guarding the children like it’s supposed to–Potter just turns to him, and with profound and heartfelt understanding says, “Honestly, same.”
And if you’ll permit me to say, the Dial Tone Au and Cursed Child Au are totally the same universe. And given Dudley’s presence in Harry’s life, and Malfoy’s enforced presence through his son, that absolutely 100% means Dudley and Malfoy meet more than once. Like at Christmas when the Malfoys find themselves invited to the Burrow for Boxing Day and Malfoy wants to decline, he really wants to decline like he has done for the last few years. But Potter insists (actually his wife does) and even Astoria seems to want to go (…it’s lonely here, he knows, both their families having abandoned them for being muggle supporters…) and Scorpius all but *begs* so Malfoy finds himself standing stiffly behind Astoria’s chair (and he can’t help but be thankful to the Weasley woman for the subtle ways she manages Astoria, the way her needs are met without alienating pity) by the fire in this cramped ramshackle house his son is so in love with, drink in hand as he listens to the two women compare the latest fashion in Witch Weekly as chaos reigns around them and…
“He’s a bit of a stuck up git, isn’t he?” Dudley murmurs, low enough not to be heard by anyone but Harry as the two cousins sit at the table peeling potatoes. Harry could have done this in seconds with his wand but Dudley always feels alienated when there’s nothing he can do to help with dinner, so they sit and peel and talk about nothing in particular.
Harry looks up, absently pushing his glasses back up his nose to regard Malfoy. He looks stiff and out of place, dressed all in black as usual, eyes focused on nothing as he stands over Astoria–almost like a sentinel on guard…until she reaches up with a pale thin hand and squeezes his, and he looks down clasping hers in his, listening to what she has to say with such utter devotion before turning his attention to Molly Weasley with a smile so full of warmth Harry barely recognizes him…
“Oh I dunno,” Harry says, throwing a sliced potato into the pot. “I think he’s trying.”