The Iago Complex
This story is dedicated to HBAR, who wanted a comedy… but I should probably warn you that I have a rather twisted sense of humour. Ahem.
Chapter 1: A new beginning
Heavy breathing.
Bodies fall apart, panting. Sweaty sheets curl about them, tangling legs and arms together.
"That was…"
"What?"
"…"
"What? Severus don't you dare!"
"This was—"
"Don't do this – it was not a mistake!"
"I was going to say surprising. What did—?"
"Oh. Yes. Well. Surprising… obviously. But not a mistake."
A gentle, sweaty kiss… the cupping of a cheek. A tendril of hair brushed back from a worried brow. "Can I see more of you again?"
A smile, tentative and unsure… but growing in confidence. "Yes. Yes, of course – but…"
The frown deepens. "But…?"
"Can we just keep this… whatever this is… between ourselves for a while? It's all so brand new, and I don't want to…"
" Absolutely. I am the very soul of discretion."
"I love the way you say 'absolutely'… Can I stay tonight?"
"Absolutely."
oOo
"I gather that Snape has shacked up with Granger," Draco drawled, spearing a quail egg with his fork and popping it into his mouth.
"Hmmmm?" Lucius flicked his newspaper idly.
"Snape. Granger. Shagging. Each other, apparently."
"What a hideous prospect."
"Quite."
During the subsequent pause, Lucius Malfoy pretended to read an article about the latest winner of Witch Weekly's 'Most Potente Potioneer Award'. The seconds dragged by, marked by the slow ticking of the large clock on the wall of the breakfast room.
Lucius cast a careful look at his son from beneath his eyelashes. They had barely spoken since Draco had arrived at the Manor at an unacceptably late hour the previous night, bearing a bottle of Old Ogden's Superior and a copy of the letter that Lucius had received from Narcissa's solicitors the day before. They had consumed the whiskey in near silence, and Lucius had refused to discuss anything beyond the upcoming Ministry elections and the infallibility of Pelliwigs' Patented Anti-Dandruff Preparation before sending the boy upstairs to bed.
Draco still wore his hair swept back from his face, as he had done at school, and his features were carefully schooled into a mask of polite interest, his heavy-lidded eyes focused entirely on the range of delicacies that the house-elves had prepared for their brunch. Lucius flicked his attention back to the newspaper in his hands.
Draco had begun to run to fat recently. His quilted dressing gown was pulled tightly about his girth, the silk straining slightly about his waist. Boredom and inactivity did not suit the young man.
"And you know this fascinating piece of tittle-tattle, how?"
Draco smirked, chewing slowly. "Parkinson heard it from Greengrass, who heard it from Davis, who heard it from Bulstrode, who heard it from Zabini, who inferred it from something that Nott said."
Lucius cocked his eyebrow slowly. "Nott?"
Draco leaned forward and captured another egg. "Nott is working at the School as one of the Charms professors now," he sniffed, popping the egg into his mouth. The house-elves were definitely getting better at soft boiling them.
His father quirked an eyebrow and essayed a small sneer. "I see the Notts have fallen so low as to enter the…" A dramatic pause for suitable effect. "... service professions."
Draco snorted. "Nevertheless, a reliable source," the boy continued, taking a judicious bite out of a lightly toasted crumpet. "He always did have a soft spot for Mu—" His father shot him a swift and piercing look. "—uggleborns," Draco finished smoothly, barely missing a beat, nonchalantly tracing his fingers over the fine silver tines of his fork.
"According to Nott, Snape was practically fawning over her in the Three Broomsticks last night," he added unnecessarily.
"Fawning?" Lucius' eyebrow rose.
Draco's mouth twisted. "Apparently, he bought her cognac and talked with her all evening. There was some… physical proximity."
"How entirely revolting," Lucius turned another page in his newspaper, wondering why the news of such a supposed liaison had reached Draco quite so quickly. "I should have thought that Severus was far too… experienced… to behave in such a fashion." He flicked another quick glance at his son before taking a sip from his teacup, wincing slightly at the scalding temperature of the liquid. "And with Granger, you say? I would never have thought it possible. Buck-toothed, dowdy little thing. Potter's friend, wasn't she? I barely knew her."
If Draco noted this latest example of his father's selective amnesia on the subject of Granger's incarceration at the Manor, he was clearly far too polite to comment.
Instead, the younger man hummed a little in agreement and selected a small devilled kidney from the silver platter, twirling it slightly on the end of his fork. "She tamed the mane and had her teeth done in the fourth year. But she is still an appalling harridan with a vicious temper and an overbearingly detestable addiction to her own intelligence." He ate the kidney. "I cannot imagine what Severus sees in her."
Lucius carefully took a sip from his coffee and replaced the cup in its saucer, refusing to allow his eyebrows to rise. So that was it, then? "I'm sorry to see that you are so upset, my dear boy," he said indifferently, turning another page.
Draco's cheeks took on a faint pinkish tinge, but he remained impressively impassive. Lucius tensed slightly, waiting for the pup's next move.
"A passing fancy, nothing more," Draco said eventually. "Try the kidneys; they are excellent."
Lucius grunted, shifting his position slightly in the uncomfortable chair. "I do not care for offal, thank you."
oOo
Silence descended, broken only by the faint sounds of fork and knife on plate, the gentle rattle of cup on saucer, and the rustle of Lucius' paper.
Draco looked about him at the faded wallpaper and the cracked paint on the patio windows. His eyes wandered further. The bright morning sunlight was fighting its way into the room through windowpanes that were grimy and marked in places by dirt and spiders' webs. Aside from the polished mahogany table at which they sat, the rest of the room looked… neglected. The various paintings on the walls were hanging slightly askew and dust had collected on the frames' edges. The wood of the sideboard needed a good polish. The silver of the various hunting trophies and candelabras sitting on it was tarnishing.
Indeed, Draco realised, once one had sniffed beyond the aromas of the lovely cooked breakfast, the room even smelt uncared for, a combination of stale aromas and unhealthy damp. This, coupled with the crumpled parchment letter in his pyjama's breast pocket and the recent news from Hogwarts, spurred him onwards.
He took another leisurely look about the room, making sure that he was observed by his father, before casually saying, "Are you having trouble with your house-elves, Father?"
His father did not reply, but the knuckles gripping the sides of the upturned newspaper whitened, and the broadsheet shook slightly in Lucius' grip.
Taking a silent breath, Draco pressed further. "And what do you propose to do in the face of mother's abandonment?"
oOo
For a moment, Lucius considered ignoring him, but Draco reached into his dressing gown and withdrew a hatefully familiar envelope, placing it with precision on the table top by the side of Lucius' teacup.
He lowered the paper and raised an eyebrow.
"I know that she left you last month," Draco said. "I know that she took the house-elves with her – you ordered this breakfast in, didn't you?"
The eyebrow rose higher. The eye beneath it was fixed and unblinking.
Thus encouraged, Draco leaned forward. Lucius could see the faint flush on the boy's cheeks spreading and deepening. Draco had never found hiding his emotions easy.
"What would you say, Father, if I asked you to help me, but in helping me, you would also help yourself?"
oooOOOOoooooOOOOooo
Standard disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Please don't sue me. This story would not have been possible without the support of beaweasley2 and clairvoyant, who are both fabulous...