Of all times for a lack of inspiration this had to be the worst.
Draco stood up from his father's - no, HIS large, heavily lacquered, hand carved mahogany desk to pace around the also large and similarly exquisite office that he had acquired out of the blue as of late. He would say 'acquired' only because he was still in complete and utter denial of the events of the night before and why it was that he was writing an obituary in the first place. If he was honest with himself he would refer to the desk as being inherited. Just like everything else. The books in the bookcases, the candelabras sitting on the dining table, the bricks that made up the walkways, everything. Even the things that he hated. The object that won most of his detestation being what hung just above his desk. A portrait of his father. That tidbit of unpleasantness would have to be taken care of. And soon. Like, now.
Abandoning the half written obituary, Draco walked over to the portrait and yanked.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
He took out his wand, deciding to use magic instead to get the thing off the wall. Maybe a little more force was called for. Some things just can't be dismantled and replaced lightly. That he had learned from his father.
Whispering a charm and flicking his wrist he tried again to remove the portrait. This time it came hurdling off the wall across the room just barely missing him before it went crashing into a bookcase, sending its contents sprawling out onto the floor.
Cursing, he made long strides across the room to the mess. Just his luck. He never was too good at charms but thought it would have improved by now, even with a lack of practice from Hogwarts.
It would be three years since he graduated from the school. Going back for his final year had been hard after the battle. It seemed as though his family couldn't go anywhere for some time because of the sneers and occasional scuffles that broke out. Him and his father had gotten into a fight pretty roughly once while his mother had been held back from defending them by a few men. Let's just say they regretted it. What did that muggle book say? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Yeah. Those thugs didn't stand a chance.
A knock on the door came and he stood up straight, asking who it was that was knocking even though it was so obvious. Him and his mother were alone in the manor now. Of course it was her.
"Darling, I heard a crash. Are you alright?"
"Fine, mother."
"May I come in?" Oh, Merlin. He looked over at the torn leather bound books and painting lying in shambles but bade her enter anyway.
The stunning witch came sauntering into the room. As soon as she saw the rubble her hands flew to her mouth. "What happened?!"
"I - well - I - ," Draco wasn't usually one for such failures of speech. His mother had made sure of that, teaching him to speak clearly because speech is the most important and direct form of communication and a hugely important part of the impressions you make. Yet, here he was. Stuttering. Stuttering! He hid his face in embarrassment, deciding to give up all together on an explanation. He couldn't lie because she could see right through him.
His struggle didn't go unnoticed. "Don't stutter."
"Sorry, mother."
"What where you trying to do?" Narcissa walked over to the mess and lifted up the canvas. A knowing expression came over her face and with a swish of her wand she set all the books back in their places and repaired the ripped oil painting, setting it up against the bookshelf. She turned and walked over to him, taking his hands in her own. "I know it's been hard, sweetie, but we will get through this. Together."
He gave her fragile hands a gentle squeeze and leaned forward to kiss her on the head. She let out a soft moan and pulled him close. Not your normal motherly gesture but could the Malfoy's be considered normal? Draco didn't think of their relationship as being part of the usual. Since he was a child he looked at the relationships that other boys his age shared with their mothers. Not with envy but with pity, in a way.
That pity only grew as he got older. At some times it would turn into confusion. It is socially acceptable for a child to fall asleep in his mother's arms but is it acceptable for a teenager, a young man to do the same? Or just the opposite, have his mother fall asleep in HIS arms? Draco's father didn't think so. He had heard his parents arguing about it multiple times. Lucius would challenge Narcissa's motive and she would get offended, probably too scared to admit the strangeness of her actions and her son's.
"I love you, Draco." She cooed into his ear.
"I love you too, mum." He replied.
She let go of him then and turned around. "Be down for dinner soon?"
He took advantage of the time that she was turned away and watched her hips sway from side to side as she moved. "I'll be down in a bit."
By the time Draco made it to the dining room it had been much longer than a bit. Narcissa was sitting at the table waiting expectantly and she looked up and smiled when he walked in. "You were a while."
He felt guilty for having left her waiting for so long. "I was finishing up. Writing obituaries is a lot harder than it looks."
She laughed darkly and gestured to the seat across from her. "Are you going to sit or eat standing?"
"I'll sit, thank you."
He did just that and picked up a fork. Just as soon as it had been picked up it clattered back onto the table again, breaking the dead silence.
Narcissa looked up from her plate at Draco. His gaze was fixed on something across the table. In the blink of an eye she reached out a dainty hand and the item that had caught his interest was in her pocket.
Silence fell over the Malfoys for an everlasting minute before Narcissa spoke. "It's not what it looks like, dear."
"Then what is it?" He sat up in his chair and slid his plate away from himself, having suddenly lost his appetite.
She reached across the table and gave his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as if to say that everything would be alright. He recoiled and looked her in the eye. "Was that...arsenic?"
Narcissa's heart was pounding at the speed of light and she could feel the color evacuating her cheeks. She had wanted to tell him; had planned on telling him, but had never wanted him to find out in this way. He was a smart young man and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. That is, if he hadn't already, which by the looks of it he had. Oh, how stupid she had been to leave that bottle out in one of the most obvious of places. She was lucky, really, that it had been him who discovered it and not some mourning dinner guest. The havoc that would ensue would be terrible. She could see the headlines. "PROMINENT WITCH POISONS HUSBAND TO BE IN INCESTUOUS RELATIONSHIP WITH SON"
A mixture of bewilderment and disbelief was glowing in Draco's eyes. And to her shock, a smile started to spread across his face.
"You...witch..." Each syllable was drawn out on his tongue and savored there like a delicious desert.
"I did it for you. You must understand." She said, fidgeting in her seat and adjusting her gown nervously.
His mother's actions shocked him, true. But she was full of surprises and had always been. Lucius had been a cruel man even to his own family but that had only strengthened mother and son bonds. Draco stood from his chair and took Narcissa's hands in his own. "I understand."
Relief overcame the matron and she sank into her son's strong harms. He gave her the most meaningful of hugs and kissed her on the cheek.
A burning flame of lust came ablaze in the witch's gut and she let go of him but only for a second. "Live in sin with me." She ordered and brushed platinum hair out of his face.
"What are you suggesting that I do?" He asked, raising a wicked eyebrow.
"I'm suggesting that you make love to me. Cleanse my evilness with more evil. I've dug my hole and now you can assist me with digging deeper." Narcissa drew so close to her offspring's ear that her lips brushed with his burning flesh and she whispered "Fuck me, Draco."
That was all that it took to set his member erect and he swept her off of her feet in one smooth motion. She giggled and put her arms around him as he set her on the table.
Her eyes grew wide and she looked around uncertainly. "Please, not here. This isn't proper."
"Mum, I've been waiting for this for Merlin knows how long. You're not going to make me wait any longer." With that he undid his pants and took out his hardness.
Her expression of uncertainty quickly grew into awe as she looked at it. To put it lightly, the thing was huge, much like his father's had been.
Draco smiled at his mother's reaction and started to hike up her skirts. Underneath the layers was...
Nothing.
The nerve that it must take to go galavanting around with not a scrap covering certain parts must be staggering, he decided. But he was a lazy person and if it made things easier when it came to fucking her, he was cool with it.
Slowly but surely he started to slide himself into her wet folds and moved himself in and out slowly. A moan of pleasure and impatience escaped her parted lips. "No need to be gentle. Your father was doing the same to me only at a much quicker pace the other night. It's not my first time."
It was his pleasure to comply. As much as he liked to torture her, he was also torturing himself.
He had only watched a woman being pleasured once before, but Pansy Parkinson had one of those positively annoying faces that he simple couldn't stand. Narcissa was different. Her face was the very embodiment of beauty and elegance. Even more so when contorted into an expression of pure ecstasy.
She started to rock her hips against him, urging him to go faster yet. He did so and that was all it took to send her over the edge.
A scream of pleasure erupted from her mouth and she took him out of her then bent forward to finish his climax. Placing her red lips on his hard cock, she started to slide up and down then glanced up at his expression. Smiling, she added teeth.
A moan came from deep within him as he drew nearer. He gripped her hair and started to move her faster. All at once it exploded over him like a firework. The pleasure was impossible to compare to anything that he had ever experienced before.
Narcissa smiled again and swallowed, quite satisfied with herself and dabbed at her lips with a napkin that she picked up from the table. Draco took the opportunity to dive down between her legs and started licking up her juices.
"You're so sweet," He muddled between licks and nips. "Like fresh honey on a hot summer day."
"Then you should taste yourself." Reluctantly, he abandoned his efforts on her clit and stood up to kiss her.
As his mouth came in contact with her's he described that he didn't taste all that swell, but on her mouth anything could be sweet.
They kissed passionately for a few minutes, their tongues battling to see who could be king of the hill before she spoke. "May we go up to my bed now so that we can make love to each other properly?"
"Your wish is my command, mother."
She led him up a flight of stairs to her bedroom that she had at once shared with his father. "You were made on that bed."
He laughed. "At least you're honest."
"I'm just saying." Cissy held up her hands in mock surrender. "But now, come and get me." And with that she was off sprinting towards the bed.
He took chase but his long legs were no match for her's. Just as she reached her mark he tackled her and had her pinned on the mattress.
"Well, well, son. What do you plan to do with me now?" A naughty smile crept across her lips.
"I plan to fuck you 'properly'" Draco said and slid back into his mother.
In the heart of Malfoy Manor, two of the same blood came together again in the flickering candlelight. Hot goo ran out of the man into his place of origin, sweat ran down hot skin and in the distance, outside a window, a star flew through the sky and over the horizon.
They fell asleep together that night, Draco curled up in his mother's loving arms. Though he thought that he was at peace, his troubles were with him still. As a result of his mother's doing his father's corpse lay rotting in a coffin, secrets and deep feelings had been revealed, sin had been committed. But in all honestly, he wouldn't redo anything. Not a single thing. Happiness had been found. This was what he wanted.