Malfoyism – The Talk

Lucius was sitting in his study, reading the Daily Prophet, when he heard the knock at the door. Looking up, he wondered who dared to disturb him on his daily routine.

"Come in," he exclaimed, leaning back in his chair.

Slowly, the door was opened and the tall, slender frame of Draco appeared on the threshold. Lucius stood up to greet his 18-year-old son who took hesitant steps further into the room.

"Draco, it's good to see you again," Lucius said softly, noticing the austere look of his heir.

"Hello father," Draco replied, "I just came home, mother told me I'd find you here…may I talk to you about, um, something?"

"Of course, shall we go to the parlour? It's more comfortable in there. Or maybe the drawing room?"

"No, not the drawing room," said Draco hastily, "I, err… that place still gives me the creeps. And mum's in the parlour with… her." He stressed the last word because he didn't know how he was supposed to call her.

"You might call your aunt by her name," Lucius interceded, the corners of his lips twitching. Not long ago, he himself struggled about how to deal with his wife's reinstated sister Andromeda, but seeing her more and more often made it become almost routine.

"Fine, then… Andromeda. Am I supposed to call her aunt?"

"Only if you want to. Personally, I feel like you're too old to do that." He paused. "I presume you didn't come to talk about Andromeda?"

"Err, no, of course not," said Draco, "it's about, um, Pansy Parkinson? I've been seeing her…" He made a questioning face.

"Yes, your mother mentioned it, once or twice… or maybe thirty-seven times." This time, Lucius couldn't help but smile. "Don't you want to take a seat? And have a drink?" Years and years of practice made it easy on him to wipe off the smile from his face, when suddenly he realized that Draco might be intimidated.

Draco nodded and sat down. His father conjured two crystal glasses and reached out for the bottle of Firewhiskey that stood on his desk. Draco's eyes widened, he had never been allowed to drink Firewhiskey before. Not that he had obeyed, of course – attending the Slytherin common room parties, no one could escape the illicit drinks.

"Why do you look so surprised?"

"You never allowed me to drink Firewhiskey," Draco replied, smiling timidly while taking the glass.

"Ah, that was because you were a child, Draco. I see now that you are grown up, coming to me, talking about ladies. So, what is it you wanted to tell me about Miss Parkinson?" Lucius raised his glass silently before taking a sip.

Draco twiddled with his glass, staring at it for a moment before bringing it up to his lips. The burning sensation of the strong liquor encouraged him to bring up what he wanted to say.

"We've been seeing each other for quite a long time now, and she always seemed to admire me. I have to admit I wasn't a gentleman all the time," he snorted, "but we got along quite well, and after a while, I even enjoyed being with her."

Lucius nodded, but didn't interfere.

"We still have this, err, relationship going on and she still looks up to me like I'm someone, even after all that has happened, and I…," he took a deep breath, "I'm tired of her. I really am. Tired of her being so clingy. Literally clingy as well as emotionally. I feel disgusted when I have to touch her."

"Now, now, Draco, don't say that about a woman," Lucius drawled.

"But it's the truth!" Draco exclaimed. "I can't stand being around her, but then, sometimes, when I don't see her, I think I'm missing her. Twisted, isn't it?"
"Just like life. So you came here to ask me for what, advice?"
Now it was Draco who nodded. Lucius put his glass on the desk.

"I don't think I can help you with that, Draco. I was a lucky man, I knew I loved Narcissa when I first saw her. And it hasn't changed, ever since, there was no single day that I felt tired of her. If you want my advice, just let me tell you that after what you said, I don't think Miss Parkinson is going to make you happy. You had to endure so much over the last two years and heaven knows I'm not proud of the pain and the suffering I've caused you, but I'm proud of you because you lived through it. You deserve to be happy, now more than ever, and if you can't stand being around her, she's not the one for you."

As the memories of the time of torture surfaced in his thoughts, he buried his head in his hands.

They sat in silence for a moment before Lucius straightened up again, smiling weekly at his son.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I wish I could have been a better father to you. Now I can't even give you advice. Perhaps you should ask your mother, women are said to be the better advisers when it comes to relationships."
Draco shook his head. "No, I think you've helped a lot. Besides, I wanted a man's opinion. Your opinion. Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get something done." He got up and strode over to the door. When he had his hand on the doorknob, he heard his father clearing his throat.

"Draco? I love you."

Looking over his shoulder, he replied "Love you, too, dad."

A/N: This is an excerpt from a story that I'm writing for my own amusement (mainly about Lucius/Narcissa, but which I'll probably never post here or anywhere else), but I figured it could stand alone and still make a tiny bit of sense. English is not my native language, so I'm rather clumsy with the words, please forgive me, but the Potterverse for me exists only in English. And I didn't have a beta-reader.

When I was browsing through the recently posted Draco-stories, I noticed that most of them were about Draco/Hermione and argh! I can't handle this. Doesn't anyone want to write me a proper Draco/Astoria story? Or can anyone show me one? So, I thought about how Draco came from Parkinson to Greengrass, and I came up with this. If the reviews aren't too flamy, I might think about continuing from here on.