All Sense of Reason
The characters all belong to JKR.
The song belongs to Elton John and Tim Rice. Please don't sue. No infringement is intended. This is my first finished Harry Potter Fanfic so please be kind.
The song is "Like Father, Like Son" from the musical Aida.
Warning: Songfic, not beta'd. I hope no one else has done this, and if they have I apologize.
Some HG/DM, but not really, song lyrics in , sorry about formatting, I'm still working on it.
Spoilers: Not really, and I've only read Books 1-3
Time: End of 7th year, the night before graduation
*********
Like father, like son / Like father, like son.
Draco Malfoy sat at the table in the Slytherin common room gazing absently into the fire. Tomorrow was graduation day and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. Looking ahead the only thing that the young man could see was suffering and pain, lots of pain. He glanced up just as a third-year came in through the painting, tripped over a pile of books, and sprawled on the floor. Draco smirked absently and returned to his thoughts only to be interrupted again by the sound of the same third- year stepping over to him and mumbling quietly.
"Speak up!" Draco snapped.
"S-sorry, sir. B-b-but Professor Dumbledore says that your father is here and that he w-wants to s-sp-speak to you."
"Blast." Draco stood up and glared at the hapless boy, "In Dumbledore's office I suppose?"
"Y-yes, sir."
He grabbed his cloak from the chair and hurried out through the doorway. This was simply spectacular: a lovely conversation with his thrice-damned father in Dumbledore's office the night before graduation. Perhaps the only thing that could make it better would be Potter and his friends performing ballet in the background. *Hermione*…no, best not to think about that now. The halls were empty this late in the evening, as the seventh-years prepared for graduation and the other students packed to return home for the summer.
Arriving at Dumbledore's door, he suddenly realized that he did not possess the password. Draco reached up to knock, when the door swung open and the Headmaster stepped out.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, there you are. Your father and I were just about to despair of your arrival. Go on up; he's waiting for you there."
Draco nodded and walked in to see his father facing the window, staring into the night.
"You wished to see me, Father?"
Don't come on so cocksure boy, you can't escape your genes. / No point in feeling pure boy, your background intervenes. / Now listen good and listen straight, you're not the master of your fate. / To this you must be reconciled, you'll always be your father's child. / At times acclaimed, at times reviled, / You'll wind up doing just what I've done, / Like father, like son.
"Ah, my son, my heir. So good of you to grace me with your presence." Lucius Malfoy turned around and apprised his child with a jaded eye. "We have much to discuss this night."
Draco laughed unpleasantly. "And you plan to do it in Dumbledore's office? I would have thought better of you, Father."
The older Malfoy stepped up to his son, "Don't take that tone with me, boy." He pulled out his wand and muttered a spell under his breath. "No one can overhear us now." Lucius paused and returned to his place by the window. "As you are well aware, the Dark Lord is wondering when I will present you to him. I think that tomorrow evening will be an excellent time. We will apparate home from Hogsmeade after the ceremony and then go to meet him."
"No."
Don't assume your vices get handed down the line. / That a parent's blood suffices to condemn the child's design. / I've done wrong, I can't deny, but at least I know that I / Shouldn't blame that on my stock, this may come as quite a shock / But I'm no chip off any block. I wouldn't wish those words on anyone: / Like father, like son.
"What?" Lucius gasped. Was his son refusing him? Surely he had misunderstood. "You don't wish to go tomorrow? Yes, perhaps the day will be stressful. Dumbledore tells me that you achieved top marks in Potions and Charms, but lost to that mudblood friend of Potter's in Transfiguration and Arithmancy."
"Her name is Hermione and don't call her a mudblood. And I mean I won't go tomorrow or the day after that, or any day after that. You'll be waiting a long time, Father, if you expect me to go crawling on my hands and knees to *Voldemort*." Draco spat out the last bit and stepped to the other side of Dumbledore's desk. He did not want to be in the direct path of his father's rage when the words finally sunk in.
Lucius paled considerably and stood there silently for a minute.
Son, you're nervous, take my hand. / All is settled, all is planned. / You've got the world at your command, / I don't think you understand.
"Draco, be reasonable."
"I am being reasonable. My reason tells me that serving Voldemort will only get me a serious case of dead in the near future." Draco shook his head. "How can you do it, Father? The man is a snake!"
"He is also your Lord! And you will be respectful." Lucius moved away from the window and leaned over the desk looking his son in the eye. "Listen to me very carefully, boy." After grabbing Draco's chin, he spoke slowly and softly, "If you don't obey me, you will wind up with a serious case of dead in the near future anyway."
I appreciate too well, the squalor at which you excel. / It isn't very hard to tell, evil's a distinctive smell.
The younger Malfoy pulled away from his father's hand and backed up against the wall. "I won't go. I will not be like you. I will not submit to that creature. I will make my own decisions." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or his father.
Without warning, Lucius gracefully leapt over the desk and lifted the boy up by his robes to eye-level. "I think not." He dropped him to the floor and pointed his wand at him. "You have one last chance, Draco."
"No, sir, it is you who have one last chance." Draco rolled to the side and fled the room while his father stood there too surprised to move.
He's lost all sense of reason, and why? Some [mudblood] slut. / Not only is that treason, some doors are slamming shut. / Just like me, he's found that flesh can excite but will enmesh.
Watch me rid him of this blight, once the harlot's out of sight, / Then I think he will see the light. / He won't walk back to daddy, he will run.
The silence in Dumbledore's office was deafening. Malfoy set his wand down on the desk and slumped into the chair. What had gone wrong? It was supposed to be so simple. Tell his son that Voldemort wanted to officially meet him and induct him into the Death Eaters. Wait for an agreement and that would be that. No, instead he discovers that his son and Hermione are…oh, he didn't know what they were, but it was going to be stopped. *Immediately*. His son had seemed distant over the holidays, but he had never imagined anything like this. He was going to choose a mudblood over his family? Not while Lucius lived.
He stalked back over to the window and frowned into the night. This was just a small set back; plans would continue as before. Draco would be a Death Eater. Lucius would be the next Dark Lord. He just had to bide his time. His father would be so proud.
Like father, like son. / Like father, like son.
The End
The characters all belong to JKR.
The song belongs to Elton John and Tim Rice. Please don't sue. No infringement is intended. This is my first finished Harry Potter Fanfic so please be kind.
The song is "Like Father, Like Son" from the musical Aida.
Warning: Songfic, not beta'd. I hope no one else has done this, and if they have I apologize.
Some HG/DM, but not really, song lyrics in , sorry about formatting, I'm still working on it.
Spoilers: Not really, and I've only read Books 1-3
Time: End of 7th year, the night before graduation
*********
Like father, like son / Like father, like son.
Draco Malfoy sat at the table in the Slytherin common room gazing absently into the fire. Tomorrow was graduation day and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. Looking ahead the only thing that the young man could see was suffering and pain, lots of pain. He glanced up just as a third-year came in through the painting, tripped over a pile of books, and sprawled on the floor. Draco smirked absently and returned to his thoughts only to be interrupted again by the sound of the same third- year stepping over to him and mumbling quietly.
"Speak up!" Draco snapped.
"S-sorry, sir. B-b-but Professor Dumbledore says that your father is here and that he w-wants to s-sp-speak to you."
"Blast." Draco stood up and glared at the hapless boy, "In Dumbledore's office I suppose?"
"Y-yes, sir."
He grabbed his cloak from the chair and hurried out through the doorway. This was simply spectacular: a lovely conversation with his thrice-damned father in Dumbledore's office the night before graduation. Perhaps the only thing that could make it better would be Potter and his friends performing ballet in the background. *Hermione*…no, best not to think about that now. The halls were empty this late in the evening, as the seventh-years prepared for graduation and the other students packed to return home for the summer.
Arriving at Dumbledore's door, he suddenly realized that he did not possess the password. Draco reached up to knock, when the door swung open and the Headmaster stepped out.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, there you are. Your father and I were just about to despair of your arrival. Go on up; he's waiting for you there."
Draco nodded and walked in to see his father facing the window, staring into the night.
"You wished to see me, Father?"
Don't come on so cocksure boy, you can't escape your genes. / No point in feeling pure boy, your background intervenes. / Now listen good and listen straight, you're not the master of your fate. / To this you must be reconciled, you'll always be your father's child. / At times acclaimed, at times reviled, / You'll wind up doing just what I've done, / Like father, like son.
"Ah, my son, my heir. So good of you to grace me with your presence." Lucius Malfoy turned around and apprised his child with a jaded eye. "We have much to discuss this night."
Draco laughed unpleasantly. "And you plan to do it in Dumbledore's office? I would have thought better of you, Father."
The older Malfoy stepped up to his son, "Don't take that tone with me, boy." He pulled out his wand and muttered a spell under his breath. "No one can overhear us now." Lucius paused and returned to his place by the window. "As you are well aware, the Dark Lord is wondering when I will present you to him. I think that tomorrow evening will be an excellent time. We will apparate home from Hogsmeade after the ceremony and then go to meet him."
"No."
Don't assume your vices get handed down the line. / That a parent's blood suffices to condemn the child's design. / I've done wrong, I can't deny, but at least I know that I / Shouldn't blame that on my stock, this may come as quite a shock / But I'm no chip off any block. I wouldn't wish those words on anyone: / Like father, like son.
"What?" Lucius gasped. Was his son refusing him? Surely he had misunderstood. "You don't wish to go tomorrow? Yes, perhaps the day will be stressful. Dumbledore tells me that you achieved top marks in Potions and Charms, but lost to that mudblood friend of Potter's in Transfiguration and Arithmancy."
"Her name is Hermione and don't call her a mudblood. And I mean I won't go tomorrow or the day after that, or any day after that. You'll be waiting a long time, Father, if you expect me to go crawling on my hands and knees to *Voldemort*." Draco spat out the last bit and stepped to the other side of Dumbledore's desk. He did not want to be in the direct path of his father's rage when the words finally sunk in.
Lucius paled considerably and stood there silently for a minute.
Son, you're nervous, take my hand. / All is settled, all is planned. / You've got the world at your command, / I don't think you understand.
"Draco, be reasonable."
"I am being reasonable. My reason tells me that serving Voldemort will only get me a serious case of dead in the near future." Draco shook his head. "How can you do it, Father? The man is a snake!"
"He is also your Lord! And you will be respectful." Lucius moved away from the window and leaned over the desk looking his son in the eye. "Listen to me very carefully, boy." After grabbing Draco's chin, he spoke slowly and softly, "If you don't obey me, you will wind up with a serious case of dead in the near future anyway."
I appreciate too well, the squalor at which you excel. / It isn't very hard to tell, evil's a distinctive smell.
The younger Malfoy pulled away from his father's hand and backed up against the wall. "I won't go. I will not be like you. I will not submit to that creature. I will make my own decisions." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or his father.
Without warning, Lucius gracefully leapt over the desk and lifted the boy up by his robes to eye-level. "I think not." He dropped him to the floor and pointed his wand at him. "You have one last chance, Draco."
"No, sir, it is you who have one last chance." Draco rolled to the side and fled the room while his father stood there too surprised to move.
He's lost all sense of reason, and why? Some [mudblood] slut. / Not only is that treason, some doors are slamming shut. / Just like me, he's found that flesh can excite but will enmesh.
Watch me rid him of this blight, once the harlot's out of sight, / Then I think he will see the light. / He won't walk back to daddy, he will run.
The silence in Dumbledore's office was deafening. Malfoy set his wand down on the desk and slumped into the chair. What had gone wrong? It was supposed to be so simple. Tell his son that Voldemort wanted to officially meet him and induct him into the Death Eaters. Wait for an agreement and that would be that. No, instead he discovers that his son and Hermione are…oh, he didn't know what they were, but it was going to be stopped. *Immediately*. His son had seemed distant over the holidays, but he had never imagined anything like this. He was going to choose a mudblood over his family? Not while Lucius lived.
He stalked back over to the window and frowned into the night. This was just a small set back; plans would continue as before. Draco would be a Death Eater. Lucius would be the next Dark Lord. He just had to bide his time. His father would be so proud.
Like father, like son. / Like father, like son.
The End