Glacial odium

Summary: Lucius Malfoy is egotistical, manipulative and furtive. How far will he go to ensure that his son will be on his side forever? What has Draco given up to free himself of his father? He will have to give up his icy hatred for the world to realize what he was living without his whole life.

Note: I don't own anything that you know as being vaguely familiar. The plot is mine, and mine alone.

Glacial Odium


Glacial – adj. – 1. of or pertaining to glaciers or ice sheets. 2. Resulting from or associated with the action of ice or glaciers, a glacial terrain. 3. Characterized by the presence of ice in extensive masses or glaciers. 4. Bitterly cold, icy: a glacial winter wind. 5. Happening or moving extremely slowly: the work proceeded at a glacial pace. 6. Icily unsympathetic or immovable: a glacial stare, glacial indifference.

Odium – noun – 1. Intense hatred or dislike, especially towards a person or think regarded as contemptible, despicable or repugnant. 2. The reproach, discredit or opprobrium attaching to something hated or repugnant: he had to bear the odium of neglecting his family. 3. The state or quality of being hated


CHAPTER 1

He ran through a pair of large carved wooden doors after a slim girl dressed in only loose pair of jeans, a tank top and sneakers – hardly attire for a stormy and rainy night, even if it was warm. Her hair flew fiercely behind her whipping at her face, she ran with a purpose and with all the speed she could muster. She didn't get far before he caught her and pulled her harshly around seizing her upper arms with a severe force.

He glared down at her flushed features, "Running outside into a storm like this, I should have your head for this you obstinate little brat! Why are you trying to kill me?"

She peeled his hands off her upper arms and slid her petite hands into his and stopped giggling madly to answer, "I would never try to kill you, love," she drew the last word out as her face turned dark and playful as she kept her eyes locked to his, "But I would like to see you catch me!" calling as she sprinted away toward the lake.

Catching her was not the problem, running through the rain and watching the ground for tree roots and slippery mud were the problems at hand. She slowed her pace down when she reached the lake and turned back to see him catching up to her. The lake glistened in the moon light and crested in small waves from the whipping wind. At the shore she her breath caught in her throat– he was drenched, wearing no more than she was and the slightly muscled outline of his upper torso was covered in a semi-transparent button up shirt. He slowed at the foot of the lake and glowered at her. Sauntering up, he drooped his arms around her neck and replaced the unhappy façade with laughter as he pushed back some of the wet hair from her face.

"I'm actually more worried about you getting sick from your crazy antics, you know," he whispered almost inaudibly as he smoothed her hair out against her head.

She tilted her head up and gazed skeptically, "My, my, you finally care more about someone else than you care about your own well being - and your hair for that matter."

She wrinkled her nose impishly as he reclaimed his well-known haughty poise – which looked ridiculous in the rain. "You better watch your tongue," he paused dramatically and stood to his total height – which would have been frightening to another person in a different situation – then he drawled in a menacing low voice so much like his fathers, "or you will pay with…your…LIFE!" He quickly spun her around and started tickling her until they were both wet and muddy on the ground.

She regained her composure and pulled him closer to her wet body and let her fingers push some of his hair back from his forehead where it had been plastered by rain, "And wouldn't that be a terrible pity?"

He looked down at her seriously, and leaned into her ear, "No, it wouldn't," he paused to kiss her tender neck as she shivered in the warm night rain, "It would be the death of me," he swept her face up in his hand and pressed his lips over hers.

She pulled away slowly, "I bring out the best in you, and it's quite awful no one else knows how loving and gentile you really are." With a smile she leaned her forehead onto his chest, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and leaned up against a tree stump.

He closed his eyes and sighed, "You make me want to be a better person, and make me want to be so much stronger than I am. I'm so much weaker without you – you make living every passing day worth it, no matter how hard it is, you truly are my savior." He opened his eyes and looked down at her mud stained face and wiped away a clump off her nose with his thumb, "You know you really bring that out in people - their weaknesses."

She laughed lightly, "I do what?"

He embraced her body with his strong arms, "You make every man within about a mile weak..." He winked at her, "…in the knees, that is." He pulled her closer – if that was even possible and leaned in for another kiss.

His mind drifted back to where he was now, sitting at his kitchen table in the middle of his almost empty, bitter house. There were curtains, wood floors, but no one really lived here at all. He had not been a whole person in about a decade. He could have moved on but there was no desire. Desire had died when she eradicated his heart.

He slowly crept up to the ice covered window, and grazed his fingers on the frosty glass. He pulled his fingers away and shoved his hand back into his ridged wool coat. Most people would think having to wear a coat in a home was not normal, but this wasn't really a home. Just a place he got his mail and stayed for the night. The loss of heat was rather apropos seeing as how it matched his solid frozen heart and iron will, not to mention the ice storm outside.

Ten years after graduating from school, life had been difficult. Jobs were hard to come by, especially for him, but money was a mute matter. He still had his pride, but that was about it. He had no family and no friends. It was expected after he changed his mind. He never knew why he made the change after all those years. He would never give one person sole credit for everything.

He let his mind slip into the past – his memories were a tangled mess of anger, hate and jealousy entwined with love, adoration and devotion. Upon graduating from school he still had everything he ever wanted – minus his own dignity. He slammed his fist onto the table – it was too early to dwell on the painful past. Truth be told, he was just as weak as he swore he would never be. He scowled and drug his feet into the cold kitchen. He thought that maybe this morning would be the morning that a warm cup of coffee would make the soreness of years gone by recede.

He fingered through some old papers lying on the mini bar: old bills that had been paid, old debts that has also been paid, but he paused at a long forgotten yellowing paper. He pulled it from the open file gingerly. They were the signed papers for the land and the house in which he lived now. His neat, noble signature was next to a zealous, almost illegible name next to his. It was the first big move in their relationship. Their home. It was something she had wanted for them. Now it was his - alone. A tear threatened to run its course down his frosty cheek. It would never get there, because he knew why she wasn't there. It was his fault, wholly, entirely and completely. He put the paper back in its place and pulled the paper he was in search of. Regret was for another day he decided.

The day passed quickly and when night consumed the sky he sat in front of the still fire. This day was like most others, he woke had his morning coffee, sorted through papers in hope of actually finding something worth his time, have a brief lunch, then resume the paper work and finally he would resign for the day after his second and final meal of the day with a glass of brandy at the fire. He stared blankly at the fire, no this day was not quite like the rest – most days he was dead to all emotion. Today he let his subconscious penetrate his daily thoughts. He thought of her today. He threw his crystal glass, still half full with dark liquid into the fire. It roared for a minute and with a flick of his hand it was out in half a second.

He pulled himself into his sheets for the night, he knew he would never change his ways, maybe tomorrow he would do something different and forget the mundane paper work he resigned to everyday for the sake of a family he never even loved. Then again he thought of changing his routine every night. It never happened. It hadn't happened in almost a year now. Maybe tomorrow - maybe. As his eyes shut in the chilly room, the black icy storm in his mind would take over until he woke.