A/N

This story was birthed one night because a pratty dragon listened to a song by "The Decemberists" called "The Shankill Butchers". Thank you to Mrs. Milfoy for splitting this beast up. That milf in the mercedes has nothing on you.

Also, I've played with the Bella Azkaban incarceration time line a little. You'll get over it.

Chapter one

Draco woke to the darkness of his room, and a fire that was on its last legs. It was very late, or extremely early, he wasn't sure which. The chill in his room shook him from the inside out, so he grabbed his wand from the antique nightstand by his bed.

"Incendio." He stated blandly, and flicked.

The fire sprang to life as he sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. As he stretched, he wondered what on earth he had woken up for. He heard it then. Or at least thought he heard something. A sound much like a short moan coming from outside his room down the corridor toward his mothers quarters.

He scrunched his eyes, as if that could make him hear just a bit better, and listened. A few seconds ticked by and the sound came again. Draco knew exactly what it was, but his father had been in Azkaban now for a month. Someone was fucking his mother. It was bad enough he had to endure his father's failed attempts at pleasing her, now she'd found someone else to take his place.

Curiosity got the best of him, and he threw the covers off. He stood up and found his discarded pajamas. Pulling them on, he quietly crept from his room.

He padded softly down the darkened hall, the cold marble floor chilling his feet. One out of every three wall sconces were lit bathing him in a surreal darkness that chilled his core. He arrived at his mother's door, which was cracked slightly open. Draco realized this was probably why he heard her sounds tonight.

He held his breath as he nudged her door open a bit wider, hoping it wouldn't creak. Thankfully it didn't, and he stealthily peered inside. What he saw made his heart speed up and his breathing stop.

Narcissa Malfoy lay on her bed alone and naked, bathed in both shadows and light from the well maintained flames in her bed chamber's fireplace. Her legs were spread, and her fingers were slowly working between her ivory thighs. Draco was frozen in place, as he watched his exquisite witch mother pleasure herself. The sounds she was making...the moans...her labored breath...began to heat his chilled body as if he were watching her from the fire itself.

He finally took a quiet, shaky breath and slowly pulled his now rigid cock from his sleep pants. There was a fire raging deep in his belly for this beautiful Goddess who gave him life. As he watched her writhe and thrust into herself, he stroked. He matched time with her as if he were the one who kept the hot rhythm pushing into her. He watched her chest heave and her muscles clench as she sped up. His breath became a quiet rasp as he pumped his cock faster.

He listened to her sweet moans over the crackling fire. He felt her magic quicken and swell with each breath she took. He knew she was close. So was he for that matter, and he desperately wanted to come with her. He closed his eyes tightly and leaned forward as he held on to the door jam. His fingers squeezed and whitened on the rough surface as he stroked his cock and waited for her call him home.

His mother's whimpers intensified to the pinnacle of Draco's self realization and he came with the intensity of a boy lost and a man, found. He spent himself on her door and stayed, a few seconds longer, catching his breath.

He heard his mother stir and came to his senses. Draco straightened his pants, backed and began to sprint down the hall toward his room. His thoughts and feelings spiraled down a torrid helix of guilt and self loathing.

It wasn't until he arrived at his room that the full realization of what he had done hit him full force. He ran to his bathroom and wretched. He was the epitome of disgust and self loathing. Draco knew all these feelings were horribly wrong. He was horribly wrong. He was a bad boy.

As he knelt by the loo, a song echoed in his head. A voice belonging to his Aunt Bellatrix.

'If you don't mind your mother's words, the Shankill butchers wanna catch you... The Shankill butchers wanna cut you...'

He remembered then, when he was still a boy, his mother and father had decided to attend a Yule ball at the Ministry of Magic. It was to be an unprecedented event, celebrating the five year demise of the Dark Lord and the finished restoration of the wizarding world. There were still a number of fugitives on the run, but their numbers were quickly dwindling.

One of those fugitives was his mother's sister, his Aunt Bellatrix. She had been staying...hiding...at the manor, and it seemed to be a much arguable topic between his mother and father. Draco would occasionally listen from their door while heated words were exchanged between the two. This particular night, the eve of the ball, he realized he had been mentioned in their conversation.

"She's asked to watch him tomorrow night." Narcissa said quietly. "I know she doesn't have much experience, but the elves are here if there are any problems."

"You know I detest your sister." Lucius said.

"I know you fear my sister." Narcissa retorted.

Just then, Draco heard a resounding smack followed by his mother's cry.

"I am no coward. Mind you remember that." Lucius spat.

He heard his father turn and move toward the door. Draco quickly hid under an ornate table in a small alcove in the hall and watched his father swish past.

When he was gone, Draco crept out from his hiding place and tip toed to his mothers room. The door was ajar, and he peeked in. She was sitting at her vanity dabbing salve on her lip. As he leaned, he nudged the door and it squeaked. Narcissa looked up, and peered at the doors reflection through her mirror.

"Come in, my little peeping dragon," she said as she smiled lovingly.

Draco edged into her room and padded over to where she sat.

"Your Aunt Bella will be watching you tomorrow night while your father and I attend the Yule ball." His mother said as she caressed his face. He watched as she swallowed a few times before continuing. "Mind her, Dragon. Do as she says."

"I will mum." Draco replied, wrapping his arms around her neck.

Just then, a small white mouse scurried from a dark corner and over his mothers foot. Narcissa screamed.

"I hate these things, deciding to winter in my home!" Narcissa shrieked. I must floo an exterminator in the morning."

"Mum, they don't hurt anything, and I like them. Father won't let me have a pet, and they're so very perfect." Draco pleaded.

Narcissa hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"I will talk to your father more about letting you have something. However, we are not having these...diseased things roaming about. End of story." She stated. "Now...off to bed with you. You want to grow up to be a strong dragon, don't you?" She smiled as she pulled away.

"Yes, mum." Draco replied as he turned and walked toward the door.

Before walking out, he turned once more.

"Mum?" He said.

"Yes darling." She answered.

"You really will talk to father about getting me a pet?" He asked.

"Yes, sweet boy." She replied.

"I love you." He added.

"I love you too, Dragon." Narcissa's voice cracked. "Now get yourself to bed before your father comes back."

Draco turned, walked to his room, jumped in bed and promptly fell asleep.