Chapter 2: peacocks
Draco Malfoy was pacing his room impatiently, his father was punctual man and he knew that he would have to wait until the hour for him to knock on the door. He looked around as he walked, though he did not take notice of the things he saw. A four post double king bed crafted of dark mahogany was the center of the capacious room. The bed was adorned in an emerald green spread and fluffy, lavish pillows. A Malfoy needs his rest, after all. The elegant carvings on the posts expertly matched the gray molding that encircled the space. A pristine fireplace stood opposite the bed, but being the middle of the summer it was not lit. It was made of the finest metal; dark and cold. Green, gray, and purple tile outlined it's gorgeous frame and led the eye to a magnificent curved back sofa. Victorian style legs and arms in the same color as the bed frame hugged the gray fabric neatly. The arms curved in such a way that Draco could nap comfortably in any position. Two grand windows were seated the walls, the bottle green drapes pulled back so the warm sunlight shone on his white hair as he walked anxiously around his room.
He let out a frustrated sigh and checked the time. Two more minutes and his father would would be up here. He looked forward to any time he could spend with his father, who was often busy with who knows what. What was it that he kept hidden so deeply? And from his own son? Perhaps he would tell him about it today since he would be leaving for school soon. He decided to ask him about it, surely his father would share something with him of the reasons why he seemed to detest Hogwarts and Potter.
A sudden knock at the door made him jump, though his father didn't wait for a reply to open the door, but he did request his son do so for him.
"Ready, son?" His voice was slow and smooth.
"Of course I am!" Draco walked quickly to join his father. They walked down the beautiful staircase and outside into the garden. It was filled with flowering plants, perfect down to each petal and leaf. White peacocks traveled throughout the garden freely, their calls could be heard all around the manor. The grass was kept short and neat so that one could lay back on it and study the sky.
They walked through the rows of roses until Draco broke the silence.
"Dad, why do you keep so many white peacocks?"
Lucius stopped walking and turned to look at his son. He thought for a moment before answering carefully.
"I keep white peacocks because I want to be surrounded by things that are beautiful, because parts of myself are not. I also keep them because white is a symbol of purity, and I enjoy being around things that remind me of us."
"Oh." Draco looked at his feet.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. He could sense that something else was on his son's mind. He continued to stare at his son until Draco finally lifted his head and stared back.
"Father?"
"Yes, Draco?"
It was a moment before he could work up the courage to ask. Lucius waited patiently while his son worded his question.
"What is it, exactly, that's so ugly about your past? Why won't you speak to me of it?" His question was soft and curious, care for his father was evident in his face.
Lucius looked away and pursed his lips, tightening his grasp on his cane.
"I'm sorry, father I didn't-" Lucius waved his hand and Draco stopped talking.
"I know, son. I do owe you some explanation. Though I do not wish to tell you all of it, yet." His voice slow and steady despite the desperate urge to scream or cry.
"But you will tell me?"
"Yes. Here, let us sit." Lucius gestured to a bench encompassed by red roses, a peacock was sleeping peacefully beside the bench.
"I was involved in some rather unfortunate events. I was not caught, but I fear that I may be. You must not mention to this to anyone nor ask questions of those you will meet at Hogwarts, or elsewhere. I am, as you know, a believer in pure blood supremacy and the Dark Arts. I was a part of some things that have marked me for life, things I won't easily be rid of. I'm afraid that the burden can sometimes hinder me, and that you might be caught up in it, too. You are a Malfoy, and I want you to keep your head up. Remember that you are better than they are. If you hear anything or have any questions, I want you to speak only to me. Write me, I will write to you." Lucius set his cane against the side of the bench and let his elbow rest on the arm. He glanced towards his son, who was staring at him earnestly. He had hoped for more information than this. Lucius guessed this.
"Patience is a virtue of being a Malfoy, Draco."
His silky voice calmed his son's fears. Draco nodded his head silently and looked again to his feet. His father changed the subject.
"Your letter should arrive any day now. We can go to Diagon Alley and pick up your things. Remember to mind yourself while you are there, you will be representing yourself and the Malfoy name."
"Of course, father." said Draco
Except for the difference in hair length and style, and the obvious age gap, they looked just alike sitting in the warm sunlight. Each brooded over things and enjoyed the calm silence and the bond they shared.