Hope you enjoyed Chapter 2! In this chapter, we see a little more of Draco's family dynamics. He also participates in his first training as a Death Eater. How does he do, and what does he think of his father? The answers might surprise you. Please R/R- I'm making puppy-dog eyes and begging. :)

Chapter 3: Family Matters

29 Dec.

He knew he had to be home by seven. As the sun rose he redressed and quietly slipped out of the room while Sara was still sleeping, conjuring a red rose to lie on his now-vacant pillow. He hustled around the side of the building and found his broom. He lifted the anti-theft charm, kicked off, and sped home, fighting sleep as fatigue began settling in. He'd slept very little. But, Merlin's beard, she was worth it. He crept back in through his window, quickly tossed his clothes in the hamper and hopped in the shower. His body practically begged him to crawl into bed, but there was no sleeping in at Malfoy Manor. His father had no tolerance for "laziness" and set a 7:30am deadline for showing up at the breakfast table.

He got dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling rushed. You should have left earlier, he chided himself. Draco swore silently as he looked at his watch: 7:35. He raced down the stairs and into the dining hall. His father was calmly cutting a piece from his Belgian waffle.

"You're late," he said curtly, not looking up.

Draco winced- "I'm sorry, father"- and walked briskly to the chair beside his mother. Thankfully, his father didn't launch into a lecture on punctuality; Draco's head hurt enough as it was. Narcissa rose from her chair and gave Draco a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, darling." She smoothed the hair on his forehead and studied his face critically. "You look tired. Didn't you sleep well last night?" She knew he'd been out, of course; his bed was empty when she'd come to check on him, but she wouldn't dream of mentioning it in front of Lucius. Draco cleared his throat.

"Uh, no, I was…up a lot". Technically the truth.

"Draco," Narcissa began as they took their seats, "I'm going over to the Parkinson's for tea later today. Would you care to join me? I'm sure that Pansy would love to see you." Draco barely held back from rolling his eyes as he looked away from his mother. Oh I know she'd LOVE to see me, his thought dripping with sarcasm, and I'd LOVE to Apparate the hell away from her, preferably to the other end of the earth.

His parents and the Parkinson's had been trying to put Draco and Pansy together for what felt like his entire life; he secretly feared that they might one day Imperius him into marrying her. He shuddered at the very thought of being wed to that whiny, aggravating pain-in-his-arse. But before he'd been able to respond, "No thanks, Mum- I'd rather dive into a swimming pool full of razor blades and lemon juice (or something like that), Lucius interrupted.

"Draco will be attending a meeting with me and some of our associates this morning; he stands to learn a great deal today. After that, Severus will spend the afternoon with Draco to work on Potions."

"What?" Draco was astonished. Snape is coming here to teach me Potions? I excel at Potions, what the hell is this about? "But-but I'm on holiday!" he complained.

Lucius gave him a hard look. "So you're comfortable with your ranking in Potions class? You'd rather remain in second place, behind that Mudblood girl of all people?" He spat the word out as if getting rid of a foul taste in his mouth. Lucius fixed a disapproving glare on his son, a look Draco saw practically every day. "You're lazy, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Draco closed his eyes, cringing inwardly from the wound made by his father's biting comments. He knew there was no point in arguing; the tirade would end sooner if he didn't protest.

"Upstairs now, and change your clothes," Lucius ordered. "Put on your black suit with the silver serpent cufflinks. And for Merlin's sake, fix your hair!"

Draco was walking out of the dining room before it occurred to him that he hadn't even eaten. He sighed and called for Mimsy, the main house elf since they lost Dobby when he was twelve. "Bring me a Belgian waffle with strawberries, a vegetable omelet, and an enormous cup of coffee; I'll be in my room." Mimsy hurried to fill the order.

"Are we bringing my sweet little nephew to the meeting today? Going to be one of us soon, aren't we Draco?" Bellatrix put her hands on either side of his face. Draco's heart contracted tightly at the mention of exactly what it was he would soon become. "You'll make us so proud, darling- you will do great things," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his, her hands still holding his face. With that, she patted his cheek (a little too hard), smiled at him, and walked over to the chaise in the foyer. He swallowed hard, not wanting to look at her forearm but grimacing as his eyes betrayed him. The Dark Mark seemed more prominent with every passing day.

"Bella! Do you mind?" snapped her sister. Bellatrix was standing on the chaise and casting a spell on the chandelier above, making the crystals vibrate so strongly that some had begun to crack.

"You're no fun at all Cissy," Bellatrix scowled, leaping off the chaise and pouting. She turned her attention to the elegant fountain across the hall and caused the water to swirl violently, like a liquid tornado. She cackled wildly, her eyes lighting up as water splashed across the oil paintings on the wall. Narcissa closed her eyes, barely controlling her temper.

"Just clean it up, Bella."

Draco did his best to avoid his aunt. He had no cheerful memories of her at all. As a child, he was always scared of her; he once watched her capture a fox in the backyard, torture the wailing creature, Petrify it and drown it in the pond. Just for fun. He had been only seven, but the gleeful dance she did after killing the fox made his blood run cold.

And then she caught him watching. He ran for his life but she only laughed and fired a Leg-Locker Jinx at him. He lay there on the ground, terrified, as she towered over him. "Don't go running to tell Mummy," she teased, "or you can be my next fox, sweetie." She gave him a menacing glare followed by a wicked smile, and then walked away chuckling.

Draco still shuddered at the memory.

Since she'd been freed from Azkaban, she was a hundred times worse; now she was crazy as well as cruel. She was like a ticking time bomb, and no one knew when (or how often) she would blow up. Sometimes, when dark clouds passed over the moon, she would see visions of her captors in prison. She would scream at the moon, cowering in terror, crying "NO! Please, don't! Leave my soul alone!" It made the hairs stand up on Draco's neck.

Lucius appeared in the foyer, took out his wand and instantly stopped the fountain's wild water show and dried the walls and floor. "Shall we?" he said crisply, and led Draco and Bellatrix out the door. He grabbed Draco's arm and they shot up into the air, leaving an ominous trail of black smoke behind them.

Draco felt the air whipping him and could see nothing but the dark wind swirling around him like a violent tangle of black scarves. He felt his stomach drop as they ascended and struggled to breathe. The trip took less than a minute and they arrived at the home of Orin McClellan, another high-ranking Death Eater. Draco closed his eyes and steadied himself against a hedge, his head still spinning.

"Ah, Lucius! You've arrived. And you've brought the heir to your throne, I see." McClellan fixed his gaze on Draco, who bowed courteously as he had been taught.

Lucius put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I have, Orin. After all, my son is nearly of age and I feel that it's time for him to…shall we say, gain some experience?" McClellan smiled knowingly. Draco's pulse quickened at his father's cryptic statement. He suddenly felt very uneasy, and had to force himself through the doorway of the McClellan Manor.

He looked around the grand foyer. Ornate sconces flanked the gilt-edged mirror hanging above a large, marble fireplace on the right side; to the left was a magnificent display cabinet filled with precious antiques and artifacts. Some of them had been passed down through the generations of the McClellan family tree, but most had been stolen from the homes of the Death Eater's victims. Past the foyer was an expansive dining room where three more Death Eaters sat at a long, intricately carved table.

Orin led Lucius, Bellatrix, and Draco to their seats. A house elf appeared with a vintage bottle of Merlot, pouring a glass for each of them. Draco tried not to focus on the fact that the dark red liquid looked nauseatingly like something else.

"Some introductions are in order, I believe," said Orin, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Draco, there are two of our associates here whom you may not know. This is Kieran Yaxley, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry," he said, pointing to the man sitting directly across from Draco. Orin then gestured to a thin, dark haired older man to Yaxley's left. "This is Antonin Dolohov, one of the original Death Eaters for the Dark Lord."

Both Yaxley and Dolohov reached across the table to shake Draco's hand. Orin then turned to the third man at the table. "I believe you know Theodore Nott, Sr. His son is in your year at school, isn't he?"

Draco shook his hand. "Yes, Theo Jr. is a close friend of mine. Hello, Mr. Nott- it's good to see you, sir."

Nott smiled but looked at the boy intently, as if measuring Draco's abilities against those of his own son. "Hello, Draco. Perhaps we'll see Theo sitting here with you in the near future."

"I hope so," Draco replied. Out of his peripheral vision he caught his father and McClellan exchange a look that said, "Not anytime soon," punctuated by a haughty roll-of-the-eyes from Lucius. He'd have to ask his father later on; Lucius wouldn't miss a chance to put someone down.

"Gentlemen- and Lady, of course," Orin nodded to Bellatrix. "Today we begin young Draco's training into the ranks of The Dark Lord's army," announced Orin.

Draco did a double-take. Come again? The table of Death Eaters smiled broadly at him, and everyone raised their glasses. Draco was still processing the news and didn't smile back.

Lucius stood up, glass in hand. He smiled down at Draco and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "To my son Draco, the first of a new generation to join our Noble Order," he announced.

Draco stopped with his glass halfway in the air and looked strangely at his father. He looks…almost…proud of me. He felt a hesitant kind of warmth budding deep in his heart, but kept it subdued. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

Bellatrix completed the toast with a passionate declaration: "And to the Dark Lord, to whose service we bind our lives."

"To the Dark Lord!" they all replied, including Draco.

After the wine had been drunk and the conversation ended, he followed the adults to an enormous hidden room. Tall shelves lined three of the walls, containing extensive collections of books on the Dark Arts, various potions in sinister-looking bottles and several terrariums. Draco spotted at least two poisonous snakes and a very large tarantula. What kind of "training" is this? He struggled to control his nerves, and wondered if he and his breakfast would soon be reacquainted. Orin's voice pulled him out of his head.

"Draco, today we will begin with simple dueling."

Oh, thank Merlin! Draco felt a thousand pounds lighter. This I can handle.

"Though I hear you have been quite adept at besting your classmates, you will find your opponents today a bit more challenging," Orin continued with a smile.

Draco heard quiet laughter and turned to see his aunt, Yaxley, Dolohov, and Nott standing in a line with their wands drawn. They let out another laugh when he inadvertently took a huge step back and hit the wall behind him. He looked over at his father for reassurance. Lucius gave him a small nod but it was clear that he was as nervous as his son. Draco swallowed hard. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Father.

Bellatrix sauntered over, took her nephew by the arm and pulled him to the center of the room. "All right then, Draco, let's see what you've got!" Draco fumbled for his wand; after a few deep breaths he managed to pull it from his pocket. Great, I already look like an idiot. His aunt stood several paces away, smirking at him.

They readied themselves, posed in dueling stances, and raised their wands. Draco had hardly spoken the first syllable of his spell when Bellatrix silently cast a Levicorpus jinx. Draco was suddenly suspended in midair, hanging by his ankle. He felt fantastically stupid, even more so when Bellatrix lifted the spell and he crashed to the ground. He heard them laughing again, all except his father.

"Up! Try again!" commanded Lucius.

Draco scrambled to his feet and faced off with Nott. He spoke faster this time, casting a Stunning spell. Nott simply blocked the spell and cast a Protego charm. Draco's spell rebounded and he was thrown back, landing on his rear end and smacking his head on one of the bookshelves. Pain reverberated in his skull but he could still think clearly enough to assess his performance: I'm rubbish. His duel with Dolohov went no better. Once again, Draco found himself on his arse faster than he could say Stupefy. His father grabbed his arm again and stood him up. His head was throbbing but he made himself stand at the ready.

Lucius shoved past Yaxley, who was next in the dueling line. He drew his wand and turned to face his son. Draco's breath caught in his throat, and he got a warning message from his breakfast. Lucius spoke sternly to his son. "Don't choose weak spells, Draco-think about attacking your enemy and shielding yourself. There is no mercy in dueling".

Draco gave him a shaky nod and took a deep breath. Show him. Show him you can do this. What kind of spells did his father want? Would he be proud or pissed if Draco put him in a Full Body-Bind? Or used Incendio to set his robes on fire? The ambiguity made him nervous. He set his jaw in determination, and chose his spell carefully.

Draco heard his aunt count down from "3". At "1", he fired an Incarcerous spell to chain Lucius to the bookshelf. However, he was so focused on casting the right spell he completely forgot to protect himself. His father shouted a curse he'd never heard before.

"Sectumsempra!"

Draco hit the floor so fast it took a moment for him to register what had even happened. Then he felt the pain. White-hot and razor-sharp, it took his breath away. He watched in alarm as blood soaked through his shirt and began to pool around him. It felt like his chest had been ripped open. He was rapidly losing blood and consciousness and, for a terrifying moment, wondered if he was actually going to die.

But then his father was kneeling over him, drawing his wand across the gashes. "Vulnera Senentur," Lucius intoned repeatedly, closing Draco's wounds and drawing the pain from his body. He saw his Aunt Bella stooped next to his father, applying Essence of Dittany on each gash after Lucius repaired it. Even she had a look of distress on her face. Through the fog in his head he heard them talking.

"No, don't put Dittany on that one."

"But it'll leave a scar!"

"It will remind him of the purpose of dueling."

Lucius finished siphoning the blood from Draco's shirt and pulled his shaken, horrified son to his feet. Draco simply stared at his father in disbelief. "That is what I mean by no mercy," Lucius said softly. He led Draco over to the wall where the boy sank into the nearest chair, still shaking visibly. "Take a moment to compose yourself, and then rejoin us," he instructed. Draco threw up his breakfast.

When he finished heaving and could finally think straight,Draco marveled at the absolute indifference in his father's voice. The man confused the hell out of him. He actually seemed proud of me at the table, and now he's nonchalant about the fact that he nearly killed me. He stayed in the chair with his eyes closed and focused on slowing his breathing to near-normal. As soon as a tinge of color returned to his cheeks, Orin called him over to resume his training before he lost his nerve completely.

The Death Eaters put Draco through his paces. Though he was no match for his father or his aunt at all, by the end of the session he had effectively used a shield charm against Yaxley and managed to stun Dolohov. He was covered in cuts and bruises from slamming into the walls or other furniture when hit by their spells. His left leg hurt so badly that he could barely walk on it. He knew he had performed terribly and cringed as his father approached him.

Here it comes.

He hung his head and braced himself for the verbal blows. To his complete and utter astonishment, Lucius clapped him on the back and smiled. "Excellent work, son. Very few apprentices can recover from a serious curse and continue to train afterward; even fewer can cast a successful spell against us on their first day." The others agreed, smiling and congratulating him. Draco's mouth fell open. Funny-I know I must be dreaming, but I don't remember going to bed.

"Your son has remarkable strength and a quick mind. He shows great promise, Lucius," remarked Orin. Lucius nodded confidently, his hand still on Draco's back, as if he'd known this all along. Still in a daze, Draco played their words over and over in his mind and prayed that he truly wasn't dreaming. He felt a thousand feet tall.

When they returned home, Draco rested as Mimsy practically bathed him in Dittany. He hardly felt any pain, though, as he listened to Lucius and Bellatrix recount his first day of training to his mother. His mind held onto every word they said. Remarks like "a fast learner" and "outstanding work" floated through the air like sweet music to him.

The praise, especially from his father, was intoxicating. He drank it up, capturing it in his heart. He thought he didn't care that much, thought he'd shut down the need for the man's approval long ago. But he discovered in that moment that the father-shaped hole in his heart still existed, and Lucius's emerging respect had begun to fill it.