CHAPTER FOUR

July 22

A few days after the Quibbler interview was published, Draco was in the dining room, eating breakfast and going over his case notes. Some day, hopefully soon, he would present again to the Lesser Court, and he needed to prepare for it. His presentation had to be much better than his first attempt, not because the information needed to change, but because there was so much more involved this time. It needed to be flawless and leave no room for argument. Once he got the signatures he needed, then at least one thousand people would be involved. He really needed to get the attention of the Court so they would allow themselves to be shaken out of their comfortable mindsets. A thousand people who agreed with him should be enough to earn him a fair hearing.

He'd just taken a bite of sausage when his parents entered. He looked up in time to see Lucius unceremoniously drop a copy of the Quibbler on top of his notes.

"Good morning to you, too, Father," Draco mumbled, moving the magazine aside.

Lucius and Narcissa sat in their usual seats, but they didn't move to plate their food. Draco wasn't sure what they wanted, but he wasn't going to act first. He pretended to continue reading his notes.

"Draco."

Lucius' tone was the one he reserved for only the most serious conversations. Draco set down his quill and highlighter—the latter a birthday gift from Hermione the year before—and turned his full attention to the man. "Yes, Father?"

At first, Lucius looked angry, then annoyed. Finally he sighed wearily and Summoned the Quibbler. "Draco … Help me understand … this." He waved the magazine dismissively in the air.

Draco frowned. "I'm not sure exactly what you mean. I'll be happy to answer whatever questions you have."

"Why are you doing this?" Lucius asked.

"Did you read the article?" Draco asked impatiently. He didn't have time to hold his father's hand and explain everything. "It's all quite self-explanatory."

"We both did," Narcissa chimed with a smile. "You came out sounding quite dashing."

"Thanks, Mum." Draco gave her a confused half smile before turning back to Lucius. "If you read the article, then you know why I'm doing this."

"But why are you fighting against something our world needs?" Lucius asked.

Draco hesitated, trying to decipher his father's expression. He realized that Lucius was genuinely interested; he wasn't just trying to start an argument.

Draco set his fork down and regarded his father. "It's exactly as I said. The wizarding world can either keep using this bandage, covering up the real problem of Squib births, or they can face the hard truths behind the need for mixing blood." Draco wished his parents could hear him, really listen and consider what he was saying, but he didn't hold out much hope. It had taken him being rejected flat out without a batted eye after months of intensive effort to find Hermione for him to even start hearing the words she was saying—the same words she'd been saying for months before the Law was passed. He hadn't listened then because he hadn't thought it would matter for him. Before Lyon, he'd literally been at his end point, the point from which his only option, however she'd responded, was to change course. He couldn't possibly expect that his parents, with many more years of prejudice behind them, would be able to turn so quickly.

Or at all.

Lucius didn't like his answer. "This Law will help people, Draco. It will help your friends, and it will help people who could cause problems for you in the future if you upset them."

Draco scowled. "As absurd as it may sound, I am doing this to help everyone—all of those people who rushed to support this Law, myself included, because it is an easy fix, and those who are somewhat powerless as a result of it. Our world needs the hard route through this, especially now, with all of the tentative feelings and truces since the war ended. If we just allow this to continue, we will only hinder the progress that has been made. Like it or not, pure-blood supremacy is not the way forward. We need to work through this together, with everyone able to contribue equally. I am convinced we will come out stronger in the end." He should write some of this down for his speech. He would probably never argue with anyone as stubborn and stuck in their ways as his parents; it would be good practice.

"Your friends," Lucius continued sternly, "need this Law. Most of them are only children, like you, who are descended from only children. Like you. The more that happens, the closer we get to the point when we start seeing mostly Squibs. Your mother had three miscarriages before you and four after." Lucius turned to his wife with the most loving expression Draco had ever seen from him. Taking her hand, Lucius gave it a gentle squeeze. "We worry about your future."

Draco shook his head. "So the answer is to marry a witch of impure blood, regardless of my feelings on the matter? Or hers? You know, I still don't understand how you two have been so accepting of this law. It's just like Hermione said before, that pure-bloods are against mixing blood until Squibs start showing up, then we're all for it. Has this happened before, Father? In the Malfoy lineage? Or yours, Mum?"

Lucius sighed heavily and then stood. "I'd like to show you something. Narcissa, please excuse us."

Draco nodded and followed his father from the dining room. He led him through the house to the library. Lucius walked to the giant portrait of Reolus Malfoi, the first Malfoy to move to England from France. He tapped the side of the portrait, which was over ten feet tall and twelve feet wide, and to Draco's astonishment, the image disappeared, replaced with an image of an enormous tree.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning at the tree.

"It's the Malfoy family tree," Lucius replied. He used the tip of his wand to press a knob on the frame, and an ornate, golden magnifying glass appeared on the end of Lucius' wand. He placed the wand over the trunk and Draco saw, enlarged to the size of dinner plates, pictures of Reolus Malfoi and his wife, Genofeva. Included were their dates of birth and death. "It starts with Reolus in 1066, and each line of thread is actually a branch. This image is Charmed to adapt whenever there is a change in status for anyone in the family currently living." Lucius swept his wand to the far left of the tree, and Draco saw his own name and likeness there, connected to his parents just below.

Like the branches of a real tree, the family tree was laid out in no particular manner. Lines continued until they didn't, and the tree made space where it needed to in order to accommodate changes.

Lucius pressed his wand into small notch in the frame, and the entire tree glowed gold. It was surprisingly beautiful. Although, when Draco looked closer, he saw that not every branch, every thread, was shining gold. Some of the lines were dim.

"What's happened with these threads?" he asked, tracing one of the dark ones.

"The gold you see indicates a pure-blooded match," Lucius explained. He then tapped yet another notch and the bright gold glow was replaced by a few glowing strands of red. "Muggleborn matches." Lucius tapped again. "The green are half-blood." He tapped a final time and a handful of blue lines began to glow. "The blue are—"

"Muggles?" Draco finished, astounded. "In the Malfoy family tree?"

Lucius shrugged. "It's bound to happen. Think of your mother's family. Even in a family of staunch pure-bloods, her sister married a Muggleborn, and then of course there was all that business with Sirius. Regulus, too, if rumors are to be believed. The truly astonishing fact is that there are so few in all of this history."

Draco marveled at this new information. He'd never given much thought to his Malfoy family history beyond his grandparents, whom he knew to be ardent believers in pure-blood rights and superiority, as well as wishing all Muggles would simply walk into the ocean and stop breathing.

"Not many of the others, relatively speaking, though there are many more Mud—Muggleborns and half-bloods than Muggles."

"I'm surprised at how indifferent you seem about non-pure marriages in your family tree," Draco said, still examining the part of the tree nearest to his name. It would take weeks to see it all.

"As I said," Lucius explained, "it's bound to happen. People fall for those they do, and sometimes they cannot be persuaded out of it. It isn't as big a concern where there are multiple children." He stopped and pointed to the trunk of the tree. "See how the trunk is especially bright? Here, Reolus' oldest son was called William—a popular name after the conquest—which you can see easily beside the other four children. The bright golden thread runs all the way through the tree, unbroken all through." Lucius traced the path through the air with his wand, going far up into the upper branches and in and out of every other branch. "You can see that it ends, temporarily, with you. This line has been maintained, through the oldest sons in every generation. William's siblings' threads were gold, but they are duller."

Draco sucked in a breath, gazing at the tree with renewed appreciation. An unbroken line of pureblood marriages, maintained for a millennium. It was beyond impressive.

"The firstborn son, through love, coercion, manipulation, arrangement, or something else, continued the line," Lucius finished.

Draco couldn't help but feel a weight of guilt. He'd truly wanted to marry Hermione, at least when faced with the prospect of having to marry someone he'd never before have considered. He'd fallen for her, yes; whether that would have naturally led to thoughts of marriage without the presence of the impending Law, he couldn't say. Seeing this tree made him proud of his father's family history. Draco had always been interested in keeping up the high wizarding traditions, and this was yet another he could maintain.

"And if I marry under this law," Draco remarked slowly, "that bright golden line would be broken."

Now Lucius met his son's eyes. "I'm not sure what would happen," he admitted. "The Malfoy family has never been subject to a Marriage Law. In matters of law, any child sired by you as a result of the Marriage Law would be considered pure, even with a Muggleborn or half-blood mother."

Annoyance flared in Draco. "Because the law is considered a necessity."

Lucius nodded. "Since we've never needed the Law, there's no precedent for it on the tree."

Draco frowned. "How is it that our line has never needed a Marriage Law? I thought it was unfortunately common for the purest bloodlines."

At that, Lucius smirked. "Our family has never been in a position to require it. In prior years, whenever there was rumor of a Marriage Law, all effort was made to secure a match for the eldest son long before the Law went into effect. There haven't been too many, and it's always worked out."

"May I?" Draco held out his hand for his father's wand. "I'd like to look more closely." When Lucius handed it to him, Draco followed the bright golden line to see all of his ancestors. In 1487, he came upon a picture of a witch, married to an ancient relative, with a shining silver crown on her head. "Who is that?"

Lucius looked at who Draco pointed to. "Ah. That would be Charlotte de Hauteterre. She was part of the newly established French nobility, a cousin of the daughter of the Noble in Chartres. Whenever it seemed the Malfoy line was in danger—generally taken to be two successive generations where only one child was born despite all efforts to the contrary—our fathers would reach out to pure-bloods around the world. France, Switzerland, Bavaria, even America."

"Just to keep the line pure?" Draco asked, even though he probably knew the answer. "Why didn't other pure-blood families simply do the same?"

"They couldn't afford it," Lucius replied. "Some did, here and there, but only our family was able to do it consistently. Reolus fought beside William the Conquerer; as you know, there was no statute of secrecy then. He was rewarded heavily with this estate, and it has remained in our family ever since. Nearly a thousand years. Anyway. Charlotte married William Malfoy. His parents paid handsomely to bring her over, putting the family in a rough spot. William's parents discovered a way to regain some of their prestige and notoriety when it came time for William and Charlotte's children, specifically their sons, to marry. They exacted larger-than-usual dowries from the brides-to-be to make up for the … expenses Charlotte incurred. They were able to do this because the Malfoy name and lineage was unparalleled."

Draco frowned. "That all sounds very… mercenary."

Lucius shrugged. "Needs must, I suppose."

"So whenever it looked as though there might be trouble down the line conceiving a magical child, the Malfoys simply imported a pureblood witch," Draco said in summary.

"That's it, essentially."

Draco looked again at the tree and the obvious lack of branches over the last few generations. He was an only child, as was Lucius. Abraxas and his father and grandfather before had also been only children. Five successive generations of only children, and as he'd found out earlier, his own mother had experienced seven failed pregnancies. That number was staggering; he was amazed to even be alive.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius sighed heavily. "You can see why we were so in favor of this law. We are past the point of concern, Draco. It's possible that, if you married a pureblood witch in England, you'd have no children at all. This" – he made a sweeping gesture toward the family tree – "would come to an end."

"What about… importing a witch? Why didn't that ever come up in conversation? Why didn't your father do it for you, or your father's father?" It seemed to Draco that Abraxas should have married a foreign witch, in keeping with family tradition.

"My father … married my mother because her dowry greatly increased the Malfoy holdings; at the time, that was seen as more pressing. Theirs was an arranged marriage. My grandparents risked everything when they didn't follow tradition. It was taken as fact that I would be the one for whom a wife was found abroad." He smiled warmly. "But I fell for your mother and nothing could dissuade me." Then a flash of pain flared in his eyes. "I knew all of the risks. We knew them. We thought it wouldn't happen to us, as young people always do. It nearly did... your precious mother went through so much." Lucius paused, and Draco was astonished to see a depth of pain he'd never imagined possible in his father's expression. It passed quickly, and then he spoke again. "Then you were born, and we breathed easily for the first time since we'd decided to marry. We'd thought, since your mother had two sisters and her father had two siblings, that we'd be safe. I think the Malfoy line was simply too fragile."

Draco's head was spinning as a sobering realization struck him. "Then … I was to be the one with the imported wife. But here we are, years beyond a traditional marrying age, and I'm only just now learning all of this. Why?"

"Your mother… has always wanted your happiness first. The Dark Lord's return in your fourth year meant that our focus had to shift from thinking about your future wife to trying to keep you alive and out of harm's way." Lucius shook his head. "What a debacle. After it ended, we could think only of how grateful we were to still have each other. Then there was getting through all of the trials and the post-war rebuilding. We'd hoped to send you to Spain to further your education, but you insisted on staying here and working for the Ministry. In the end, Narcissa didn't think it would hurt to put off sending you away for a little while." He chuckled wryly. "It appears that, whatever the legal status of your children, Malfoy blood will be diluted."

Draco wasn't sure what to think. He stared at his name on the tree, imagining in his head a red line connecting to Hermione's name. He glanced at the trunk, the bright, glowing gold beginning of his family, then back to his name.

"And now? If the law is revoked, would I be expected to go to Spain or somewhere else?" he asked. He didn't know how he would respond, what he would do if he were told he'd be expected to continue the family tradition. His gut reaction to the idea was to push against it, to insist that he be allowed to stay in England and live his life the way he wanted. Then it hit him square in the heart that the scenario was surprisingly similar to the Marriage Law. He'd be shipped away to marry someone in order to continue the Malfoy line. He realized he might be able to understand how Hermione felt about the Marriage Law, even if only a little. That he could, if sent away, choose the woman he would marry seemed to matter very little.

Nevertheless, the full weight of a millennium rested on his shoulders. He felt quite small when faced with all of the Malfoy history, to say nothing of the Black family. When he thought about the reason he might marry a Muggleborn, for his own personal happiness, it seemed inadequate. Was his happiness more important than the traditions of generations upon generations?

A small voice inside him insisted that it was.

"On this point, you might fare better speaking with your mother." Lucius stepped back from the tree and regarded Draco thoughtfully. "She's always been a bit more open-minded than I have. What happens if you marry someone other than a pure-blood?" He shrugged. "Yes, the vaunted Malfoy line darkens a bit, but it's hardly the end of the line."

"I would be responsible for ending the pureblood line, all because of how I feel." Draco crossed his arms and frowned at his name. He did like the way Hermione's name looked beside his in his imagination of the tree. It was a shame that, technically, the line would dim; in his mind, adding her name should increase the brightness tenfold.

Lucius put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Son, I… I'm not sure what to say. I suspect your mother's rubbed off on me a bit these last few years. But the thought of that happening doesn't frighten me as it once did."

Draco glanced at his father, but Lucius was busy studying the tree. He didn't think his father would ever encourage him to marry someone who wasn't pure-blooded, but maybe he'd at least be somewhat open to the idea. Maybe all he could hope for was resignation, but if Lucius didn't put up a tremendous fuss, it would be huge for Draco.

He stepped back from the tree, his eyes roving over the golden glow. "Father? Is there a way to make all of the threads light at once?"

Lucius nodded and found the correct notch. Soon every strand was lit. Draco took another step back in order to take in the full family tree.

He couldn't help but think that it looked best with all of the colors lit.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading! Beta credit to eilonwy! All mistakes are mine; I added over 300 words since she saw it!