A/N: Hey guys! I've decided to continue with this story. Thanks to my reviewers and followers; you guys are the reason this story is still alive. Rinky1991 nailed where I had planned to go with this story if people enjoyed it. Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! If there is anything you guys would like to see in the future, drop a comment or PM me!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! I make no profit off of this. This is solely for my enjoyment and hopefully for the enjoyment of others! ;)
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Eight year old Draco tugged at his stiff tie, pulling the knot away from his throat. Almost immediately, Narcissa's hands reached down and directed the knot back into its original taut position.
"Muuuuuum," Draco whined, "it's too tight." Narcissa ran a gentle hand over Draco's hair, smoothing his blonde wisps into submission. "Stop your whining, dear," she berated good-naturedly.
Draco huffed though his nose as Narcissa continued fussing over her son's appearance; straightening his hair, brushing nonexistent dirt from his nose. "Stop it, Mum," he squealed as Narcissa tried to tuck in his already immaculately tucked shirt. The Malfoy matron straightened up and trained a keen eye on her son, examining her handiwork.
Despite the scowl that had overtaken Draco's face, Narcissa couldn't help but smile. "You look very handsome, Draco," she said warmly, feeling laughter bubble insider her chest as the tips of the boy's ears turned rosy.
"Now, Draco," said Narcissa as she knelt to her son's level, "it is of the utmost importance that you are on your best behavior tonight." She reached out to adjust Draco's tie that he had once again pulled loose, but Draco skittered back a few steps to avoid her grasp. Narcissa let her hand fall and sank back on her heels. "Your father hasn't seen his parents for many years and they are looking forward to meeting you."
"But why do I have to wear my nice clothes?" Draco complained. "Why can't I just wear my normal clothing?"
Narcissa sighed. She'd been fighting this battle with her child all day. It was enough of a victory that he was even wearing the clothes.
"You want to make a good first impression on your grandparents, don't you?" Narcissa reminded, repeating this phrase for the nth time that day. Draco scratched at his neck and sighed forlornly. "I guess," he finally conceded. Narcissa rewarded him with a smile. "There, now. Thank you, my little dragon."
Draco smiled sheepishly up at his mother. An idea suddenly sparked in Draco's ever racing mind. "Mum?" He started excitedly. "Can I show Grandma and Grandpa my leaf collection? I've added some new ones since I showed it to you last!" Draco was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to go and bring his mother his collection so that he could show her his new additions.
Narcissa's heart swelled unexpectedly. Her little boy, so full of excitement and wanting nothing more that to share his innocuous vision of the world with everyone he met.
"I think that's a lovely idea, Draco–" An animated smile began to dominate Draco's face.
"–but perhaps we could save it for another time." The elation in the boy's face drained quickly. Narcissa's previously full heart ached for her son. She hadn't meant to trample his joy. She only wanted to spare him the tongue lashing he would receive from Lucius if the leaf collection made an appearance.
"Oh," moped Draco, his lurid blue eyes hiding beneath pale lashes. "Alright then."
Narcissa inhaled deeply as she pushed herself back up onto her feet. "How about we go and wait for your grandparents to arrive, hm? They should be here any moment now."
Draco peered up at his mother, pale lashes fluttering. "How will they be arriving, Mum?" Narcissa began her walk to the front room, trusting Draco to follow her, which he did. "Your father says that they will be traveling by way of a car. Why they chose to arrive by car is beyond me. The floo would certainly be much quicker."
No sooner had the words left Narcissa's mouth when there was unexpected roar from the direction of Lucius' study. It was a familiar roar; it was the roar of someone who had arrived via the floo.
"Ah, Mother!" Came Lucius' jovial voice. "I thought that you were arriving by car. Had I known you were going to appear in my fireplace, I would have cleaned it a little for you."
"Oh please, Lucius. You and I both know that you have never once cleaned anything in your life," came a sour, high-pitched voice from the study.
"Caught me there, Mother, caught me there. Father! You're looking well. Is that a new cane? Whatever happened to your last one? I did so admire that cane…"
"Bah. That old thing broke as I was cracking it over the back of one of the house elves. Best way to lay that cane to rest, if you ask me." Down the hall floated the strong voice of man that Draco assumed to be his grandfather.
The atmosphere was suddenly filled with laughter from the three Malfoys in the study. Draco looked up at his mom. "Is that them?"
Narcissa didn't answer. She instead began to stride purposefully towards her husband's study. Draco tripped over his dress robe in his hurry to follow his mother. He stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance and scurried to catch up. He hid behind Narcissa's tall and slender frame as she knocked firmly on the door to the study.
Draco could hear the voices of his grandparents inside as a single set of footsteps, that he recognized as his father's, approached the door. Seconds later, the double cherry wood doors swung in and open to reveal Lucius Malfoy.
"Ah!" He cried, unusually cheerful. "Come in, darling," he said as he stepped to the side to grant Narcissa passage. He gestured grandly at the two persons stood in front of the fireplace. "You remember my parents, don't you?"
Draco peeked around his mother for his first look at his grandparents. Mrs. Malfoy was tall; Draco estimated that she had to be at least 175 cm. She wore part of her argentite hair coiled in a bun at the crown of her head. The rest reached down in soft tendrils that only just brushed her shoulders. Her face was full of wrinkles, but not the ugly kind. It was filled by the kind that was born of laughter and smiles. Draco liked her immediately.
Mr. Malfoy was quite tall, also. Draco guessed that he stood well over 180 cm. He was exceptionally well toned for his age. Draco could only tell because his grandfather had already removed his cloak and suit jacket, which only left him clothed in his dress shirt. Mr. Malfoy had wrinkles on his face also, but they weren't the kind ones that Mrs. Malfoy had. His were the ugly kind, the ones wrought from hours and hours of frowning and scowling.
Mr. Malfoy's hair was the same shade of silver that his wife's was; he wore his just as Draco's father did: long and straight back. The only difference was that Draco's grandfather had his pulled back into a low ponytail.
Draco gasped lightly as suddenly his grandfather's ice blue eyes found Draco's own. Draco quickly ducked back behind his mother again.
"Now that is not a proper way to greet your grandparents, young man," rang out Mr. Malfoy's bold voice. Draco scooted closer towards his mother. He risked a glance at his father and saw a spark of malice glint in his eyes.
Draco swallowed hard then forced his feet to carry him out from behind his mother. He stood out in the open, beneath the scrutinizing eyes of four adults. He felt his heart smashing up against the confines of his ribs and felt sick to his stomach. Why was no one saying anything? Was he supposed to say something?
Draco opened his mouth, not quite sure what he was going to say but prepared to say something anyways. He was saved from uttering what was working up to be a rather stupid comment by his grandmother speaking instead.
"You must be Draco," she said warmly, as a smile began to spread across her face. Draco closed his mouth and nodded in response, but didn't say anything. Lucius cleared his throat softly. "Yes, ma'am," Draco squeaked instantly.
"It saddens me to say that I don't know much about you. Your wretch of a father rarely writes me these days." Mrs. Malfoy smiled ruefully at Lucius.
"I'm Adelyn, child, but you may call me Addy or Granna if you like," she said, turning back to Draco. Draco gave his Granna a genuine smile. "Pleased to meet you, Granna."
Adelyn's smile widened to match her grandson's. "And this," she said elbowing her husband, "is your grandfather Abraxas Malfoy."
"How do you do, sir?" Draco extended a small hand to his grandfather. Abraxas took the child's hand in his own and shook it firmly. Draco did his best to reciprocate the strength with which Abraxas gripped his hand but Draco never had been a strong child. Abraxas's right eyebrow scaled his forehead.
"We'll have to work on that handshake of yours, boy," he said with a scoff, his disgust just barely contained.
Draco's ears reddened and he quickly let go of his grandfather's hand. Draco didn't dare look at his father, for he knew that all he would see would be disappointment and disdain. Instead, he retreated to stand beside his mother and turned his eyes to the sand colored rug under his feet.
"Draco," came his father's low voice. Draco quickly met his father's eyes before returning his gaze to the rug. "Yes, father?" He mumbled. Instantly, he mentally kicked himself. He knew the words that were going to come from his father's mouth before they were spoken.
"Do no mutter, Draco. Muttering is for cowards and you, Draco, are no coward. Am I correct?" Lucius sneered. Draco nodded promptly. "Answer me, Draco," demanded Lucius. Draco's head shot up and he answered automatically, "Yes, father."
"Excellent," replied Lucius coldly. "Do us a favor, Draco, and fetch the tea tray."
"Yes, father," Draco responded as he turned to exit the room. It was the voice of his grandmother that stopped him. "Oh come now, Lucius," scoffed Adelyn. "Have you or have you not a house elf who is competent enough to bring the tea?"
Lucius snorted softly as he crossed to sit in his large cushioned chair behind his desk. "Of course I do, Mother, but Draco is also quite capable of bringing tea. And if I remember correctly," he said as he leaned back in his chair, "Draco is my son and he does as I say, not as you say. So if I say Draco brings the tea, then Draco brings the tea."
Lucius folded his hands under his chin as Abraxas laughed heartily. "That's my boy," he proclaimed proudly. Lucius's lips pulled into a cold smile. Adelyn's face melted into a picture of disappointment and hurt.
Draco scurried from the room, tripping slightly over his robe, and made a beeline for the kitchen. In the expansive kitchen, it took Draco a moment to find Dobby, who was in one of many cupboards collecting ingredients for supper.
"Dobby?" Asked Draco softly, not wanting to startle the creature. Dobby backed out of the cupboard and looked up into the face of the young Malfoy.
"Master Malfoy!" chirped Dobby. "What can Dobby do for you?" He asked kindly. Draco smiled, he couldn't help it; he had a special spot for Dobby. "Dobby, could you make me a tea tray, please?"
Dobby's eyes lit up, pleased to be able to help. "Of course, Master Malfoy! Dobby will make the finest tea tray Master Malfoy will have ever played eyes on."
Draco giggled as the house elf set about quickly preparing the "finest" tea tray. As Dobby presented the finished product to Draco, the boy smiled. Dobby had included a plate of Draco's favorite tea treat: cherry tarts. Draco hoped that the tarts would make his grandmother as happy as they made him.
With a quick thank you to Dobby, Draco carefully lifted the tray and began his trek back to the study. Draco bit his lip in concentration as he focused all attention into safely transporting the tray. He pushed open one of the heavy doors with his foot and entered into the study. He glanced up momentarily and saw that his grandparents had taken up residence in the matching tall-backed chairs beside the fireplace.
His grandfather was engaged in a conversation with Lucius about how "incompetent the Ministry was becoming". So instead of interrupting their conversation, Draco opted for approaching his grandmother with the tray first.
Then, just as Draco was only a few paces away from his Granna, the worst thing he could imagine happened. His robe swept under his foot as he was setting his heel down. Draco tripped forward and the contents of the tray went flying. The cherry tarts flew up into the air and came raining down on top of Adelyn's head. The saucers and cups tumbled towards the ground and shattered on the grey stone.
Worst of all, the tea pot's lid flipped open and its hot contents spilled onto Adelyn's legs and feet. Adelyn's gave a small scream as the liquid burned her skin. Draco dropped the empty tray, horrified by the mess and pain he had caused.
"Granna, I–I– I'm," stuttered Draco helplessly. Narcissa rushed past her son and helped her mother-in-law out of her chair.
"Are you alright, Addy?" Inquired Narcissa worriedly. Adelyn laughed breathlessly. "Oh, yes, I'm quite alright dear. Just startled is all," she replied carelessly. She turned her eyes to her grandson. "Are you alright, Draco?"
Draco felt tears welling up in his eyes. "I–I–I," was all he could manage.
"Oh don't cry! It was an accident," assured Granna. Draco shook his head in denial. His first time meeting his only grandmother and he had managed to injure and humiliate her. Draco felt himself starting to shake. He turned to look behind him and saw exactly what he had imagined: Lucius bearing down on him with animosity leaking from his very pores. Draco skittered back a few steps but he wasn't quick enough.
Lucius reached out a hand and snatched up the collar of Draco's robe.
"Lucius, unhand that boy!" Cried Adelyn.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again," growled Lucius, "Draco is my son and I will do with him as I please!"
Draco choked out a sob, terrified of the pure, undiluted ire in Lucius's voice.
"Lucius, please!" Begged Narcissa. Lucius aimed a pointed finger at Narcissa as he roared, "Silence!"
Narcissa set her jaw and quietly led Adelyn from the room, leaving only Abraxas, Lucius, and Draco in the room.
"Father, please, I–"
Lucius was having none of it. Keeping his hand firmly twisted in the fabric of Draco's robe, he dragged his son from the room, through many hallways, down a flight of stairs. Draco knew exactly where they were going.
He tried to dig his heels into the floorboards. He tried to un-fist Lucius's hand from his robe. He even tried begging with his father, but all to no avail. Lucius finally came to a halt as they reached a dead end to one of the hallways. At the end of the hallway, pressed flush against the wall, was a tall metal box that should floor to ceiling. It's heavy door stood ajar but Draco couldn't see the back of the container.
"Would like to enter by yourself or shall I put you in?" Lucius asked coldly. He released Draco's collar and gave him a shove towards the box. Draco felt tears racing down his cheeks as he stepped into the box.
The Box was where Lucius put Draco when the boy had done something that Lucius viewed as outrageous. The first time Draco was placed in the Box, he had been four. He had broken a crystal ash tray that had been passed down through generations and generations of Malfoys.
The Box was the reason that Draco had developed a fear of small and enclosed spaces. He could voluntarily place himself in them if need be but he never enjoyed it.
Draco held his breath as Lucius shoved the door to the Box closed. He listened as the three heavy bolts were shifted into place. It wasn't until he heard his father's footsteps receding that he allowed himself to let loose a barrage of gut-wrenching sobs. He slid down the wall of the Box and whispered between gasps, "Malfoys are brave. Malfoys don't show fear."
Why couldn't he ever do anything right?
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