The Mirror Front
SUMMARY: What if it wasn't Lucius that was evil...but Narcissa?
Draco hated home. He hated it and everything it stood for. He briefly remembered talking to Goyle, in a strange moment of companionship.
"So, are you going home these holidays, Malfoy?"
"Home?" He had snorted. "I am going back to my house, if that's what you mean." He had looked away, not wanting him to hear as he muttered that he had no home. He had the sneaking suspicion that Greggory knew what he had said anway.
And now he was on the way back to the Manor. He was off that stupid, stinking train with it's stupid, stinking incompetent students...and on the way back to his stupid, stinking house. He sighed and shook off that train of thought. Wrong yet again, Malfoy. He was just annoyed because that bumbling excuse for an idiot Colin Creevey had tipped pumpkin juice on him by accident in the hallway. Stupid, simpleton Creevey, Potter worshipper extraordinaire. He had nearly wet his pants when he looked up at who he had spilt the juice on. Draco smirked, squirming in the leather seat of the limousine.
Sighing, he looked out of the darkly tinted, almost black windows.
"Wave bye-bye Draco...you won't get to Hogwarts for six-weeks." The school annoyed him. He had no real friends, other than Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle, much as he liked them, were useless now he could take care of himself. He was no longer than snivelling, snot-faced brat he had been in the first year, he thought, rolling his eyes. If he saw his younger self now, he would attempt Avada Kedrava almost instantaneously. How did everybody put up with him? No wonder he had next to no friends now. And he had no respect. Everybody just put up with him because they were scared of his mother. He snarled and cursed, throwing his scrunched up robe across the other side of the limo. The driver looked up calmly, winding the partition down.
"Did you say something, Master Draco?"
"I said nothing, Jenkinson. Keep driving."
________________________________________________________________________________
Eventually they were there. Draco watched sulkily as they rolled up the long driveway, the gates opening as they passed the carefully manicured lawns. It was like something out of a movie, he thought with disgust. If it hadn't been for mother, his father and himself would have been quite happy in a two-storey apartment somewhere. His mother was a leech. She had married his father purely for the money. She had destroyed the Malfoy name. She was a scheming, manipulative, self-involved bitch. Hence the name Narcissa.
Draco fondly remembered the day he had found out the meaning of her name. He had been reading through his school books when his father had knocked gently on the door.
"Draco." He had said, entering with that sad and wizened smile on his face.
"I brought you something." He had sat on the bed as Draco had opened the storybook to the page marked. His first thought was that he was a little old for fairytales, but then when he began reading he couldn't stop laughing. It was some Greek tale about a guy called Narcissus who was totally in love with himself, and eventually died because he couldn't love another, wouldn't eat or sleep because he simply couldn't drag himself away from his reflection. His father had watched him warmly, that smile and those saddened eyes. He loathed that look, it made him look weak, and Malfoy family members were not weak. But his thoughts crumbled as he remembered his family line. All the men were extremely intelligent, and in doing so sought out wives of high intelligence...which was usually their undoing, when the overly-intelligent wife thought of some scheme to ruin them for their money. It was actually a wonder the Malfoy line was still present, and that Draco even existed today. And he felt it. He felt that same hunger for intelligence, that raw passion that he had. And he knew who had it.
"Master Draco?" Jenkinson was holding the door open, and it was apparent he had been doing so for quite some time now.
"Thank you Jenkinson." He stepped out and sauntered up the grand steps of the mansion.
________________________________________________________________________________
"Draco! What a pleasant surprise." His father looked up from his work. He was hunched over his work, and looked tired and exhausted. But happy nonetheless. Draco glanced around the dimly lit room and sighed, crossing over to the windows to open the curtains.
"Hello Father. Did Mother not tell you I was coming?"
"What a clever idea Draco, you really are such a clever boy." His father ignored the question, referring instead to the flood of light Draco had allowed into the room.
"Thank you Father." He drawled lightly.
"I've almost got it Draco, would you like to see?" His father was an extremely intelligent man, though certainly weak-willed. He had a job in the Ministry, and liked to create spells in his past time. Although, sometimes his obsession tended to intrude on his work hours as he got overly enthusiastic.
"Of course!" He draped himself on the armrest of the chair, as his father searched for his wand.
"It's in front of you, Father." It was all he could do to keep from laughing. His father, the absent-minded twit he was had accidentally been using his wand as a quill, without noticing. He blushed.
"Oh, thank you for pointing that out, Draco. Are you ready?" He wiped the ink off the point of the wand with his hankerchief as Draco smirked.
He waved his wand in a complicated pattern, muttering some ancient Latin that Draco didn't quite understand.
Suddenly it was as if the floor fell away, and they were lost in a tunnel of beautiful colours, refracting like a rainbow through crystal. The colours were everywhere, swirling around them as they kept falling, rushing and rushing and suddenly everything went black...
Draco awoke in a beautiful cave, with icy stalagtites and stalagmites. His father was sitting on a flat rock nearby, watching him carefully.
"Ah...slight error that I forgot to re-write...we fell into the lake. I dragged you out." A slight smirk was on his face as Draco took in the scenery. A lake, about half the size of the one at Hogwarts was nearby, the water sparkling, almost impossibly pure. The surrounding sand was a cool blue in the darkness of the cave, and the crystal formations glittered and sparkled.
"Where are we?" Draco was in awe.
"This is my mind, Draco. A physical representation." (A/N: Insert the representations as you please, LOL...stalgtites for a sharp mind, water for flexibility...I dunno.) It was then that Draco noticed the shadows around the edges, but there was too much light for them to be noticeable.
The room had no routes out, nor any windows. The light reflecting off the formations and the surface of the lake came from a smooth cube of glass hanging in mid-air, humming and vibrating as it sent out light. Draco dared not ask what it was.
"Are you ready to go back, Draco?" His father looked at him, almost as if he was on the point of saying something, but was held back, wasn't allowed.
Draco looked at his father, and then his gaze returned to the lake.
"What would happen if I drank from there, Dad?" Lucius's face took on an interesting contortion, as he tried valiantly to scan every single possibility. But, eventually he drew a blank.
"I have no idea. And we're not about to experiment. Come Draco, let's go home." His titan-haired son straggled towards him, clothes still dripping. His father muttered something, and they were surrounded by a halo of light.
They arrived back in the study just as the door banged open.
"Draco! I have been looking for you everywhere!" Narcissa looked set to kill, and Lucius felt a slight shudder trace down his spine. His wife looked young, much younger than her age of 38. She looked around 21, 22. Her ash blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, making the ends of her violet eyes slope back into an even eviller expression. Her lips slid back into a cruel smile.
Lucius felt his mind wandering, back to the days when her skin was peaches and cream and her lips like soft raspberries to him. A tall man, he had never understood girls, how they could be so small and petite. Narcissa had played on his weakness so easily. She was a small woman, even Draco, now 12, was eye to eye with her. And now, she was nothing more than Voldemort's whore. He had not protested when she requested they join the ranks of the Death Eaters. And even now, when Voldemort greeted him, he had no idea how to treat Lucius. He was an enigma. And Draco was quickly filling in his father's footsteps. One day he'd subject to Narcissa's every whim and fancy. The next he'd beat her down to tears, verbally. If Lucius and the Malfoy forefather's were anything to go by, Draco would reach his growth spurt very soon. He'd be able to throw Narcissa around like a ragdoll. And God, how Lucius awaited that day.
"The Lord wishes to see you Draco. I will commence your training next week, be ready." She smirked, it pained Lucius so when he saw Draco mimick his mother's expressions. He said nothing, instead gazing at the woman coldly.
"But of course, _Mother_." He spat out. She stood there, as if waiting for something.
"Yes? You are no longer required in my presence, woman. Go back to your room and wait for your employer, dirty whore." Lucius, who had been watching quietly, started, but fought not to show it. His insides churned. Draco understood. Draco _understood_. And he was taunting the demon-woman.
Narcissa's eyes narrowed.
"You will not speak like that to me, son."
"I shall speak how I like. I carry the Malfoy name. Without that name you would be nothing, wench. You would be out in the Muggle-world, working your ass off. Or you would be prostituting yourself somewhere in Hogsmeade."
Lucius watched, his heart leaping for joy at his son, who was verbally tearing his mother down with every passing second.
"I will not tolerate sub-ordinance!" Narcissa shrieked, leaping for Draco. Lucius stood. Narcissa was a very strong woman, both in will and physical form, but she was no match for Lucius.
"Defending your spawn, Lucius? So kind, especially seeing as you weren't the one to carry him for nine months." She paused to wipe spittle from the corner of her mouth delicately. Those long manicured nails, many were the night he had felt them digging into the tender tanned flesh of his shoulderblades....but no was not the time to remember things such as that. Draco was in danger.
Draco strode across to his mother, a concerted effort for a 12 year old. But Draco pulled it off. He always could.
"Leave Father out of it, Mother. Go back to your room."
"No Draco. You go to your room." It was all Lucius could do to stop from snorting. Did they realise how childish they sounded? He spoke, and his voice sounded hoarse and ill-used.
"Draco shall stay. Narcissa, return to our room and I will come by later." She positively seethed, and was ready to open her mouth.
"It would do you good to remember who I am Narcissa. Who funds your childish Death Eater exploits?" Her mouth was upturned in a smirk now, she had regained self-control.
"Childish? Hardly, you yourself carry the Dark Mark, Lucius."
"Go to your room, woman!" He thundered.
With one last glance at Draco, she hissed
"You cannot hide behind your father forever, Draco." And left. Draco shuddered.
Those words brought back a memory.
Draco was in the greenhouse, on a detention with a Ravenclaw girl, Summer. She had shyly admitted her affections for him, and he, in return had kissed her. Then she had kissed him. And it had led to something a little more than kissing.
"Oh Draco." She had murmured in her soft southern drawl. He pushed his fingers further inside her, and she cried out as she climaxed, her hands tangling in his hair.
She had given him a sad glance as she left.
"I know what you're really like Draco."
"I never gave you the right to call me Draco." He had said softly.
"Don't try and hide behind your father. You can't hide forever." And she had left. Funny how everybody at Hogwarts seemed to believe that it was his father that was the big bad Death Eater. Well maybe he was, but the real evil at 'home' was his scheming bitch of a mother.
And it was funny, he always hoped in his dreams that she was his evil step-mother, and somewhere in Heaven his real mother smiled down on him, waiting for the day her little Draco would return to her. And her loving husband. And they could be a happy family once more.
________________________________________________________________________________
Somebody knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in." Narcissa was brooding.
"Oh. It's you." She returned to brushing her hair.
"I don't understand why you delight in provoking him." He sighed, flopping onto the bed. Dinner had been a sordid affair, with Draco only speaking to his father, and his mother ignoring everybody except the house-elf that brought their food, and that was just to harshly belittle it with all the power she possessed.
"The boy needs to toughen up." She saw his reflection in the mirror, he was lying down behind her, one arm behind his head, the other trying to catch a feather drifting in the air. Her face softened. One, she had married Lucius for his money. Two, she had married him for his looks. He still retained a firm washboard stomach from the schooldays, and from teaching Draco to play Quidditch. She did like to see him happy. Not if it interfered with her own happiness though.
She wasn't going about things the right way. Turning around, she slid off the chair.
"Lucius...darling, you do know I don't like to see you unhappy." She purred. Lucius sighed. He knew what his wife was up to.
"Yes, Narcissa?" She had that untrustworthy gleam in her eyes as she clambered ontop of him.
"So I *lick* agree to *lick* make peace with *lick* Draco. Would that *lick, kiss* make you *nibble* happy, darling?"
'The bitch is back at my money again.' Lucius thought as the blonde head made it's way south of his chest.
"Very." He looked lovingly into his wife's eyes. However good an actor Narcissa was, Lucius was better.
"Oh good...I'm so happy I can help you baby." Lucius closed his eyes as Narcissa's mouth engulfed him, trying to force the thought from his mind that she had done this to Voldemort so many times before.
A/N: lots of spelling errors in here...will somebody help me???
SUMMARY: What if it wasn't Lucius that was evil...but Narcissa?
Draco hated home. He hated it and everything it stood for. He briefly remembered talking to Goyle, in a strange moment of companionship.
"So, are you going home these holidays, Malfoy?"
"Home?" He had snorted. "I am going back to my house, if that's what you mean." He had looked away, not wanting him to hear as he muttered that he had no home. He had the sneaking suspicion that Greggory knew what he had said anway.
And now he was on the way back to the Manor. He was off that stupid, stinking train with it's stupid, stinking incompetent students...and on the way back to his stupid, stinking house. He sighed and shook off that train of thought. Wrong yet again, Malfoy. He was just annoyed because that bumbling excuse for an idiot Colin Creevey had tipped pumpkin juice on him by accident in the hallway. Stupid, simpleton Creevey, Potter worshipper extraordinaire. He had nearly wet his pants when he looked up at who he had spilt the juice on. Draco smirked, squirming in the leather seat of the limousine.
Sighing, he looked out of the darkly tinted, almost black windows.
"Wave bye-bye Draco...you won't get to Hogwarts for six-weeks." The school annoyed him. He had no real friends, other than Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle, much as he liked them, were useless now he could take care of himself. He was no longer than snivelling, snot-faced brat he had been in the first year, he thought, rolling his eyes. If he saw his younger self now, he would attempt Avada Kedrava almost instantaneously. How did everybody put up with him? No wonder he had next to no friends now. And he had no respect. Everybody just put up with him because they were scared of his mother. He snarled and cursed, throwing his scrunched up robe across the other side of the limo. The driver looked up calmly, winding the partition down.
"Did you say something, Master Draco?"
"I said nothing, Jenkinson. Keep driving."
________________________________________________________________________________
Eventually they were there. Draco watched sulkily as they rolled up the long driveway, the gates opening as they passed the carefully manicured lawns. It was like something out of a movie, he thought with disgust. If it hadn't been for mother, his father and himself would have been quite happy in a two-storey apartment somewhere. His mother was a leech. She had married his father purely for the money. She had destroyed the Malfoy name. She was a scheming, manipulative, self-involved bitch. Hence the name Narcissa.
Draco fondly remembered the day he had found out the meaning of her name. He had been reading through his school books when his father had knocked gently on the door.
"Draco." He had said, entering with that sad and wizened smile on his face.
"I brought you something." He had sat on the bed as Draco had opened the storybook to the page marked. His first thought was that he was a little old for fairytales, but then when he began reading he couldn't stop laughing. It was some Greek tale about a guy called Narcissus who was totally in love with himself, and eventually died because he couldn't love another, wouldn't eat or sleep because he simply couldn't drag himself away from his reflection. His father had watched him warmly, that smile and those saddened eyes. He loathed that look, it made him look weak, and Malfoy family members were not weak. But his thoughts crumbled as he remembered his family line. All the men were extremely intelligent, and in doing so sought out wives of high intelligence...which was usually their undoing, when the overly-intelligent wife thought of some scheme to ruin them for their money. It was actually a wonder the Malfoy line was still present, and that Draco even existed today. And he felt it. He felt that same hunger for intelligence, that raw passion that he had. And he knew who had it.
"Master Draco?" Jenkinson was holding the door open, and it was apparent he had been doing so for quite some time now.
"Thank you Jenkinson." He stepped out and sauntered up the grand steps of the mansion.
________________________________________________________________________________
"Draco! What a pleasant surprise." His father looked up from his work. He was hunched over his work, and looked tired and exhausted. But happy nonetheless. Draco glanced around the dimly lit room and sighed, crossing over to the windows to open the curtains.
"Hello Father. Did Mother not tell you I was coming?"
"What a clever idea Draco, you really are such a clever boy." His father ignored the question, referring instead to the flood of light Draco had allowed into the room.
"Thank you Father." He drawled lightly.
"I've almost got it Draco, would you like to see?" His father was an extremely intelligent man, though certainly weak-willed. He had a job in the Ministry, and liked to create spells in his past time. Although, sometimes his obsession tended to intrude on his work hours as he got overly enthusiastic.
"Of course!" He draped himself on the armrest of the chair, as his father searched for his wand.
"It's in front of you, Father." It was all he could do to keep from laughing. His father, the absent-minded twit he was had accidentally been using his wand as a quill, without noticing. He blushed.
"Oh, thank you for pointing that out, Draco. Are you ready?" He wiped the ink off the point of the wand with his hankerchief as Draco smirked.
He waved his wand in a complicated pattern, muttering some ancient Latin that Draco didn't quite understand.
Suddenly it was as if the floor fell away, and they were lost in a tunnel of beautiful colours, refracting like a rainbow through crystal. The colours were everywhere, swirling around them as they kept falling, rushing and rushing and suddenly everything went black...
Draco awoke in a beautiful cave, with icy stalagtites and stalagmites. His father was sitting on a flat rock nearby, watching him carefully.
"Ah...slight error that I forgot to re-write...we fell into the lake. I dragged you out." A slight smirk was on his face as Draco took in the scenery. A lake, about half the size of the one at Hogwarts was nearby, the water sparkling, almost impossibly pure. The surrounding sand was a cool blue in the darkness of the cave, and the crystal formations glittered and sparkled.
"Where are we?" Draco was in awe.
"This is my mind, Draco. A physical representation." (A/N: Insert the representations as you please, LOL...stalgtites for a sharp mind, water for flexibility...I dunno.) It was then that Draco noticed the shadows around the edges, but there was too much light for them to be noticeable.
The room had no routes out, nor any windows. The light reflecting off the formations and the surface of the lake came from a smooth cube of glass hanging in mid-air, humming and vibrating as it sent out light. Draco dared not ask what it was.
"Are you ready to go back, Draco?" His father looked at him, almost as if he was on the point of saying something, but was held back, wasn't allowed.
Draco looked at his father, and then his gaze returned to the lake.
"What would happen if I drank from there, Dad?" Lucius's face took on an interesting contortion, as he tried valiantly to scan every single possibility. But, eventually he drew a blank.
"I have no idea. And we're not about to experiment. Come Draco, let's go home." His titan-haired son straggled towards him, clothes still dripping. His father muttered something, and they were surrounded by a halo of light.
They arrived back in the study just as the door banged open.
"Draco! I have been looking for you everywhere!" Narcissa looked set to kill, and Lucius felt a slight shudder trace down his spine. His wife looked young, much younger than her age of 38. She looked around 21, 22. Her ash blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, making the ends of her violet eyes slope back into an even eviller expression. Her lips slid back into a cruel smile.
Lucius felt his mind wandering, back to the days when her skin was peaches and cream and her lips like soft raspberries to him. A tall man, he had never understood girls, how they could be so small and petite. Narcissa had played on his weakness so easily. She was a small woman, even Draco, now 12, was eye to eye with her. And now, she was nothing more than Voldemort's whore. He had not protested when she requested they join the ranks of the Death Eaters. And even now, when Voldemort greeted him, he had no idea how to treat Lucius. He was an enigma. And Draco was quickly filling in his father's footsteps. One day he'd subject to Narcissa's every whim and fancy. The next he'd beat her down to tears, verbally. If Lucius and the Malfoy forefather's were anything to go by, Draco would reach his growth spurt very soon. He'd be able to throw Narcissa around like a ragdoll. And God, how Lucius awaited that day.
"The Lord wishes to see you Draco. I will commence your training next week, be ready." She smirked, it pained Lucius so when he saw Draco mimick his mother's expressions. He said nothing, instead gazing at the woman coldly.
"But of course, _Mother_." He spat out. She stood there, as if waiting for something.
"Yes? You are no longer required in my presence, woman. Go back to your room and wait for your employer, dirty whore." Lucius, who had been watching quietly, started, but fought not to show it. His insides churned. Draco understood. Draco _understood_. And he was taunting the demon-woman.
Narcissa's eyes narrowed.
"You will not speak like that to me, son."
"I shall speak how I like. I carry the Malfoy name. Without that name you would be nothing, wench. You would be out in the Muggle-world, working your ass off. Or you would be prostituting yourself somewhere in Hogsmeade."
Lucius watched, his heart leaping for joy at his son, who was verbally tearing his mother down with every passing second.
"I will not tolerate sub-ordinance!" Narcissa shrieked, leaping for Draco. Lucius stood. Narcissa was a very strong woman, both in will and physical form, but she was no match for Lucius.
"Defending your spawn, Lucius? So kind, especially seeing as you weren't the one to carry him for nine months." She paused to wipe spittle from the corner of her mouth delicately. Those long manicured nails, many were the night he had felt them digging into the tender tanned flesh of his shoulderblades....but no was not the time to remember things such as that. Draco was in danger.
Draco strode across to his mother, a concerted effort for a 12 year old. But Draco pulled it off. He always could.
"Leave Father out of it, Mother. Go back to your room."
"No Draco. You go to your room." It was all Lucius could do to stop from snorting. Did they realise how childish they sounded? He spoke, and his voice sounded hoarse and ill-used.
"Draco shall stay. Narcissa, return to our room and I will come by later." She positively seethed, and was ready to open her mouth.
"It would do you good to remember who I am Narcissa. Who funds your childish Death Eater exploits?" Her mouth was upturned in a smirk now, she had regained self-control.
"Childish? Hardly, you yourself carry the Dark Mark, Lucius."
"Go to your room, woman!" He thundered.
With one last glance at Draco, she hissed
"You cannot hide behind your father forever, Draco." And left. Draco shuddered.
Those words brought back a memory.
Draco was in the greenhouse, on a detention with a Ravenclaw girl, Summer. She had shyly admitted her affections for him, and he, in return had kissed her. Then she had kissed him. And it had led to something a little more than kissing.
"Oh Draco." She had murmured in her soft southern drawl. He pushed his fingers further inside her, and she cried out as she climaxed, her hands tangling in his hair.
She had given him a sad glance as she left.
"I know what you're really like Draco."
"I never gave you the right to call me Draco." He had said softly.
"Don't try and hide behind your father. You can't hide forever." And she had left. Funny how everybody at Hogwarts seemed to believe that it was his father that was the big bad Death Eater. Well maybe he was, but the real evil at 'home' was his scheming bitch of a mother.
And it was funny, he always hoped in his dreams that she was his evil step-mother, and somewhere in Heaven his real mother smiled down on him, waiting for the day her little Draco would return to her. And her loving husband. And they could be a happy family once more.
________________________________________________________________________________
Somebody knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in." Narcissa was brooding.
"Oh. It's you." She returned to brushing her hair.
"I don't understand why you delight in provoking him." He sighed, flopping onto the bed. Dinner had been a sordid affair, with Draco only speaking to his father, and his mother ignoring everybody except the house-elf that brought their food, and that was just to harshly belittle it with all the power she possessed.
"The boy needs to toughen up." She saw his reflection in the mirror, he was lying down behind her, one arm behind his head, the other trying to catch a feather drifting in the air. Her face softened. One, she had married Lucius for his money. Two, she had married him for his looks. He still retained a firm washboard stomach from the schooldays, and from teaching Draco to play Quidditch. She did like to see him happy. Not if it interfered with her own happiness though.
She wasn't going about things the right way. Turning around, she slid off the chair.
"Lucius...darling, you do know I don't like to see you unhappy." She purred. Lucius sighed. He knew what his wife was up to.
"Yes, Narcissa?" She had that untrustworthy gleam in her eyes as she clambered ontop of him.
"So I *lick* agree to *lick* make peace with *lick* Draco. Would that *lick, kiss* make you *nibble* happy, darling?"
'The bitch is back at my money again.' Lucius thought as the blonde head made it's way south of his chest.
"Very." He looked lovingly into his wife's eyes. However good an actor Narcissa was, Lucius was better.
"Oh good...I'm so happy I can help you baby." Lucius closed his eyes as Narcissa's mouth engulfed him, trying to force the thought from his mind that she had done this to Voldemort so many times before.
A/N: lots of spelling errors in here...will somebody help me???