Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 2: Pain

Lucius had had the disturbing suspicion that the attacker had been Crouch, but now that he knew, he had to decide what steps to take. Was avenging Draco important enough to risk betraying the Dark Lord? Lucius looked down into Draco's thin, fear ravaged face and knew immediately that it was.

"Thank you, son," Lucius smiled faintly, "You are very brave, and I will eliminate the man that did this to you."

Draco flushed in embarrassment and muttered, "I don't feel brave."

Lucius pulled Draco closer to him, "You are, whether you feel it or not." Draco did not respond. Lucius just held him a bit before suggesting, "Would you like a bath?"

Draco shrugged. Lucius decided to interpret that as a yes, so he eased off the bed and lifted Draco in his arms. Once Draco, in his less than observant state, realized what Lucius was doing, he protested, "Father! I can walk!"

Lucius smiled inwardly; there was still some fight left in the boy. Outwardly, he looked seriously at Draco and said, "I cannot take the chance of you fainting again and hitting your head."

Draco frowned at him. "But you will leave me alone to bathe, won't you?"

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you know I can't."

Draco froze in Lucius' arms. "I don't want a bath, father."

"Don't be silly. I'm your father, I've given you baths before."

Draco looked offended. "When?"

"Let me see... I believe that the last time was when you were seven and you had a terrible fever. I'm not surprised you don't remember; you were quite delirious."

"A fever? I don't remember that. Couldn't the mediwizards cure it?"

"Not right off; it was something that you caught from playing with a griffin cub. The original cure had runespoor scales in it; you know you are allergic runespoor in any form. It's took Severus six days to create a new antidote."

"Professor Snape cured me?"

"Yes. It was the first time I had had occasion to interact with him after the war. I don't believe that he has ever trusted me since he turned to Dumbledore, but he took quite a liking to you. He said you had an impressive knowledge of potions for a seven year old, and an ill one at that." Lucius gently lowered Draco to sit on the side of the boy's serpentine tub.

Draco frowned, confusion shadowing his eyes. "Professor Snape said that?"

Lucius started the water running. "Indeed he did. And well he should have; it's not every seven-year-old that knows the difference between powdered and crushed dragon scales."

"I always thought that he was nice to me because he was trying to curry your favor."

Lucius, satisfied with the temperature of the water, plugged the drain. "Merlin, no! Severus cares little for politics, and as I said, he does not trust me."

Draco smiled a little to himself; Lucius hoped that this new information would help restore the boy's confidence. Lucius also took advantage of the momentary improvement in his son's mood to attempt to get on with the bath. "Father! I can undress myself!" Draco protested indignantly.

Lucius inclined his head in a deferential fashion, but while Draco handled the buttons all right, he lacked the strength to stand and step out of the dressing gown Dibby had changed him into during Uberan's examination.

Lucius caught Draco before he fell, removed his clothes, and gently lowered him into the warm, soapy water. Draco's face burned with humiliation, and he refused to look at Lucius. But Lucius would not let Draco stew in his misery; he forced Draco to look in his eyes and said, "I know you feel helpless right now, but you cannot dwell on it. I'm here to help you through this. Now close your eyes." When Draco's eyes were firmly shut, Lucius took a cloth and carefully washed the tear stains from his son's face.

O~O~O~O~O

"But, father, I ate just a few of hour ago," Draco moaned. Draco must have been feeling better, Lucius thought, he was complaining.

"That was lunch," Lucius explained patiently, while he arranged the blankets around Draco's shoulders, "This is dinner. You realize, of course, that most people eat at least three times a day." That last bit was said with the trademark Malfoy smirk; Lucius felt that a small battle of wills might help bring Draco back to himself.

"Did you?" Draco remarked acidly; he was clearly in a foul mood.

"Did I what?"

"Did you eat lunch today?" Ah, a point to Draco.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

Draco frowned; Lucius had known that he hadn't. "Tell you what; we'll both have dinner now and something before bed, and we'll be even," Lucius continued gently, to ease the sting of his victory. Draco pouted angrily, but Lucius recognized concession when he saw it. When Dibby arrived with Draco's dinner, Lucius sent her back to get something for himself. True to their deal, Draco didn't touch his dinner until Lucius had started his.

But even then, Draco just picked at his food. Lucius let him be for a few minutes; he knew that Draco was suffering terribly inside his own mind. But Lucius became concerned when Draco started rubbing his forearms in agitation. Lucius had noticed Draco staring at them in the bath. "What is the matter?"

Draco didn't answer, but Lucius could tell he was fighting back tears. Lucius was actually impressed by Draco's strength; he had expected the boy to break down before now. Lucius moved the tray and set his own plate aside so that he could take Draco in his arms. Draco did not acknowledge him; he just kept rubbing his forearms. "Draco, what is the matter? You can tell me." A few tears fell from Draco's tightly closed eyes, but he still did not answer.

Lucius held Draco and rubbed his trembling back, trying to think of what to say. Finally realizing what was keeping Draco from crying in earnest, he said, "It's all right to cry, son. You'll feel better for it." That was it; Draco clung to Lucius as he let the harsh sobs course though his frail body. Lucius held him tightly, like he had when Draco was seven and ravaged by fever; he was just as ill now, but now the sickness was within his mind as well and could not be cured by a simple potion.

Lucius tried to offer what comfort he could, but he had never learned how, and he worried that he wasn't doing it correctly. But Draco was strong; he'd get through this, wouldn't he?

Draco's sobs eventually died down, but he continued to hold onto Lucius with all his rapidly failing strength. Lucius continued to comfort Draco as best he could; he pulled an impossibly soft handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the last of Draco's tears. "Do you feel better?"

Surprisingly, Draco nodded. Lucius smiled and kissed he top of Draco's head. He had never done that before; he had always considered it a silly, childish thing to do, but at this moment, he could not help himself. Draco just cuddled closer to him.

Lucius did not want to shatter the fragile cloud of peacefulness that had descended, but the question had to be asked or Draco's wounds would never really heal. "Draco, why did you cut yourself?" All of the self-inflicted cuts had been on Draco's forearms, and Lucius had realized while Draco had been crying that that was probably why Draco had been rubbing them.

Draco froze a minute before answering. "I... I wanted the scars."

"Why?"

"I... I..." Draco seemed on the edge of tears again. "I wanted to make myself ugly so that he wouldn't want me anymore," he sobbed.

Ugly? Draco, his beautiful child, had wanted to make himself ugly? "Oh, Draco, my beautiful boy, I swear on all that is precious to me that he will never harm you again."

Draco began sobbing again, but he soon ran out of tears. He lay in Lucius' arms while Lucius tried to figure out what to do. It was clear that Draco was so exhausted that he could barley move, and it seemed like a cruelty to force him to eat, but Lucius feared the consequences should he deviate from the diet Dr. Uberan had prescribed.

Finally, Lucius decided to feed Draco himself. He tore off small pieces of bread and soaked them in broth before pushing them into Draco's mouth one by one. It was a struggle to get Draco to accept each new piece, but his reluctance seemed to spring from fatigue more than anything else.

After the bread was gone, Lucius commanded Dibby to remove the tray then tucked an already seeping Draco into bed. Lucius settled into the chair still by Draco's bed, and prepared to spend the rest of the evening at his son's side, lest the boy have more nightmares. As he sat, he considered how best to dispose of Crouch jr.

Lucius wanted to hurt Crouch, wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt Draco, but how could he hurt someone who had escaped Azkaban, who cared for nothing, not even himself, except... And there was his answer. The only thing that meant anything to Crouch was the Dark Lord's rising. The worst thing Lucius could do to Crouch was to destroy the Dark Lord. And surprisingly, to even himself, Lucius was willing to do exactly that.

Lucius had joined the Dark Lord for two reasons. In the short term, he had been concerned with his own survival; as he had failed again and again to measure up to Abraxas ' insane expectations, which had only increased as he got older, Abraxas had become more and more violent. Lucius had been, and still was, convinced that Abraxas would have killed him if the Dark Lord had not killed Abraxas first. The Dark Lord had seemed so caring; he had understood how badly fathers could mistreat their sons, or so he said. He had certainly shown more concern for Lucius' predicament than any of the teachers at school had. That blind fool Dumbledore helped his precious Gryffindors get away with attempted murder, but let a Slytherin be tortured by his father and the old man didn't care a bit. The Dark Lord had been sympathetic, and he had provided what Lucius had most needed: protection from Abraxas.

But after Abraxas ' death, Lucius had still believed in the Dark Lord out of more than just gratitude. Even then, years before Draco was born, he had been devoted to the idea of being an ideal father. He had wanted his child, his pureblooded child, to live in a world where everyone would respect him and recognize him for the perfection that he was. Lucius believed in the Dark Lord's dogma because of Draco. And when he had abandoned the cause after the Dark Lord's encounter with the Potter boy, that also had been for Draco.

Even then, he had recognized that Narcissa would never be the kind of mother Draco deserved, and if Lucius had gone to Azkaban, Draco would have had no one to care for him. And now there was still nothing as important to Lucius as Draco. Draco deserved to be respected and appreciated by the wizarding world, but Lucius could see now that the Dar- Riddle, was not the means to accomplish such a task. And if Lucius were truly honest with himself, he had doubted for years. The diary business two years ago had been something of a test; a test that Riddle had failed.

Lucius knew that Riddle was weak now, but that did not mean he would fall to a simple Avada Kedavra; and in any case, Lucius wanted to keep his name out of it for Draco's sake. What to do then? Lucius was used to getting others to do his dirty work, it was what had kept him out of Azkaban after the war, but who was suited to this task?

Not his usual cronies, of course; they all supported Riddle, and were too stupid to realize how foolish they had been for believing in him. Dumbledore could easily wipe Riddle out with the information Lucius had, but he was bound to ask uncomfortable questions, and Lucius knew that he did not have the patience to deal with the insufferable man. Severus could probably manage it as well, but he still did not trust Lucius. The potions master would probably do it for Draco's sake, but Lucius did not want Draco involved in any way. The Ministry? No, Fudge was much too stupid to trust with such an important task. Dumbledore could keep the man focused, but Lucius was still unwilling to deal with the old codger. But could he perhaps involve Dumbledore without actually having to speak to him?

Lucius had to find a go-between, but who would trust Lucius and also be trusted by Dumbledore? No one. Lucius considered sending the information anonymously, but Dumbledore would not be stupid enough to act on that kind of accusation unless it was from a source he knew and trusted. However, the old man was prone to putting his trust in the stupidest of individuals; certainly one of them would be willing to act on anonymous information?

The perfect solution formed in Lucius' mind: the Potter boy, of course! He and his little friends always seemed to solve some great mystery every year; all Lucius had to do was to give them enough of a clue to figure out "Moody's" true identity, and Dumbledore would take it from there. Even if the ministry got involved, Dumbledore was sure to beat them to Riddle. It was a perfect plan, and even if he was eventually discovered as the source of the information, Dumbledore liked his secrets; he would let Potter and his cronies take all the glory for Riddle's demise.

Having decided on a course of action, Lucius was able to relax slightly. His task now was to figure out how to tell the Potter boy what he needed to know. Considering that Potter had trusted the 'boy' inside Riddle's diary two years ago, Lucius could probably even send Potter a simple note by owl, and the boy would likely to act on it. And if Potter believed that the note was from his lunatic godfather, he'd likely jump of a cliff if it told him to.

That shouldn't be too difficult. All Lucius had to do was find a sample of Black's handwriting, forge a note, and find a wild bird to deliver it. He could obtain a handwriting sample from the ministry in the morning, when he went in to retrieve some things from his office there. He would decide what to write then, and send it that night. With any luck, Riddle would be dead within the week.

That decided, Lucius put Crouch jr. and Riddle out of his mind; tonight he wanted to give Draco his undivided attention. Lucius forced himself to eat a bit more; he did not want Draco refusing to eat later because Lucius had broken their deal. Draco seemed to sleep peacefully for several hours, for which Lucius was thankful. He constantly checked to make sure that Draco was warm enough, and started to feel frustrated that he couldn't do more.

Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Lucius felt a deep sadness welling up in him. Crouch had attacked Draco, but whether he had intended it or not, he had wounded Lucius as well. When Abraxas had died, Lucius had convinced himself that that period in his life was over, and he would never have to face anything like it again; but now he had been confronted with something even worse. The illusion of safety that he had worked hard at cultivating for the last fifteen years had shattered. Lucius was shocked to discover tears running down his face.

"Father?"

Lucius' head snapped up. "Draco? What are you doing awake?"

Draco shrugged tiredly, but Lucius could tell from the glazed look in the boy's eyes that Draco had not, in fact, entirely awoken. Lucius stroked Draco's cheek lovingly. "Go back to sleep, son; you need to rest."

Draco seemed only too willing to comply, but before he succumbed to the darkness completely, he murmured, half consciously, "It's all right to cry, father. You'll feel better for it."

Lucius' eyes widened alarmingly. What did that mean? Did Draco really care about how Lucius was feeling enough to allow for a moment of weakness? If so, he was the first person ever in Lucius' life to do so. But it was also possible, if not likely, that Draco, in his half-conscious state, was merely repeating what Lucius had told him earlier.

Lucius was unwilling to take the chance. He viciously suppressed his emotions and wiped the offending tears from his silver eyes. Draco was his son; he should not have to expend his precious energy looking after Lucius. In fact, considering Draco's condition, Lucius considered it a betrayal to allow the boy to do so. Lucius would have time enough to look after himself once Draco had recovered. Lucius banished Abraxas to the darkest corner of his mind and hoped that the old man would stay there.

O~O~O~O~O

"Draco? You must wake up; you have to eat. Come now, precious, open your eyes." Lucius truly did hate to wake the boy; he looked so peaceful. But he also looked far too thin and Lucius knew that Draco had to eat.

Draco was not being cooperative. He moaned and snuggled deeper into the blankets. Lucius didn't know if Draco was awake or not, and he didn't want to frighten the boy by raising his voice or shaking him, but his gentle inquiries were being ignored. Lucius finally had to pry the blankets from Draco's hands and pull them away from his skinny body. Draco's eyes snapped open at the sudden cold. "Draco," Lucius repeated, "Just eat a little for me and you can go right back to sleep."

Draco did not protest, but he did not really consent either. He was completely limp as Lucius propped him into a sitting position and again draped the blankets over his bony shoulders. He was also either too tired or too contrary to feed himself, and Lucius fed him like before. Lucius didn't really mind; it reminded him of when Draco had been a baby. That was the first time in Lucius' life when he had felt any semblance of contentment with his life. The war aside, Abraxas had been dead for over five years, and Draco had been Lucius' happy, beautiful, perfect baby. Draco was far from happy now, and terribly ill as well, but Lucius had never felt more at peace than when he held his son in his arms.

When Draco had eaten enough to satisfy Dr. Uberan's requirements, Lucius tucked him back into bed, and had some bread himself just so that he wouldn't have to lie if Draco brought it up tomorrow. Lucius also had Dibby bring him some strongly caffeinated tea; he wanted to be as alert as possible so that he could detect any distress Draco might be in.

Draco slept peacefully for a few hours, but he eventually started moaning and whimpering again. This time, however, he fought back when Lucius tried to shake him awake. Lucius was too worried about Draco to notice the bloody scratches Draco's brittle fingernails had carved in Lucius cheek, but when Draco finally woke, he noticed the blood immediately. "Father?" he whispered hoarsely, "I hurt you..."

Lucius noticed the cuts when Draco touched them hesitantly, and when Lucius brushed them with his own fingers, they came away red. But more importantly, Draco seemed terrified of Lucius' reaction to the accidental injury. The boy was cowering in fear and muttering compulsively, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, father. I'm sorry, please... I'm sorry..."

"Hush," Lucius soothed, "It was an accident. It's all right..." but Draco did not seem to be listening. He was still babbling apologies and panting in fear. He looked dangerously close to hyperventilation, and when Lucius tried to get his attention by grabbing his shoulder, Draco curled up into a defensive ball and started sobbing. It occurred to Lucius that Draco was probably confronting a memory of Crouch. The same thing had happened to Lucius on occasion, but never having had someone there to bring him out of it, he had no idea how to help his son.

Eventually, the memory seemed to end, and Draco uncurled a bit, but he continued to cry. He finally let Lucius gather him up in his arms and rock him gently. "I'm sorry, father," Draco sobbed.

Lucius kissed the top of Draco head. "It's all right, my dragon. You couldn't help it. I am going to get the bastard that did this to you, and he will beg for death before the end."

But this did not seem to comfort Draco. "No, father," he pleaded, "Please don't leave me."

"Hush, precious. I won't leave you. I'll let those insipid Gryffindors do the dirty work. 'Moody' has a few secrets that will easily get him the dementor's kiss, and your name need never come up."

"Professor Moody is a Death Eater?" Draco sniffed. Clever boy; even as upset as he was, he'd figured out Lucius' intentionally ambiguous comment immediately. Lucius might as well acknowledge the achievement.

"Well done, Draco. Yes, he is a Death Eater."

"But I thought professor Moody was an auror."

Ah, the moment of truth, "He is, but the man that attacked you is not Mad-Eye Moody. He is an impostor by the name of Barty Crouch jr. His mission was to deliver the Potter brat into the Dark Lord's hands, but now I see that he is a menace and needs to be destroyed."

Draco sat up and looked into Lucius' eyes suspiciously. "But if he is captured, won't that put the Dark Lord in danger?"

"It will probably ensure his permanent defeat, actually, but I see now that he is not the savior he made himself out to be. He deserves to be defeated if he puts his trust in a man that preys on pureblooded children."

"You... you'd betray that Dark Lord for me?" Draco asked hesitantly.

Lucius looked deep into Draco's eyes and his heart bled with the sadness he saw in them. "In an instant," he replied firmly. Draco appeared to be at a loss for words, so Lucius pulled him into a close embrace and added, "Nothing at all matters to me except you, my precious child." Lucius' heart broke further when Draco started crying again.

"I'm sorry, father," he cried, "For being so weak. You shouldn't have to give up our future because of me."

Lucius held Draco closer. "Nonsense. I'm not giving anything up, just correcting a mistake in judgment I made long ago. Now try to rest; you must be exhausted." But Lucius continued to hold Draco until his tears stopped falling.

O~O~O~O~O

The night had been anything but restful for either of them. Draco had cried himself to sleep in his father's arms, but he had been awakened no less than three more times by nightmares about Crouch. When Lucius had questioned him about how he had been sleeping at school, Draco was evasive but eventually admitted that he had been having nightmares every night for weeks. He had placed a silencing charm on the curtains of his bed so that his roommates would not hear him screaming. Lucius had also come to realize that Crouch had liked it when Draco screamed and cried, which explained much about Draco's present behavior.

Now, at six in the morning, Draco was so exhausted that he could barely move, but he was too afraid to try to sleep. Lucius, who could barely keep his own eyes open, gave up on trying to lull him to sleep. He knew that it was both impossible and cruel; Draco shouldn't have to relive *that* anymore tonight. Lucius finally decided to kick off his boots and climb into bed with Draco, so that he could hold him comfortably for a couple of hours before breakfast.

Lucius was awakened by Dibby's arrival at eight with no memory of falling asleep. Draco had wrapped his thin arms around Lucius' chest and rested his head against Lucius' shoulder, but he was obviously awake. Lucius sat up gingerly and tried to shake the fog from his mind. "Did you sleep?" he asked Draco.

Draco shook his head. "No, but..."

"But?"

"But... thanks for staying with me. It was... nice."

Lucius hugged him. "You're my son, how could I do anything else? And..." this part was difficult; Lucius had never sincerely apologized to anyone in his life, "I am sorry for falling asleep; I did not mean to do that." Draco just hugged him back, burying his face in Lucius' neck. Lucius would have been touched if he hadn't immediately recognized Draco's ploy to get out of eating breakfast.

"Clever, Draco, but you have to eat now." Draco didn't move, and he resisted Lucius' attempts to dislodge him. "Now, now, Draco, you know you have to eat. Be a good boy and let go of father." Lucius could feel Draco frowning at that patronization, but he was too smart to fall for Lucius' trick; Draco just tightened his grip on Lucius. Lucius sighed, "Please don't do this, Draco. I don't like to force you to do something you don't want to do-"

Draco snorted in disgust and Lucius froze. "What was that supposed to mean?" Lucius asked accusingly. Draco didn't answer, but Lucius could feel him start to shake. "What did you mean by that, Draco?" Lucius repeated in a gentler tone of voice.

"I... I'm sorry, father," Draco answered, his voice muffled and halting, "I didn't mean anything by it."

Lucius knew that he had meant something, and he had a fairly good idea what it was, but he decided to let it drop for the time being. He did not want to get into a discussion about the mistakes he had made with Draco until he and Draco were both thinking clearly. Lucius stroked Draco's back lightly, "It's all right, son, but would you eat for me, please?" This time, Draco nodded and slowly let go of Lucius and sat up on his own. He looked tired and miserable, and he refused to look directly at Lucius.

Lucius eased himself off the bed and sank into the chair while Draco began breakfast. Lucius was also thoroughly exhausted, but he began his own breakfast obediently when Draco asked pointedly why he wasn't eating. All in all, the last thing Lucius wanted to do today was visit the Ministry, but he needed that sample of Black's writing, and if he did not show up to verify his leave of absence, there would be questions and possible visits to Malfoy Manor by nosy Ministry officials; that was not to be tolerated.

Fortunately, Draco fell asleep immediately after breakfast, so Lucius would not have to debate him about going. If Lucius was lucky, he could be there and back before Draco woke up. Just in case, Lucius wrote Draco a quick note:

Draco,

I've gone to the Ministry to verify my leave of absence and collect some things from my office. I should be gone no longer than an hour. I'll leave Dibby by your bed in case you need anything while I'm gone. Keep warm and try to rest.

love,

Father

Lucius left the note on the bedside table and renewed the heating charm on Draco's blankets before giving Dibby her orders and leaving the room. Realizing that he had been wearing the same clothes for almost 24 hours, he cast a freshening charm on himself before flooing directly to the Ministry. Lucius decided to get the sample of Black's writing last; he wanted to lower his chances of getting caught with any documents he was not supposed to have. He retrieved the few items from his office that he wanted to take (some papers and a couple of photographs of Draco at ages three and thirteen), shrank them, and placed them in his pockets.

He then went to the office of his superior, Hecate Hillard. Hillard was in a meeting, but Terrance, her secretary, told Lucius that she had approved his leave and hoped that Draco would feel better soon. Lucius asked Terrance to thank Hillard for him, and immediately headed down to records. It was just Lucius' luck that he ran into the Weasley whelp at the front doors to the records vault.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," the boy greeted coldly. Lucius was surprised to see him there; he'd have figured that Crouch sr.'s disappearance would be keeping the little brown nose too busy to go down and retrieve documents himself. But more important than why the muggle-lover was here, was how Lucius was going to get the document he needed without giving the brat any clues about what he was truly after.

Pointedly ignoring the greeting, Lucius walked into the vault and, as opposed to looking under 'B', where Weasley might be able to see what he what document he pulled, he marched all the way down to 'P'. Black was Potter's godfather, and was an official witness to James Potter's wedding; he must have signed at least one document relating to the Potters.

Sure enough, the name 'Sirius Black' was written in a nearly illegible scrawl on the bottom of the Potters' marriage certificate. Lucius cast a cloning charm on the document, rolled it up, and put it in his pocket. Relived at the easy discovery, Lucius hurried back to the atrium and flooed home.

What Lucius did not realize was that during lunch that day, Percy Weasley went back down to records and cast an aura charm (the aura charm is used to indicate, roughly, where an individual has been within the past few hours). The charm indicated that the file Lucius had been snooping through was in cabinet #3420: Post-Pou. Percy jumped to the only logical conclusion: what villainy, exactly, did Malfoy have planned, and how did it involve Harry?

* End Chapter 2 *