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 4: Fear
Lucius woke about half an hour before he had to wake Draco. His back ached from sleeping in that infernal chair, and he walked around the room a few times, trying to work out the soreness. When that didn't work, he ordered Dibby to fetch a pain-relieving potion. He also ordered her to bring the Daily Prophet when it arrived; he wanted to see if Potter and his toadies had figured out the note yet.
Like yesterday, Draco was difficult to wake. He was less playful, though, and that was disappointing. He didn't speak, but ate breakfast without having to be told. Lucius did not know if Draco was tired or depressed or both, so he resorted to asking questions. "How are you feeling today? "
"Fine," Draco mumbled. His voice sounded odd, sort of muffled.
Lucius frowned. "Are you sure? You don't sound right."
Draco tried to answer, but he ended up sneezing instead. Lucius placed a hand on Draco's forehead; it felt warm. "I think you've caught a cold. I'm going to call on Doctor-"
"No!" Draco exclaimed, but the effort set him coughing harshly. Lucius held a glass pumpkin juice against Draco's lips and helped him take a few sips.
"Hush, Draco. I was just going to say that I need Doctor Uberan's approval to give you some pepperup. You won't have to see him, all right?"
"Fine," Draco pouted, his sinuses clearly clogged up.
Lucius had Dibby dispose of the dishes, and he pulled the curtains around Draco's bed so that the boy wouldn't see Doctor Uberan's face in the fire. Distracted by Draco's illness, Lucius simply tossed the newspaper onto the floor when Dibby timidly handed it to him. He did not so much as glance at it. "Doctor Uberan!" Lucius commanded quietly so Draco wouldn't hear.
"Lucius-"
"Keep your voice down; Draco is resting. I'm calling on you because he has caught a cold, and I need to know if it is safe to administer pepperup."
"What are his symptoms?"
"A mild fever, harsh cough, and congestion."
The doctor nodded, "Yes, pepperup should help with that, and I see no reason why he can't handle it. But don't give him any more than a dose. If the symptoms return, I'll have to pay him a visit."
"All right, then. Thank you, Augustus."
"Goodbye, Lucius. Tell Draco I hope he feels better." The spell ended and Lucius sent Dibby for a dose of the potion. He pulled back the curtains to find Draco lying on his side, pouting miserably. Lucius sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Draco's white-blond hair affectionately. "You'll feel better as soon as you have some pepperup." Draco just sniffed dejectedly.
A few minutes later, Dibby appeared with the potion. Lucius helped Draco sit up enough to drink then helped him lie down again as the smoke began pouring out of his ears. Lucius ordered Dibby to open the windows and Lucius conjured up a breeze to blow the smoke outside. Lucius did not want Draco breathing the stuff in his fragile health. Of course, due to the chill coming in from the open windows, he had to cast extra strong heating charms on the blankets, which he pulled up to Draco's chin. Draco fell asleep while the potion did its work, and Lucius finally had time to retrieve the paper. He smiled wryly at the headline.
ESCAPED DEATH EATER FOUND TEACHING AT HOGWARTS!
-Rita Skeeter
To the shock of all the wizarding world, this illustrious reporter has discovered that Azkaban, the supposedly inescapable wizarding prison, was escaped not once, but twice since the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This crack reporter was the first to bring you the story of the escape of mass murderer Sirius Black eighteen months ago, but not even my brilliant investigative skills could have deduced that Barty Crouch sr., Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, helped his son, convicted Death Eater Barty Crouch jr., escape the same prison 13 years ago, several months after Crouch sr. sentenced his son to life.
Even more shocking is that Hogwarts' ancient headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had allowed Crouch jr. to kidnap and impersonate a Hogwarts professor, former auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, since last August!
Frankly, this reporter feels it her duty to propose that the aged Headmaster might be losing hold of both the management of the school and his sanity, assuming he was ever in possession of either. Amazingly, Crouch jr.'s true identity was discovered by none other than the fourth triwizard champion, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter! The boy-who-lived...
Lucius skipped the lengthy paragraphs singing Potter's praises; he was under enough stress without having to read that rubbish. Finally, he came to the information he had been waiting for.
After a bungling and likely illegal interrogation conducted by Dumbledore and accused former Death Eater Severus Snape, Crouch jr. has been arrested by the ministry to be once again interrogated, tried, and hopefully, for the good of the wizarding world, given the dementor's kiss. All that, of course, assuming that the infantile Minister Fudge manages to place Crouch in the custody of officers who will not allow him to escape again.
Excellent, everything was going to plan. Lucius paused a moment to imagine Crouch's suffering, but it was oddly unsatisfying. Lucius had always been one for revenge, but this time he didn't feel that Crouch had gotten a fraction of what he deserved; there was nothing that could possibly be done that would have been fit punishment for what Crouch did to Draco. Lucius tossed the paper aside and sighed; what could he do? He guessed that all he could do was care for Draco as best he could. But Lucius knew that wasn't really good enough; Draco deserved better than that.
Eventually, the smoke from Draco's ears tapered off then stopped. Lucius closed the windows and terminated the wind charm. Draco slept on as Lucius started to pace restlessly, but Lucius was interrupted in his pacing by Draco's whimpers. Lucius sighed; Draco was having another nightmare. It was mild, however, and Draco woke when Lucius shook him. "Thank you," Draco muttered groggily.
Lucius hugged him. "Are you feeling better, precious?"
"Yeah, the pepperup helped. Thanks."
Lucius paused for a moment; he did not know if this was the right time to bring up Crouch, but Draco deserved to know what was going on. He knew no other way to say it than, "They arrested Crouch yesterday."
Draco did not cry; he did not even seem to react at all. He just sat there for a minute, silent and unmoving. Then he asked, "Will he be given the kiss?"
Lucius was very proud of Draco's strength. "Almost certainly."
"And if he isn't, could he escape again?"
"No. His father helped him escape last time; I'm sure that no one would be willing to do that now. Furthermore, the chance of him not getting the kiss is very small. He can't hurt you anymore."
"And the Dark Lord?"
"I suspect that that old fool Dumbledore is eliminating him as we speak." Draco didn't reply to that. He just sat and toyed with his fingers for a few minutes.
"Are you all right?" Lucius asked him. Draco looked up at Lucius with sad eyes but didn't say anything. Lucius once again took the boy into his arms, and Draco cuddled close, his eyes closed tightly against whatever it was he was feeling.
O~O~O~O~O
"I'm bored," Draco complained after lunch that day.
"Why don't you get some more rest?" Lucius offered.
Draco pouted dramatically, "I'm not sleepy. And I don't want any more nightmares."
"Hm," Lucius tried to think of an activity that would not be too strenuous for Draco. "How about chess?"
"All right. But not the French set; they don't like me." Lucius smiled.
"Are you up to commanding the Latin set or do you want the English one?"
"English."
"All right." Lucius commanded Dibby to fetch the chess set from his office. When she returned, Lucius set up the board on the tray from lunch, now cleared of dishes. "Do you want to be black or green?" he asked Draco, placing the marble and serpentine figures on the board.
"Green. The black king has an attitude."
"I do not, you feeble-minded swine!" the black king screeched.
"Don't call him that!" Lucius snarled.
"It's all right, father," Draco smiled shyly, "He's just a rock."
"Well, he shouldn't speak to you like that. No one should speak to you like that," Lucius replied defensively.
Draco blushed. "It's okay, really." The pieces arranged themselves on the board appropriately. "Um... pawn to D5," Draco commanded, pointedly looking at the board and not Lucius. Lucius could tell that Draco was embarrassed, but at least he was staring to believe that Lucius cared about him. Lucius smiled inwardly and turned his attention to the game.
O~O~O~O~O
"I'm sick of soup," Draco whined. "And quit laughing at me!" he huffed when Lucius smiled.
Lucius stopped smiling. "I'm not laughing at you, Draco. I'm simply happy to see you acting like yourself. And if you don't want soup, you don't have to have soup."
"I want ice cream, and what do you mean acting like myself? What do I act like?"
"You can't have just ice cream and you act like... you're sure to make you opinion known."
"You mean I whine, and what do you mean I can't have ice cream?" Draco pouted.
"I did not say you can't have ice cream, I said you couldn't have *just* ice cream."
"So you think I do?"
"Do what?"
"Whine."
"Of course not. You assert yourself. And what do you want besides ice cream?"
"You're lying to me, and I don't care as long as it isn't soup."
Lucius sighed, "I am not lying to you."
"Yes, you are. You're patronizing me. You think I can't figure out what you mean, but I can."
"And what exactly is it that you think I mean?"
"You think I whine." Lucius put his head in his hands; Draco could be absolutely impossible when he got like this.
"Father?" Draco asked, suddenly timid, "You're not angry with me, are you, father?" Lucius looked up, Draco had huddled deeper under the blankets and was watching Lucius with wide eyes over the edge of the comforter.
"Of course I'm not angry with you, my dragon; I'm just tired."
"Maybe you should sleep in your own bed tonight."
"No, I won't leave you alone."
"It's okay, really. Sleeping in that chair can't be good for your back."
Lucius arched and eyebrow. "My back? Just how old do you think I am?" Draco scooted even further under the blankets.
"Sorry, father." Lucius sighed inwardly; Draco may have accepted that Lucius cared for him, but he still seemed afraid of him. Lucius did not know if Draco's fear was the result of Crouch's attack or what Lucius had done in the past, but he did not capable of broaching that subject right now; so he let it go.
"How about pasta for dinner?" Lucius asked, placing a hand on Draco's pale hair.
"Okay," Draco pouted.
O~O~O~O~O
"Here is your potion," Lucius handed Draco the goblet of dreamless sleep, and the boy took it hesitantly. "Go on, drink it."
"Are you sure you'll be all right in that chair?"
"Don't worry; I'll be fine. Now drink."
"All right." Draco emptied the goblet dutifully, instantly falling asleep against the pillows. Lucius smiled fondly as he rearranged the pillows and tucked Draco in. He then once again ordered Dibby to watch the boy while he went to his own rooms to bathe and change clothes.
Lucius' own rooms were even more luxurious than Draco's, decorated in black, white, and silver. He selected a simple, black and green robe from the enormous wardrobe and walked to the bathroom. When he'd inherited the manor, Lucius had installed a new bathtub modeled after the one in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts; he had grown quite attached to that tub after two years as a prefect and a year as head boy. Lucius' tub, however, was black marble with silver plated fixtures and inlaid with a serpentine and white opal snake pattern. He turned on the water, added bubbles made with a calming potion, and sank languidly into the warm bath. As he washed his long hair, he tried to think of what to say the next time Draco reacted to him with fear.
Lucius climbed out of the tub when his fingers started to wrinkle, without having come up with anything to say to Draco. He toweled off, wrapped the cloth around his waist and reached for his wand so that he could cast a drying charm on his hair. But in his distraction and fatigue, he did not remember how slippery the wet marble could be. He leaned too far forward, lost his grip, and fell, hitting his head on the side of the tub. He collapsed on the floor unconscious, a pool of blood forming around his head.
O~O~O~O~O
"Father! Father, please wake up! Oh, please, father, wake up, please!" Lucius thought that he could hear his son's voice, though it sounded very far away, but the distress he could detect in the boy's tone made him try to make out the words. "Please, father! Wake up, please!"
Wake up? But he wasn't asleep, was he? He decided to open his eyes to see if he was asleep or not. "Oooh," Lucius couldn't help but groan in pain when the cruel light attacked his eyes. But it was, apparently, what Draco had been so desperately begging to hear.
"Father? Father, can you hear me? Please, say something, father." Lucius could hear the tears in Draco's voice.
His poor boy, he had already been through so much... wait a minute, "What are you doing out of bed?" Lucius growled.
"Father? Oh, father, I was so scared," Draco sobbed, "I woke up and you weren't there, and I thought that you were sleeping in your own bed, and I came in to check, and you weren't there, and I looked in here and I saw the blood, and I thought you were dead, and-"
"Hush, my dragon." Lucius opened his eyes again and tried to sit up. Draco tried to help him, but Lucius waved him off; he did not want the boy exerting himself. Lucius propped himself up using the side of the bathtub for leverage. He felt something sticky on the floor and he raised one hand to look; it was blood.
He looked at Draco, who still had tears pouring down his face. The boy's eyes were red and puffy; he had obviously been crying for some time. Lucius had no time to think about what to say to him, however, because just then Doctor Uberan entered the bathroom. "Dear Merlin, Lucius! What happened to you?"
"I fell..." Lucius replied vaguely, then snapped, "What are you doing here?"
"Your house elf appeared in my office and told me that you were dying. I'm happy to see that she was overreacting. Hold still so I can scan you." Uberan ran his wand about an inch above Lucius' body, focusing on his head, while Draco huddled against the side of the tub, sniffling. When Uberan was finished with his scan, Lucius pulled Draco into his arms before asking for the diagnosis.
"You have a concussion from the fall and few bruises. I should be able to heal everything easily once you're in bed." Doctor Uberan then helped Lucius to his feet and led him to the bedroom. Lucius tried to discourage Draco from helping, but Draco refused to be separated from his father. When they reached the bed, Draco finally let go (Lucius suspected that Draco wanted to put some distance between himself and Doctor Uberan) and stood off to the side, wringing his hands nervously until Lucius told him to go sit on the foot of the bed. Draco watched anxiously while Doctor Uberan wove healing spells and forced Lucius to drink potion after potion.
"Get some rest and take it easy for a few days, but after that, you should be fine," Uberan told Lucius when he was finished. He then offered to scan Draco once more, but the boy's eyes widened so alarmingly that Lucius immediately refused. "All right then. Call me if anything else happens."
Once Uberan was gone, Lucius called to Draco, "Come here, precious." Draco was at Lucius' side in a second, clinging to him tightly.
"Oh, father, I was so scared," he sobbed into Lucius' shoulder.
Lucius wrapped his arms around Draco's trembling body and tried to comfort him. "It's all right, I'm fine. Shhh, it's all right..." But as upset as Lucius was that he has frightened Draco so, he could not help but be touched by the worry Draco had shown for him. There wasn't anyone else in the world that cared about Lucius like that. In fact, Draco was probably the only person in the world who cared about Lucius at all.
Draco's crying tapered off quickly, and he looked up at Lucius with his large, shimmering eyes. "Aren't you cold, father?"
Cold? Lucius suddenly realized that he was wearing nothing except the towel he had wrapped around his waist last night. "Yes."
"I'll get you a some clothes-"
"No. You stay right there."
"But-"
"I mean it. Stay here." Lucius pushed himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed and yelled for Dibby to fetch him a dressing gown. He dressed then climbed under the blankets, taking Draco with him. The boy cuddled close, and Lucius knew that he should have ordered him to have breakfast, but he had neither the heart nor the energy to do it.
O~O~O~O~O
Lucius awoke around noon, his arms still wrapped around Draco. Draco was awake, his eyes half-lidded and staring into space, but he looked at Lucius solemnly when Lucius moved to sit up.
"Are you all right, father?" Draco asked softly.
Lucius smiled and ran a hand through Draco's hair. "I'm fine. How are you feeling?"
Draco shrugged. "Fine."
"Are you hungry?"
Draco blinked. "Actually, yes."
Miracle of miracles. Lucius smiled, "What would you like?"
"Something with chocolate."
"Chocolate? Only desserts have chocolate. What else do you want?"
"Chocolate chip pancakes aren't desserts."
"Chocolate chip pancakes? There's no such thing."
"Yes, there is; they have them at Hogwarts on Saturdays."
Lucius stared at him. "For how long?"
"Since first year."
"Have you started losing your teeth yet?"
Draco smiled. "Very funny, but I want chocolate chip pancakes."
"You're sure?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes."
"Well, all right." Lucius yelled for Dibby and ordered lunch for the two of them. Draco had to explain the chocolate chip pancakes to her. Dibby also delivered the newspaper. Lucius held the paper so that Draco could read the headline as well.
RETURN OF YOU-KNOW-WHO FOILED BY DUMBLEDORE AND BOY-WHO-LIVED!
-Rita Skeeter
This talented investigator was the first to discover that, as unbelievable as it may seem, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named was, in fact, not destroyed thirteen years ago by the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Sources now reveal that the dark wizard was merely extremely weakened when the killing curse he cast on Harry Potter rebounded off the boy and robbed the most feared wizard of our time of his physical body. According to the ministry, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named's spirit worked his way to the forests of Albania, where he murdered ministry employee Bertha Jorkins. He was then aided in returning to Britain by a rogue Death Eater, whose identity had not been revealed.
"Who was it, father?" Draco asked quietly.
"I don't think I should tell you that. People might ask questions if you know things others don't. I won't risk it."
"Oh."
The Location of You-Know-Who was discovered by the great Albus Dumbledore (who, you will recall, defeated the dark wizard Grindewald in 1945) when he interrogated Barty Crouch jr., the Death Eater who was discovered at Hogwarts two days ago. Crouch's goal, it has now been revealed, was to kidnap the fourteen-year-old Harry Potter so that his blood could be used to return You-Know-Who to his physical body. As this illustrious reporter revealed yesterday, Crouch was discovered by his intended victim, the Boy-Who-Lived.
After this information came to light, Dumbledore traveled alone to You-Know-Who's location to destroy him once and for all. As far as can be determined, the final battle took place last evening, and the dark wizard's spirit was utterly destroyed before ministry officials arrived at the scene at nine o'clock.
The unidentified Death Eater has been arrested and held for trial alongside Crouch jr. The ministry has assured us that the purpose of the trial is not to determine guilt (which is obvious) or sentencing (they will both receive the dementor's kiss) but to bring to light all facts surrounding the activities of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named for the last thirteen years. The Daily Prophet, and this crack investigator, will be sure to deliver all the facts as they unfold.
"You did that," Draco commented breathlessly.
"Did what?"
"You killed the Dark Lord."
"Yes."
"For me."
Lucius smiled. "Yes."
* End Chapter 4*