Disclaimer: If it looks like it belongs to JK Rowlings, it probably does.
DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 7
Congrats from Mum and Dad
"Draco, son," Lucius Malfoy held out his hand to his son. "Congratulations."
"You were wonderful, dear," said Narcissa. "You made that Potter boy look like a complete fool. After he did all that silly flying around--Everyone wondered if he did it just for show—achio egg, indeed." She kissed him coolly on the cheek.
"Thank you, Father. Mother."
"Let's walk," said Lucious. "There's something we must discuss." They walked down toward the lake where the crowd was sparser. Draco was worried. This sort of attitude usually boded ill in the Malfoy household. But maybe—
"Is it about the Dark Lord?" Draco asked softly. "May I—"his voice was choked with excitement. "May I take the Dark Mark?"
"No. Said Lucious. The Dark Lord's business has nothing to do with you. All you need to do is stay out of the way.
"I want to help—"
"We know you do, Sweetheart, but you're much too young," said Narcissa. "Listen to your father. He knows best."
Draco cringed. He hated when she talked like that. It reminded him of –Pansy—Could I rub your feet, Draco? Except that his mother was prettier than Pansy.
"You can help," his father said. "You need to lose this Tournament."
"What!"
"You heard me."
"Why?"
"You don't question orders of the Dark Lord."
"Well, you're not the Dark Lord," spat Draco. He turned on his heel and headed back to Slytherin House, his robes billowing out behind him. Any minute he expected something to hit him in the back—anything from jelly legs to crucio—but nothing came.
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