Old Author's Note (Abridged): For those of you who asked: yes, Voldemort did kill Abraxas. Also, I'm warning all Sirius fans reading this that he goes of the deep end a bit in this chapter, but he and Harry will reconcile eventually.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 5: Broken

Was that really him? Lucius stared at his reflection, shocked by what he saw. His long, pale hair was a matted mess, his silver eyes puffy and bloodshot. Lucius unbuttoned his dressing gown with shaking fingers and let it fall to the floor. He ran his fingers down his bare side, appalled that his smooth, defined abdominal muscles had disappeared, leaving his ribs and hip bones exposed under a thin layer of nearly transparent skin. Lucius hung his head, overwhelmed with guilt; he had set such a bad example for his son.

Suddenly dizzy, Lucius staggered over to the edge of the tub and sat heavily. He stopped to catch his breath, dismayed to realize that he had left the wizard wireless in his bedroom. He started to call for Dibby, but realized how terribly weak it was to depend on that silly device even in broad daylight. He needed to learn how to live without it; if he could not manage to take a simple bath by himself, how was he going to manage to make it to Hogsmeade, let alone Diagon alley when it came time to buy Draco's Yule gifts?

Lucius started the taps, grateful for the sound of running water. He slid into the tub, but lacked the energy to lift a hand and grab the soap. He splashed the water ineffectually, infinitely frustrated that even the simplest tasks were beyond him now. He felt so helpless, pathetic, disgusting.

He tried to drag his fingers through his hair, but they got caught in the greasy tangles; he might even have to cut much of it off. Lucius soaked for a long time; he was simply too exhausted to do anything else. He dunked his head a few times, trying to wash his hair as best he could, but he could still feel the grime clinging to him.

As humiliating as it was, he decided that he had to call for Dibby to deal with his hair; Draco was suspicious as it was, and he would definitely start to wonder what was going on if Lucius showed up in Hogsmeade with short hair.

"Dibby!"

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir?"

"Fix my hair."

"Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to fix sir's hair in the bathtub or in the bedroom, Master Lucius sir?" Lucius didn't know how to answer the question; he simply couldn't organize his thoughts. This was a simple question, why couldn't he handle it?

"Figure it out," he snarled to the feeble elf.

"Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to wash sir's hair in the bathtub then brush sir's hair in the bedroom, Master Lucius sir?"

"Fine," Lucius sighed. He didn't even pay attention to the question; he didn't have the energy. Lucius relaxed against the side of the tub while Dibby did whatever it was that she was supposed to be doing.

Lucius had nearly dozed off when her squeaky, irritating voice piped, "Dibby is done washing Master Lucius sir's hair. Is Master Lucius sir wanting to be going into sir's bedroom, Master Lucius sir?"

"Yes," Lucius croaked. He heaved himself out of the tub, resting for a moment on the edge. The delay was long enough to set him shivering, and he was badly startled when he felt a towel drape itself over his shoulders. He whipped his head around and glared furiously at the cowering house-elf.

"Don't touch me, you disgusting creature," he hissed hatefully. The horrid thing's bulbous eyes watered up and it began wailing and pounding its head against the bathroom floor.

"Dibby is mostest sorry, Master Lucius sir. Dibby is bad, bad house elf-"

"Enough!" Lucius shouted.

The elf instantly froze, terrified. Lucius left her there as he reached for another towel that had not been contaminated by the house elf's filth, but he was overcome with such dizziness that he had to grab the towel rack to avoid falling. Dibby moved as if to help him, but Lucius recoiled and screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Lucius did not know if he could make it back to his bed without help, but he could not stand to have Dibby touch him. Of course, she would have to touch him in order to fix his hair; what to do? He finally snarled, "Go take a bath, you vile thing, and change into a clean pillow case. I *won't* have you touching me like that."

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir. " And she popped away. Lucius used the opportunity to crawl back to his bed, after struggling into his dressing gown. The only way he could make it from the floor into the bed was to pull himself up using one of the black oak posts. He was disgusted with himself; how had he managed to let himself get into this condition?

Lucius curled up on his side, finally noticing that he had forgotten to dry off before dressing, and he was shivering.

c~c~c~c~c

"You pathetic, little whore! Only 94% in transfiguration!"

"But McGonagall-"

"Don't you talk back to me, you dog! You're good for nothing! You're a dog, and like a dog you belong outside! You're not fit to live in this house!" Abraxas then dragged Lucius to the front doors by his hair.

Lucius felt humiliated, but also warily relived. Getting sent outside was nothing compared many of Abraxas ' other punishments; Lucius was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The doors swung magically open, and Lucius saw that night had fallen, and it was raining. Abraxas shoved Lucius out into the rain with such force that Lucius fell, hitting his head on the top of the granite steps. He ignored the pain, blinking rain from his eyes. He caught a glance of Dibby inside the house, glancing, terrified, at him as she polished a silver vase.

"You're a dog!" Abraxas yelled, casting a curse Lucius did not recognize. Lucius gasped as the cold rain suddenly assaulted his entire body; Abraxas had made Lucius' clothes disappear.

"Dogs don't deserve clothes," Abraxas hissed poisonously, "You will be allowed back inside when *I* decide. And you will *earn* the privilege of clothes when you please me, you slut. Now get out of my sight!"

Lucius tried to stand, but Abraxas hit him with a crucio. Lucius focused on quelling his screams of pain; it would not do to enrage Abraxas further by showing weakness. When the curse was lifted, Abraxas snarled, "Dogs don't walk like men, you pathetic, little mongrel. Now get out of here, crawling like the slug you are."

Lucius rolled over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Slowly, with shaking arms and legs, he crawled down the steps. Abraxas sneered at him then slammed the door shut. Lucius heard him shout, "What are you looking at you disgusting creature! Crucio!"

Lucius kept crawling across the slick grass to the sound of Dibby's screams. He headed towards the woods. There were caves there where he could get out of the rain; he was so cold...

c~c~c~c~c

"Master! Master Lucius sir! Master-"

"What!" Lucius snarled.

"Is Master Lucius sir being all right, sir?"

"What do you think, you vile thing?"

"Dibby is mostest sorry, Master Lucius sir. Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to fix Master's hair?" Lucius took a deep breath; when had he started to speak like Abraxas? Lucius glanced at Dibby; she was indeed clean, as was the pillowcase she was wearing.

Still shivering, Lucius rolled onto his stomach and replied, "Fix it, and don't you dare hurt me."

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir." Strange, she almost sounded... happy. "Is Master Lucius sir wanting Dibby to dry Master's hair, sir?"

Lucius frowned into the pillow; this was so humiliating. "And the rest of me," he muttered.

"Yeses, Master Lucius sir." With a snap of her fingers, Lucius was dry. He felt a light tugging as Dibby brushed out his long hair, but she wasn't hurting him. Lucius let himself doze off. Dibby couldn't hurt him; she didn't have the power to.

O~O~O~O~O

c~c~c~c~c

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanh!"

"Here is your son, Mr. Malfoy. He's a bit small, but very healthy."

Lucius held his breath as the Mediwitch placed his son in his arms. Lucius could not believe that he had created such a beautiful, perfect child as this. But... "Is it normal for him to be screaming like that?"

The Mediwitch smiled, "That's just his way of communicating with you. He has a very healthy set of lungs." If no one had been watching, Lucius would have cried. His baby was perfect! But what to name him?

Lucius glanced at Narcissa, who was primping her sweat-dampened hair. "What do you think his name should be?" Lucius asked, rocking their crying baby.

"I don't care. I need a mirror..." Narcissa didn't even glance at him. Was the woman mad? How could she not be interested in her perfect son? Lucius kept rocking the baby, trying to think of a name. His little boy was still screaming.

Lucius smiled even wider; he certainly was a little spitfire, wasn't he? And there was the answer; Lucius had a weakness for dragons, and he adored the little boy in his arms. Unexpectedly, the mediwitch came bustling in, holding a quill and a piece of parchment.

"The birth certificate is all filled out, Mr. Malfoy, we just need to know his name."

"Draco," Lucius answered, "Draco Magni Malfoy."

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius smiled, reverently turning the pages of one of the many baby albums he had made of Draco. Looking back, it had been rather silly for him to take so many photographs of Draco as a newborn (all he really did was lie on his back, sleeping, crying, and occasionally sucking on his tiny, perfect, little thumb), but Lucius had not been able to help himself.

Lucius closed the album and returned it to its place on the shelf. For days Lucius had been trying to get himself into some semblance of his usual physical condition. After Dibby had forced the eighth bowl of soup on him, Lucius had begun to truly sympathize with what he had put Draco through last spring.

Unlike Draco, however, Lucius had also needed to force himself to exercise as much as he could stand. Today was the first day he had managed to walk all the way to the library without having to stop, and he had rewarded himself by looking through Draco's baby pictures.

But he had finished the album, and he knew that if he opened another he would end up spending all day looking through them. Not quite ready for the trek back to his bedchambers, Lucius sat in an overstuffed chair and gazed out the window. It was overcast, but not raining.

Lucius watched the ravens and crows flying about, more visible now that the trees were bare. Lucius didn't notice that he had dozed off until Dibby popped in, asking him what he wanted for lunch. Lucius told her that he didn't care as long as it wasn't soup. She looked at him strangely when he grinned for no apparent reason, then popped down to the kitchens. Lucius wondered what Draco was doing right now.

O~O~O~O~O

"Millicent, wait!" Draco panted as he chased Millicent towards the dungeons; she was in much better shape than he was.

"Leave me alone!" Millicent sobbed as she ran.

"No!" Draco was not going to leave her alone like this. Black, the bastard, had claimed Millicent as his most recent victim in his campaign of 'pranks' against certain Slytherin and Hufflepuff students. He had even made Cho Chang completely bald during dinner, because (according to rumor) she had spurned Potter last year when he had had a crush on her.

But what he had done to Millicent was unconscionable. He had had the Weasley twins design a spice that had caused Millicent's face to turn green and sprout warts in front of the entire school. Millicent, already insecure about her looks, had run out of the Great Hall, sobbing. Naturally, Draco had run after her.

When she reached the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, she was crying so hard that she could not say the password adequately. Finally, Draco managed to catch her. "Are... you... all... right?" he panted.

Millicent turned towards the wall, covering her face with her large hands. "Okay, that... was a stupid question... At least turn around so I can do a 'finite incantatum'."

Millicent only shook her head. Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn manner, "Well why the hell not? You want the curse over, don't you? And I doubt you can say the counter curse properly if you can't manage the password."

Millicent spun around, her hand in fists, "You bas-"

"Finite Incantatum!" Draco shouted, and Millicent's face went back to the way it had been. Millicent stopped cold and felt her face. But she wasn't as grateful to Draco as he thought she would be. She didn't hit him, but she did turn back around, burying her face in her hands.

"Well, what's the matter now? You look fine; I fixed it. I'll complain to my father, he'll get Black fired, we'll do something horrid to get back the Gryffindors, and everything will be fine." But Millicent still refused to look at him. "What? Are you mad because I tricked you? I was only trying to help."

"Just go away and leave me alone," Millicent sniffed.

"No. Not until you tell me why you won't look at me."

"Because I don't want you looking at me, all right!"

Draco frowned, "But why? All the curse marks are gone."

"Because I am ugly, and people like you don't hang out with people like me, so just stop pretending and LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE! Chinese fireball!" Millicent charged through the portrait hole, leaving Draco gaping after her.

"Well! If you can't believe me when I say you are my friend, then you can just stay all alone then! To Hell with you!" Draco then stormed back to the Great Hall, sitting back down roughly, pointedly ignoring the stares he was getting from most of the student body. Draco tried to return to his lunch, but he found that he didn't have an appetite anymore.

He pushed his plate away and headed back down towards the dungeons to grab his books then find somewhere he could write a letter to his father without anyone interrupting him. He finally settled on an empty classroom near the DADA room that wasn't too dusty. He pulled out parchment and a quill, but he couldn't think of what to say. He ended up staring at a blank piece of parchment for half an hour. He looked up when he heard voices in the hallway.

"Oh, come on, Harry, it was only a joke," Black chuckled.

Draco seethed, that bastard! "Sirius, it wasn't funny; she was sobbing."

What? Potter was defending Millicent to his godfather? Draco carefully got to his feet and crept to the door. Through the keyhole, he could see Potter and Black facing each other. Black shrugged, "Come on, Harry, it was all in good fun. And she's a Slytherin, after all."

Potter put his hands on his hips, "She's didn't see it that way; didn't you notice, she was *sobbing*. And as for the fact that she's a Slytherin, so is Blaise. And Sally-Anne, Margaret, and Flare for that matter; you wouldn't do that to any of them, would you?"

Black folded his arms in a huff, "You told me yourself that Bulstrode attacked Hermione in your second year."

"That was three years ago, Sirius, during dueling club. But this isn't all about Millicent Bulstrode, this is about all the people you have been pulling pranks on."

"What do you mean?"

Potter ran a hand through his abominable hair, "What you did to Ernie was justified, but now you're picking on people who've barely done anything. I mean, it wasn't Cho's fault that I liked her and she was going out with Cedric."

Black shrugged, "It was only a joke."

Potter sighed, "You may see it that way, but I'm pretty sure Cho didn't, and I *know* Millicent didn't."

"But she deserved it."

"Are you sure about that? You acted on information I told you, about what happened to Hermione, *three years ago*; you don't know what's changed since then."

"But I trust you Harry, if you say it happened, then it happened."

Potter sighed again, "You aren't hearing me, Sirius. *Stop* the practical jokes. It's mean."

Black shook his head, "It's not mean; it's fun. Come on, Harry, we can rule the school, be the new Marauders!"

Draco was baffled by what Potter said next. "I don't want to rule the school, Sirius. I just want to be with my friends, and get through my classes, and be a normal kid."

Black grinned, "What are you talking about? Of course you want to be the coolest boy in school; it will be just like the old days."

Potter looked confused, "What old days?"

"Why the old days of the Marauders, of course!"

"But... Sirius, those aren't my 'old days'. I wasn't even alive then."

"But you're a Marauder. You're Prongs jr.; James dubbed you himself when you were a baby."

"I was a baby! I don't remember that, and I don't think that means I have to pull pranks on people when I don't want to, and I don't have to pretend that I think it's funny when you do it, 'cause it's not."

"Listen, James-"

"Harry."

"What?"

Potter looked at Black, concerned, "You called me James. My name is Harry."

"I know that, it was just a slip of the tongue. You look like him, is all."

"I know I look like him, but I'm not him, Sirius. I don't like pranks, and I don't think that you should be harassing students like that."

"It's not harassment! It's just fun."

"It's not fun when a student runs off crying, Sirius. Maybe you don't know that because no one ever made you feel that way, but it *hurts* to be picked on like that. And even aside from all that, you could get into a lot of trouble."

Black just grinned, "Don't worry, Harry; Dumbledore and I have an understanding. He knows it's just all in good fun."

Potter drew his eyebrows together, "He told you that?"

Black chuckled, "He didn't have to. It's just like it was, James."

"Harry," Potter said firmly. "I'm Harry, not James, and no matter how much you want me to be like him, I'm simply not. I'm a seeker, not a chaser; I don't have the best grades in school; I don't want to be really popular; and I don't think that what you are doing is 'fun'."

Black frowned dangerously, "It's those muggles; they did this to you. If it weren't for them, you'd be just like we planned, Prongs and I..."

"Like you planned? Aren't I allowed to make my own decisions?"

"Well, of course you are, but if you hadn't been left with those muggles, you'd see how much fun this is."

"So just because I don't agree with you it means there's something wrong with me?"

Black spoke softly, as if to a small, sick child, "It's not you fault, Harry; it was the muggles-"

"I can't believe you!" Potter shouted, "You... you git!"

Draco almost chuckled; brilliant comeback, Potter. "Maybe I *would* think differently if I grew up with my parents, but that would only be because I never knew what it was like to be picked on. You know what you are? You're a bully; just like Dudley, and Malfoy, and Snape!"

Potter shouldn't have said that; he should have remembered that Black had spent twelve years in Azkaban, and no one emerges from that unscathed. Before Potter could react, Black's pale eyes flickered in a demented manner, and he slapped Potter across the face. It wasn't particularly hard (he didn't even knock Potter's glasses off), but it was enough to leave Potter's cheek pink and flood his wide eyes with tears.

Black's jaw dropped open and he stumbled back as if he had been the one who was hit. "Oh, Merlin, what have I done? Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry; did I hurt you? Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry. Oh, Harry..."

Potter fled; he ran down the hall so swiftly that Black couldn't have caught him if he wanted to. Black watched him go forlornly, but did not follow. He wrapped his arms around his middle and started rocking back and fourth, moaning, "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...Lily, James, oh, Merlin... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Draco held his breath. Black was clearly unbalanced; if he had hit Potter, there was no telling what he would do to Draco if he found him spying on him. After a time, Black stumbled away, and Draco could relax a bit. There were ten minutes before class (DADA, incidentally), so Draco hurried to write down everything he had seen in the letter to his father. He then tossed his supplies into his bag and cautiously made his way to the classroom.

Neither Black nor Potter (or Millicent, for that matter) ever came to class, and after twenty minutes of waiting, a frantic Granger fetched McGonagall. The overbearing witch gave them a homework assignment and sent them off to the library. Draco briefly considered staying behind to tell her what had happened, but the look on her face told him that he would likely not be believed, and have points taken to boot.

He decided to go to the library with everyone else, find a secluded corner, and finish his letter. He'd feel better after he had told his father about everything, especially Millicent. The 21st seemed so far away; Draco really needed to see his father.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco's letter strengthened Lucius' resolve to get better. Black was obviously insane. Lucius had told Draco to stay out of his way as much as possible, and contact Lucius immediately should something else happen. He even considered going to Dumbledore, but the consequences should he not be believed would likely fall on Draco, and Lucius could not allow that. It was therefore essential that Lucius stay well enough to come to Draco's aid if needs be.

And that was why Lucius had decided to go to Diagon Alley today. He needed to know if he could manage getting to Hogsmeade next week; he could not simply leave Draco waiting for him at the Three Broomsticks. Lucius also intended to use the trip as an opportunity to buy some sweets for Draco, and possibly find something that would help him keep his mind off Abraxas.

Lucius carefully examined his entire appearance in the full-length mirror. If he showed up in Diagon Alley looking ill it might make the papers; after word had gotten out about the divorce, the private life of the Malfoys had become even more newsworthy than before, and 'Witch Weekly' owled every week, without fail, requesting an interview.

Satisfied with his appearance (the mirror had informed him that it was, "Happy to see you looking so well, sir."), Lucius walked to the ballroom, cane firmly in hand, to apparate to Diagon Alley. The dizziness upon appearing next to the candy shop was so severe that he was forced to lean on his cane to avoid falling over, but at least he had managed to not splinch himself.

He bought sweets for Draco, and some books for the both of them. By the time he came out of Flourish and Blotts it was raining heavily. Lucius didn't know what to do next; many people, particularly the shopkeepers, had taken notice of him and were asking the most irritating, asinine questions, but Lucius did not particularly feel like returning to the Manor either.

He was feeling the lack of Abraxas distinctly now that he was away from the Manor, and he was in no hurry to return. What to do then? Lucius ended up wandering towards the Leaky Cauldron, but the crowd was even more invasive there. Tom's customers always seemed to be interested in whoever entered the place. There was only one escape route: muggle London. Usually Lucius would have preferred to cut his foot off before entering the muggle world, but right now all Lucius wanted was to be someplace... anonymous.

* End Chapter 5*