Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that. The Slytherin password belongs to whoever owns the X-Files, which, again, isn't me.

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 6: Meetings and Mercedes

Lucius wandered the streets of muggle London, unaware of the many odd looks he was getting. He was barely aware of the cold rain that was soaking through his robes. He felt almost completely numb; this place was so gray, and there was nothing that reminded him of anything in his life.

Lucius was so disconnected with his surroundings that he did not notice a large, sleek, dark blue vehicle pulling up next to him until he heard a woman's voice, "Mr. Malfoy, isn't it?"

Lucius glanced up, and saw, sitting behind the wheel of the expensive looking machine, the muggle woman who had taken out so many Death Eaters on September first.

"Can I give you a lift somewhere?" she asked.

Lucius glared at her. "And what makes you think I need one?" He refused to let on that he didn't know what she meant by a 'lift'.

She raised a blond eyebrow, "Well, unless your intention was to take a shower outdoors with your clothes on, I'd say that this whether was more than you bargained for. It's dry in here, if nothing else. Furthermore, you are drawing quite a lot of odd looks."

"I take it my clothes are a bit out of fashion?"

"Unless you are going to a costume party in the middle of the afternoon. Come on, get in."

"Why are you so intent upon getting me inside your vehicle?" he asked suspiciously.

She shrugged, "I just closed a big case, I have the afternoon off, and I wouldn't mind finding out more about what goes on at Hogwarts. Flare doesn't tell me much, you see."

"Flare?"

"My daughter; sixth year. She's in your son's house, if I'm not mistaken."

Well that certainly got Lucius' attention, and he really was quite wet. He opened to door of the car and slid into the leather passenger seat. "My name is Constance Lynda Hill, please call me Lynda."

"Lucius Malfoy," Lucius responded warily.

"Where to, Lucius?"

"I don't care."

Lynda shrugged, "Fine. I was planning on just taking a nice, long drive. I supposed you don't do that much, being a wizard."

Lucius narrowed his eyes as the car pulled into traffic but did not press the issue; he didn't want to talk about himself, after all. "Your daughter is in Slytherin?"

She nodded, "Umhm. She's the new quidditch captain. Nice thing your boy did, lending Bulstrode his broom; Flare told me the girl has talent."

"That is what Draco said."

After a long pause, Lynda glanced at Lucius, then asked, "My I ask why you were wandering about muggle London in the rain?"

"No."

"All right," she replied carefully, "What would you like to talk about?"

Lucius, of course, wanted to talk about Draco, but he was not about to let this strange, muggle woman know that. "Why are you so interested in talking to me?"

"You are a powerful man in your culture, and I must admit that I am curious about the world my daughter is now living in. As I said, she doesn't speak to me much."

"That certainly must be true if you are still unacquainted with our world after six years."

"Indeed; like her father, that girl."

"What exactly is it that you would like to know?"

"Hmm, where to begin..." It was an awkward exchange, but not entirely unpleasant. Lynda posed many questions, only about half of which Lucius was willing to answer. The nearly interrogation style of the questions and the fact that Lynda had mentioned 'closing a case' led Lucius to infer that she was a lawyer. Despite himself, Lucius was finding his own curiosity piqued.

That was another thing about himself he had never told anyone; he was too curious for his own good. Draco was the same way, but even more so. Lucius did not like to take Draco to Borgin and Burkes precisely because the boy always seemed to have his hands into everything, which could be very dangerous when dark magic was involved.

"Lucius? Lucius, are you all right?" Lynda asked.

"Fine, fine. I think perhaps, that it was time I returned home. Can this machine take me back to Diagon Alley?"

"We're about fifteen minutes from there; is that all right?" Lucius nodded.

Lynda seemed to realize that he was no longer interested in talking, and asked, "Mind if I turn on the stereo?" Lucius did not know what a stereo was, but he did not particularly care.

"Do as you like," he drawled tiredly.

Lynda leaned forward and fiddled with a set of knobs and buttons embedded in the front of the car. Immediately, and strange sort of music filled the vehicle. It sounded a bit like modern wizarding music, but with harsher percussions. Lucius intended to ignore it, as he largely did with wizard music, but the content of the lyrics caught his attention.

'... And my socks are never clean.

Teachers dated me

My parents hated me....' (1)

"The government allows these lyrics to be broadcast?" Lynda gave Lucius and odd look.

"Of course. Does the wizarding government regulate the music industry?"

"Of course. The Ministry cannot allow the populous to be riled up by songs about children being romantically involved with their professors," Lucius replied.

Lynda narrowed her eyes at him, "You don't support government regulation of the arts, do you?"

Lucius sighed, "Most popular wizarding music hardly qualifies as 'art'."

"And that would be because the government is restricting it."

"It's a factor, certainly, though I'm sure much of muggle music is also so much meaningless tripe because that is what sells," Lucius frowned. Surely muggles could not be more culturally advanced than wizards?

Lynda grinned, "Quite true, but at least the possibility is there. Oh, here we are; that abandoned shop front is the entrance to Diagon Alley, if I am not mistaken?"

"It only looks like an abandoned shop to you, but yes it is."

"Well, goodbye then. I expect I'll see you at King's Cross at the beginning of the Christmas holidays." Lucius had to fumble around a bit before he managed to get the car's door open; the only cars he had ever ridden in were limousines that belonged to the ministry, and the doors of those cars opened by themselves.

He climbed out of the car, too embarrassed to look back at his host. Not that he should have cared much about what she thought; she was still a muggle, after all. He did not even say goodbye before shutting the car door. Lynda drove away, and Lucius found himself once again standing alone in the rain. Lucius glanced at his silver pocket watch; at least the muggle had given him a couple of hours away from Abraxas. He sighed, walked back into the Leaky Cauldron and dissapparated.

O~O~O~O~O

It had been a very uncomfortable week for Draco. Millicent avoided him as much as possible, and he avoided her. Black had not reappeared until three days after his fight with Potter, and the school had been thick with rumors about why this was, ranging from deadly illnesses to Black running off to attempt to resurrect You-Know-Who.

Potter, also, had been missing for hours until, as rumor had it, Longbottom had gone back to their dorm to find Potter sobbing on his bed. Draco had felt a twinge of guilt when he had first heard that, though he didn't know why. He hadn't done anything wrong, and this was Potter he was talking about.

But Potter had defended Millicent to Black, which was amazing to Draco. Draco was terribly confused. And even after both Black and Potter had returned to classes, there had still been a lot of tension in the air. Potter refused to talk to, or even look at, Black, and Black kept sending Potter these, sad, hang dog looks all throughout class. Both Black and Potter largely avoided meals in the Great Hall, and they never were in the Great Hall at the same time.

Draco also found that his appetite had disappeared, and he spent most of his meals staring at his place and picking at his food. He probably wouldn't have even bothered to go to the Great Hall at all, but he felt guilty when he didn't. His father would be so disappointed in him when he found out that Draco wasn't taking care of himself properly.

And because of all that was going on, Draco was finding it hard to concentrate on his classes. He'd even started making mistakes in potions, and that scared him to death. Thank Merlin he usually caught himself before anyone else noticed. No such luck today; he had put one too many slugs in his melting mixture and it had turned purple instead of deep red. At least he hadn't exploded anything, but Snape had still noticed and asked him to stay after class. Once everybody had left (that git Weasley had sneered at Draco on the way out) Snape walked up to Draco's table and began hesitantly, "I've noticed that you have become distracted lately, Draco; is anything wrong?"

Draco stared at his lap, "No, sir. I'm sorry; I'll pay more attention from now on."

"Draco," Snape said gently (for Snape, anyway), "I am your Head of House. If something is affecting your ability to concentrate in classes, I need to know about it. I've noticed that you and Millicent have not been spending time together lately, did you two have a fight?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, "Why are you so interested in this? I mean, I made some mistakes, and I'll work on that; I don't want to make a big issue about it, all right?"

"I would like to say that this is purely altruistic," Snape replied dryly, "But when I last spoke to your father, he did ask me to keep an eye on you. With Black here, I cannot say that I blame him. Did Black do something to you?"

"Not yet," Draco scowled, "But that man is seriously unbalanced."

Snape looked at Draco shrewdly, "Is there any particular thing you witnessed to make you say that?"

"You don't think it's true?"

Snape frowned, "I know it's true, but I would like to know how you know that."

Draco did not want to tell even Snape about the argument between Potter and Black; Draco did not want to get involved by being the accusing witness on the off chance that the professors did not know about it already. Draco tried to think of another answer for Snape's question. "Black cursed Millicent; she was really upset about it."

Snape nodded, "I've spoken to Millicent about that. Did that cause some sort of rift between the two of you?"

Draco pouted; at least it was nice to have someone to listen to his side of the story. He'd written his father about it, of course, but it wasn't the same as speaking to someone face to face. "I did 'finite incantatum' for her, but then she wouldn't look at me. She said that people like me aren't friends with people like her and she just stomped off. She wouldn't listen to me!"

Snape listened to Draco with a serious expression on his face. He paused a moment before commenting, "I am the last person to advise you on relationships-"

"Relationships? You think Millicent and I were dating? Of course, we weren't; we *were* just friends. Now we're not anything, and it's all Black's fault!" Draco scowled furiously, Black really ought to be arrested again; the wizard was a menace.

Snape nodded, "There are a great many things that are Black's fault, but perhaps this particular problem is one that can be remedied."

"How?" Draco pouted.

"As I said, I am probably not the best person to help you with this. Perhaps you can speak to your father about it?"

"I was intending to; he's going to meet me in Hogsmeade."

"Good. Is there anything I can help you with; do you need extra help with potions, for example?"

Draco flushed, "No. I'll pay better attention; it's no problem."

"You also haven't been eating properly; your father asked me to specifically look out for that."

Draco looked at his hands, "I know, I'm sorry."

"Are you feeling ill?"

"No, I just don't have an appetite anymore."

"Because of Millicent?"

"Yes."

"Then you father should help you sort that out, but whether you have an appetite or not you still must eat. If you don't, you really will fall ill, and you are too thin to begin with."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Wonderful, just like the lectures I get from father."

"Well, in this instance, your father is right. Are you going to be alright now?"

"I think so; thank you, sir."

"Go up to lunch, then." Draco finished putting his school supplies into his bag while Snape erased the blackboard.

"Good afternoon, sir. Um, thank you."

Snape nodded, his attention still on the board. "You're quite welcome, Draco."

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius was once again standing before his full-length mirror obsessively examining every aspect of his appearance. Today he was to meet Draco in Hogsmeade, and as excited as he was about it, he was terrified that Draco would see that Lucius was falling apart. His son simply didn't deserve to have to deal with that after all that Lucius had already put him through.

Finally, still unsatisfied, Lucius had to leave to avoid being late. He apparated directly next to the Three Broomsticks, startling the Weasley girl. He sneered at her as he entered the tavern; it felt rather good not be on the receiving end of fear for a change. Lucius took his usual, shadowed booth in the corner. He ordered a glass of red wine from Madame Rosmerta and waited for his son.

He could not quench the fear that Draco would not arrive hurt and ill like he had the last time they had met here. Lucius glanced around, noticing a group of happy third-years who were introducing their muggle-born friend to butterbeer.

c~c~c~c~c

"What'th thith, Da- father?"

"This is butterbeer. Your tutor has told me that you have been doing a fine job on your reading this week, and I think you deserve a little reward."

The five-year-old smiled at him and took a sip of the golden liquid. "Mmm! Thank you, father."

Lucius handed him a napkin, "You have foam on your lip, dragon."

Draco grinned shyly and wiped his face, "Thorry, father."

c~c~c~c~c

"Sorry I'm late, father." Lucius glanced up, mortified that he had not noticed Draco enter.

"Quite all right, son." Lucius stood and held his arms slightly open; Draco needed no more encouragement. In one quick step and his precious was back in his arms and hugging him tightly; it was paradise. Lucius kissed the top of Draco's blond head before pulling back; as wonderful as it was to hold his darling son, it would not due to have everyone in the pub wondering why they were hanging onto each other.

"Have a seat, Draco." They sat across from each other, but Lucius could tell that Draco still needed the comfort of being touched. After Madame Rosmerta brought Draco a butterbeer, Lucius extended his hand, and Draco took it, smiling sadly. "Are you well?"

"Fine," Draco lied, "A bit tired and... lonely, I guess."

"Still fighting with that Bulstrode girl?"

"Not fighting, just... avoiding." He sounded so sad, his poor dragon.

"Is it mutual?"

Draco nodded, pouting morosely. "I don't know what to say to her, father. She refuses to believe me. It's her parents; they messed her up."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "How so?"

"They think that because she's not as pretty as her sister she's a bad person. And now she doesn't believe me when I tell her that I like her."

Lucius knew very well what that felt like. He sometimes had trouble believing that Draco loved him, largely because of what Abraxas had done to him. Lucius considered his next words very carefully, "I know that it can be difficult when people don't believe you, and Millicent will likely be very hard to convince, but this is no reflection on you. Millicent is insecure about herself, and she has trouble seeing that she is worthy of someone like you. If you truly want her as a friend, do not let her cut herself off from you. Persist, show patience, and once you have convinced her she will likely be the most loyal friend you will ever have."

Draco looked at him with hopeful eyes, "You think I can do that?"

Lucius genuinely smiled for the first time in weeks. "I am sure of it. You have, after all, a friend in Severus; he has many of the same problems."

"He does? Did his parents treat him badly as well?"

Lucius nodded sadly; Severus, like Lucius, would never have turned to Voldemort if not for his father's abuse, though in Severus' case, it was more mental and verbal, rather than physical or sexual. Lucius watched, concerned, as Draco suddenly glanced away, looking very nervous. "What's the matter?"

"Um, I was just thinking... you don't have to answer this, but... um, do you sometimes feel like that?"

"Like what?" Lucius asked cautiously, though he was reasonably certain what Draco was asking.

"Like... like you have trouble believing me when..." Draco looked mortified; Lucius wondered what he had done to make Draco so afraid of speaking about this.

"To tell you the truth, when you were born, I was sure I did not deserve you, and sometimes those feelings do return, but it is not your fault. That last part is very important, remember it."

Draco looked so sad, "I'm sorry, father."

Lucius looked at him sternly, "I told you that it isn't your fault."

"I know, but I'm sorry that it happened."

"In that case, thank you, but it very important that you remember that you are not to blame, for me, Severus, or Millicent. You understand?"

Draco nodded solemnly. "Are you all right, father?"

Lucius was prepared for that. "Fine, Draco, why do you ask?"

"You've lost weight."

"So have you."

Draco narrowed his eyes, "First of all, not as much as you. Secondly, that's beside the point. And don't tell me it's not my business."

"I would never tell you that my health is none of your business, but rest assured that I am dealing with it."

"Then why have you lost weight?"

Lucius was disgusted with himself; he should not be worrying Draco over this. He should have canceled the meeting, but he had missed his son so much... "I was not feeling well for a time, but I am better now-"

Draco withdrew his hand, and to Lucius, it was more painful than a slap across the face. "I knew it! You lied to me."

"Keep your voice down, Draco."

"You lied to me," Draco repeated, softly.

Oh, precious, please forgive me, Lucius mourned; the guilt was killing him, though he knew he'd only done it to protect his son. "I did not lie to you; I would never do that. I deliberately avoided speaking to you about it because I did not want to worry you."

"I am not a child, father; I can deal with it."

"Whether you want to believe it or not, you are still a child-"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Lucius raised a silencing hand, "You are very mature for your age in some things, but you are still a child. More specifically, you are my child, and it is still my decision what I chose to burden you with; I did not want to burden you with this."

Draco frowned furiously, "I'm 'burdened' with it whether you want me to be or not, but when you refuse to tell me what's going on then there's nothing I can do about it, for you or for me."

"You're only burdened with it if it you find out about it or if it has long-lasting effects. I will never intentionally conceal and issue that large from you, but I assure that I am handling this one. Admittedly, I didn't handle it as effectively as I would have liked, but-"

"I specifically asked you how you were doing, and you intentionally mislead me," Draco interrupted quietly, "How can I trust you after that?"

Lucius' heart broke. Draco had hit on the one argument that Lucius had no good answer for, and the consequences could be disastrous. "I am sorry, I only wanted to protect you."

Draco studied his hands for a long moment while he considered this. "Do you promise that you won't do it again?"

Lucius sighed sadly; please, precious, don't hate me for this, "I am sorry, my dragon, but I cannot."

"Don't you trust me?"

"I do, my precious, but there are other factors to consider."

"What factors?"

"I... there are some things that I simply cannot talk about to anyone."

Draco looked at Lucius seriously. Lucius looked away self-consciously; it felt like Draco could see right into him. "This is because of your father as well, isn't it?"

"Very astute, Draco; it is, and as such, you need to remember that it is no reflection on you. This is my problem, and-"

"I want to help, father. It makes me sad to see you so unhappy."

Lucius glanced up, "I love you, my dragon, but if you truly wish to help, you need to take care of yourself. Your well-being is the most important thing to me."

Draco stared at his hands, folded in his lap. "Okay," he finally conceded.

"Thank you, Draco, and I am truly sorry." There was a long, awkward silence. "So what would you like for Yule?"

* End Chapter 6 *

(1) "Don't Let Me Get Me" by Pink – I would have replaced this with a song more appropriate to the period (1995), but it is too germane to the plot, and I could not find an acceptable substitute.