Old Author's Note (Abridged): This chapter contains some things that were requested by reviewers (a bit if Lucius' school days, flashbacks to Crouch jr.); just my way of thanking you for sticking with me. This chapter also contains some song lyrics; I believe they added some character to certain scenes. If you don't like them, skip them.

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

My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake

-Catspook

Chapter 9: Speak and I'll Listen

"...Just remember 'till you're home again, you belong to me...

I'll be so alone without you, maybe you'll be lonesome too..."(1)

For the next day and a half, Lucius watched anxiously as Draco drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. At first, Lucius and Madam Pomfrey tried to coax Draco to eat, but he was having a bad reaction to the skelegrow, and could not keep anything down. After a few tries, Madam Pomfrey ordered them not to try any more, afraid that the heaving could damage Draco's new ribs.

"I'd like to spend a day or two.

I can't stay that long.

No, I've got to meet expenses…"(2)

The recorb played constantly during that time, usually a pleasant but indistinct background noise, but sometimes, when Draco was deeply asleep, Lucius would listen to the lyrics. Most were trite or confusing (What, by Merlin, was a yellow submarine, anyway?), but Lucius found some of the songs to be interesting, or even moving.

"Don't let me get me,

I'm my own worst enemy..."(3)

He again heard the song that he had spoken to Lynda about, and once he got over how brazen the lyrics were, he found himself responding powerfully to them; he spent much of his life feeling exactly that kind of self loathing. Wizarding music was always happy, fake. The Ministry put an enormous amount of effort into trying to convince the public that there was no evil in their little society, that 'normal' wizards were never plagued by disturbing, depressing, or questioning thoughts. Lucius, as much as he hated to admit it, was starting to grudgingly admire some of the muggle artists for their honesty.

"On my own,

Pretending he's beside me

All alone...."(4)

"Lucius?"

"Get out of here," Lucius growled. He never took his eyes off Draco's face.

But Dumbledore did not leave. "Ah, I was wondering where Blaise's recorb had gotten to. It's been a quiet couple of days without it."

"I'm surprised you would sully yourself with visiting the Slytherin dungeons to hear it."

There was a very uncomfortable pause. Finally, "I have not objections to visiting the dungeons, though Severus usually prefers that I don't. I believe he thinks I make the children nervous. In any case, I was referring to the fact that Mr. Valini usually entertains us at meals with his music."

"Of course."

There was another pause, less... strained than the last. "I fear I owe you a very serious apology, Lucius."

"Save it."

"No, this needs to be said. I have come to realize that I, the entire school, really, has treated the Slytherins most unfairly for a very long time."

Lucius turned and looked at him; what was the old codger trying to pull? "This is no trick, Lucius. I am truly sorry. I see now that we lost a great many children to the dark because of a house label."

So that's what this was all about. "I am not speaking to you about Voldemort, Dumbledore."

"You love your son; that much is very clear to me now. You must have had a very pressing reason to join the Death Eaters, to commit such crimes-"

"Don't speak to me of crime, old man; you no nothing of it."

Dumbledore bristled for the first time since Draco was cursed. Lucius hoped, for his son's sake, that he had not gone too far. But Dumbledore sighed and deflated as suddenly as he had mantled. "Tell me how I can know of it, Lucius. I don't want to loose any more like you."

Lucius did not know what possessed him. It was probably a mixture of physical fatigue and emotional exhaustion that dulled his wits, but he would later curse himself for letting it slip. "Why don't you ask your transfiguration professor why I did not complete the summer work for my second year?" he hissed.

c~c~c~c~c

"Mister Malfoy, why don't you have your summer work?"

Lucius, barely twelve, did not know what possessed him. A faint hope that someone would help him, he later supposed, but he gave the stupidest reply he could have under the circumstances. "Well, I'm quite sorry, Professor," he began in a drawl, then ended in an angry hiss, "But I found it impossible to do my work locked in a damp dungeon, away from my books all summer. Perhaps I should have asked my father to bring them down when he came down to rape me."

But he never could have anticipated her reaction. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Ten points from Slytherin for the late work, Mr. Malfoy, twenty more for the lie, and two weeks detention."

He stared at her in shock. Detention? Points? He had just told her that his father *raped* him, and she took points? What was wrong with the woman? Abraxas was going to be so angry when he found out...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius still shuddered thinking of Abraxas ' punishment for his little outburst. Lucius had never told anyone about Abraxas again, until Lestrange had found him four years later, bloody and stranded in Knockturn Alley. Lestrange had guessed most of it anyway, and promised that the Dark Lord could help, and help he did. Lucius was not ashamed of doing what he had to in order to survive, but he still shuddered to think what Riddle had allowed to happen to Draco.

And if Dumbledore actually spoke to McGonagall, he might figure it all out... To hell with it, Lucius so tired of running from Abraxas. Dumbledore hadn't revealed what had happened to Draco, and he had even less to gain from exposing Abraxas ' old crimes. At least, Lucius hoped that was the case.

Lucius did not see Dumbledore at all before he and Draco returned to the Manor. Although all of Draco's bones had been successfully grown back, Madam Pomfrey predicted that Draco would need another two weeks to recover from the incident. He needed deep, restful sleep, and the skelegrow had caused some damage to his stomach. Madam Pomfrey had also pulled Lucius aside and suggested that Draco should gain a bit of weight before he returned to school. Lucius had smugly told Draco of this, who had folded his arms huffily and pouted. "It's my body," he had replied, "I should be able to do as I like with it."

"But you are also my son," Lucius had countered, "And I worry about you. But let us return home first, before we have this conversation. It will likely be a long one."

"I guess." Draco still pouted.

Lucius hid his smile; he knew Draco would not appreciate his amusement, but it was so good to see Draco being his old, petulant self, rather than helpless and listless as he had been these past few days. Draco was still too weak to walk the distance from the hospital wing to the carriage outside, so Lucius carefully lifted him in his arms. Lucius timed it so that most students would be in classes; he knew Draco would be embarrassed if any of his classmates saw him being carried though the halls. Leaving Valini's recorb on the bedstand, Lucius slowly made his way though the deserted hallways, Draco's thin arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

The carriage ride was smoother than Lucius remembered it; he had always suspected that Dumbledore could have made it more pleasant if he really cared to. They arrived at the Hogsmeade floo station quickly, and soon they were home. Dibby was waiting to help transport Draco's things to his bedroom. Draco looked at Lucius oddly when he nodded to Dibby, instead of snarling at her as he usually did. He and Dibby had developed a sort of understanding in the days since Lucius' breakdown, and Lucius could not bring himself to hate her with his previous ferocity. Better to save the hate for those who truly could have done something and did not, like Dumbledore.

Draco was already nodding off when they reached his bedroom, so Lucius tucked him in for a long nap. Draco did not question it when Lucius placed the panther in his arms, he just curled up against the warm fur. Lucius kissed Draco on the temple, undeniably glad, despite the circumstances, to have his son back at home.

Draco was not happy when Lucius woke him that evening. The idea of eating nauseated him, and he felt that if he had to choke down one more slimy potion, he was going to scream. But it was hard to deny his father when he looked so concerned for him. Draco could plainly see that Lucius had been ill for some time; he had improved slightly since their last meeting, but it was very disturbing to see his father, who was usually so strong, breaking under the weight of... whatever it was that Draco's grandfather had done to him.

"Madam Pomfrey thinks that this might help settle your stomach." Lucius handed him a goblet full of some disgusting, gray substance, but Draco drank it obediently; he would have done anything to stop the horrible nausea. The potion was surprisingly tasteless, and Draco handed the empty goblet back in no time. "Let's give it a few minutes to work, hm?" Lucius doted, stoking Draco's hair. Draco could see that Lucius was glad to have him home.

"You really missed me, didn't you?" Draco asked.

Lucius smiled, "Of course I did; I told you I would."

"Is that why you got so ill? Because I wasn't here?"

Lucius froze. "I told you that none of that was your fault. You need to understand that; you are *not* responsible for any difficulties I might be having."

Draco used a line his father had used on him countless times. "But I love you. How can I not worry about you? And I know that you have been keeping things from me to keep me from worrying, but I think that's making it worse. Why won't you tell me what is wrong? Do you really think that I won't understand?"

His father looked so sad then that Draco couldn't help but feel guilty. "I think you would understand; more than you should ever have had to. But I really cannot talk about this."

"Why not?"

"I... we should talk about this later, when you are feeling better-"

"That is crap. Father, I am not a child; you said yourself that I would understand. I know I can help, please let me."

"Don't use words like that, Draco-"

"You're avoiding the subject again," Draco interrupted crossly; why wouldn't his father just tell him? "Just tell me."

"No," his father said sternly, "That is my final word on the subject. I will not, *cannot*, talk about this."

"But-"

"No, Draco. *Let it drop*."

Draco could hear not only anger, but fear in Lucius' tone. It scared Draco to hear his father's fear; his father never seemed afraid of anything. So Draco did not press Lucius anymore. Instead, Draco, feeling very uncomfortable, pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them.

"Are you cold?" Draco shook his head, but Lucius took Draco in his arms anyway, rubbing his biceps to generate heat. "You must be cold. You need to tell me if you are; you could get sick if you don't keep warm enough."

"Stupid Weasley," Draco muttered. He had thought that he'd be over the whole invalid thing for a while. Draco hated being sick. He rather enjoyed the sympathy he got, but feeling genuinely ill was not worth it. And it was making his father worry, who obviously already had enough problems.

Lucius smiled. "Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Will you eat a little for me then? It's been days."

"All right. But no soup!"

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius did not like the idea of leaving Draco to sleep alone, but the boy could not find out about Lucius' nightmares either. Lucius was utterly exhausted; he could not spend another night awake, by his son's side. His only option, then, was to return to his own bed to sleep. He was forced to explain this to Draco, to ensure that the boy would not wake up during the night, frightened to find himself alone. "Precious, do you think you could sleep alone tonight?"

"I... I guess, if you're that tired. Do you sleep better alone?" Lucius hated himself; Draco was so trusting of him.

Lucius forced a smile. "I'm afraid so. After so many years, I've grown used to it, you see. But if you really want me to stay..."

Draco smiled, but said seriously, "No, Father. I can see how tired you are. I can do it."

Lucius nodded, ashamed. He did not deserve this trust. "I'll leave Dibby with you; tell her to wake me if you need me. I mean it, you're more important-"

Draco placed his finger over Lucius' mouth, looking sad. "Don't start that again, father. You need to be taken care of too."

No, no I don't. I'm so sorry I'm not strong enough... "I'll stay here until you fall asleep," Lucius smiled, sitting next to Draco on the bed, pulling the boy into his lap.

"Okay," Draco agreed sleepily. He snuggled close, the panther once again clasped tightly in his arms. "G'night, father. Sleep well."

"You first, my dragon." Lucius guiltily stroked Draco's hair until he was sure he was asleep, then retreated to his room. He felt wretched, but his exhaustion was so severe that he was quickly asleep.

c~c~c~c~c

"Aren't you the pretty one? Let's see how pretty you scream..." Draco couldn't move. Moody was on top of him, that strange eye boring right into him. He held a dagger to Draco's throat and his other hand...

c~c~c~c~c

Draco awoke, shivering. "Thermos," he ordered the panther. It was instantly warm in his arms, but Draco kept shivering. Draco *hated* how Weasley's stupid ferret trick had triggered the nightmares once again. He had finally gotten over them, after months of waking up screaming. Damned Weasley.

"Master Draco, sir?" Dibby asked gently. Funny, she didn't sound as afraid as usual. "Is you needing anything, sir?"

Draco almost said yes, he wanted his father, but then he remembered how tired his father had looked. Draco didn't have the heart to have Dibby wake him; Draco had a better idea. "Yes, Dibby. Could you make me some hot chocolate? By hand. Magically warmed water makes it tastes... flat."

Dibby nodded. "Yeses, Master Draco, sir," and she popped away.

Draco quickly tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed. He silently crept down the hall to his father's rooms. As long as he did not wake his father, Draco figured that climbing into bed with him would be the best solution for both of them. He'd been afraid Dibby would not approve of his plan, and wake his father trying to prevent it, but Draco also knew that she would never wake Lucius on purpose. As long as he reached his father's rooms before she realized he was gone, Draco would be safe from her meddling.

Very, very quietly, Draco opened his father's bedroom door. Lucius was clearly asleep; the bed curtains were half drawn revealing his slumbering form. Oddly enough, a candelabrum by his father's bed was still lit, adding to the illumination from the fireplace. Draco had never known that his father preferred to sleep in the light. But never mind that, Draco determinedly crept to his father's bed and ever so carefully climbed under the covers. Smiling to himself, Draco slid one arm over his father's waist and gently cuddled against his strong back. He was soon once again sleeping peacefully.

c~c~c~c~c

"Please, little one, please sleep for me. You need your rest and Daddy's tired too." Lucius rocked his infant son, but Draco would not sleep. Sniffling and hiccupping, the baby refused to be soothed, and Lucius was so tired... Death Eater activities were on the rise, and Lucius was being run ragged trying to maintain his positions on the Hogwarts board of Governors and the Ministry and fulfill all the tasks the Dark Lord demanded of him. And there was no one Lucius trusted to take care of Draco as well as Lucius himself could.

Normally, Draco was a joy to Lucius, and taking care of him would give Lucius the energy he needed to fulfill his duel roles. But Draco had been especially fussy for the past two weeks, and the mediwizard had warned that the infant could cause harm to himself by not sleeping as well as he should. Lucius was terrified that Draco might make himself ill, and this worry, on top of his other duties, was exhausting him. If only Draco would sleep...

"Please, my dragon, please. Shhh, rest now. That's it, no more crying." Finally, through the haze of fatigue settled over his brain, Lucius noticed that Draco was indeed no longer crying. Glancing at the infant, Lucius saw he was fast asleep, his tiny arms wrapped around Lucius neck, and his perfect, little head resting on Lucius' shoulders. He was so beautiful... Lucius did not have the strength to put the boy back in his cradle. "I love you," Lucius sighed as he drifted off, his baby a warm weight against his side...

c~c~c~c~c

Lucius slowly awoke from his first pleasant dream in... he could not remember how long. At first, he thought that he was not fully awake, as he could still feel the warmth of his son pressed against his side. Then he assumed that it was the stuffed dragon he was leaning against, but then he noticed a pale arm draped over his waist.

"Draco?"

"Hm?" Draco blinked sleepily, then he smiled. "Good morning, father. Did you sleep well?"

Lucius stared at Draco, breathless with fear. But he finally managed to calmly ask, "Draco, why are you in bed with me?"

Draco, unaware of the anxiety he had caused, or how close he had come to... just shrugged. "I had a nightmare. I did not want to wake you, and I figured since you were already asleep I would not be disturbing you."

"Draco," Lucius said severely, "I told you to wake me if you needed me."

Draco shrugged again, still unaware of the gravity of the situation. "You looked so tired, I didn't want to wake you. I didn't see the need."

"Draco," Lucius replied, finally letting some of his fear and anger creep into his voice, "That was *extremely* dangerous; don't you *ever* do that again."

Draco gazed up at him with wide eyes, "But why? You've slept with me before."

How could Lucius explain to Draco that Lucius could easily have been caught in the grips of a nightmare and hurt Draco in his sleep last night? Dear Merlin, he could have hit him, or cursed him, or... Lucius did not want to think about it. But he couldn't tell Draco that; not only would it cause Draco to worry, he would also likely be angry that Lucius had kept the truth from him. As always, this was all Lucius' fault; Draco could have gotten hurt... Oh, what could he say? "Draco, you should not be wandering about the Manor alone at night. If you had fallen and gotten hurt, neither Dibby nor I would know where to find you-"

"That is bullshit!" Draco snapped.

"Watch your language," Lucius snapped back. He immediately regretted it, but Draco did not seem to notice.

"No! You are hiding things from me again! There's something really wrong, and you won't let me know what it is! All I can do is sit and worry while you fall apart, and all the while you are still treating me like a damn child!"

"You are a child!"

Lucius expected Draco to keep yelling at him, possibly even slap him -the boy did have quite a temper- but he did not. Draco stared at Lucius, his wide, silver eyes unusually bright. Finally, in a tear choked voice, he said, "If that's what you think of me, then I'm just going to go to my room and curl up with my teddy, and you can do your big, important adult stuff and *leave me the hell alone*!"

Lucius was too shocked to go after Draco when he climbed of the bed and stumbled out of the room. He'd made Draco cry, and undermined his delicate self-image. Lucius did think of Draco as still his little boy, but that did not mean he thought him incompetent or ignorant. It was just that Lucius would always want to hold and protect him. It was also a convenient excuse to throw at Draco whenever he started asking questions that Lucius was too weak to answer. This was all Lucius' fault; he had hurt his precious son terribly, and he did not know how to fix it without hurting him even more. He was so stupid, so useless. Despite himself, Lucius began to sob; he felt so helpless, so disgusted by himself. What had he done?

O~O~O~O~O

Draco threw himself down onto his bed and curled up into a tight ball. Why did his father insist on treating his like a baby? Was he really that helpless? What was it that his father was hiding that he thought Draco couldn't handle? Was his father sick? Was he dying? The questions were driving Draco mad, and the thought that his father did not trust him with the truth hurt more than he wanted to admit. Lucius had issues; Draco knew that. But Draco also knew that he kept needing his father to save him. He couldn't even handle Weasley on his own; his father had good cause not to respect him. Didn't he?

Draco was so confused. He spent a long time lying in bed, trying to make sense of the situation. He jumped, startled, when there was a knock at his door.

"Draco?" he heard his father ask quietly, "May I please come in?"

Draco's first impulse was to shout 'No!', but his father sounded... hesitant, uncertain; he might have been intending to apologize. "Are you going to tell me the truth?" Draco asked.

"As much as I am able," Lucius replied hesitantly.

"Come in," Draco sniffed; wiping away tears he had not known he had cried.

The door opened slowly, and Lucius entered, his head bowed in a subservient manner. "Draco, I am so sorry. I never meant for you to think that I don't think you are capable or intelligent. I love you, and I do trust you. It's just that I don't want to lose you-"

"You won't. Father, I know that this must be something really big for you to hide it from me like this, but I'm not a little kid. I can handle it."

"That's not exactly what I meant. I am... afraid. I see you becoming more self-sufficient all the time, and soon you won't need me at all. And what will I do then? That's terribly selfish of me, I know..."

"Oh, father, that's not what this whole thing is about..."

"No. I just had to explain to you why I still like to think of you as my child. I don't know if I can explain the other... matter."

"Why not?"

"It...hurts. I..." Draco watched, concerned, as Lucius' eyes became unfocused and he started rocking back and fourth very slightly.

Draco carefully climbed to his feet. "Father? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Lucius blinked several times, his face still eerily expressionless. "You see, I... I've been..."

"Father?" Draco very carefully approached Lucius. What was wrong with him? Draco was starting to get very scared. Draco very carefully placed a hand on his father's arm. Lucius instantly froze. "Father? Are you all right?"

"No, Draco, I'm not." Finally, Lucius' eyes seemed to focus. Draco thought he could see tears forming in them.

Draco was now terribly frightened. What had he done? He was starting to think that he did not want to hear what was wrong after all. "Father, why don't you come sit down." Lucius stumbled to the bed, Draco following him closely.

Lucius sat heavily and placed his head in his hands. "Draco, my precious, I do love you, and I do trust you, but I just don't know if I can talk about this..."

Draco was scared, but he could see how much his father must have been agonizing about whatever 'this' was. In truth, he was not sure that he could handle whatever was troubling his father so, but he also knew, from personal experience, that it was usually better to confide in someone. He wanted to help his father. "Father, please. I can see how much you are hurting. Whatever it is, you will probably feel better if you can tell someone. Tell me, please." Two 'pleases' at once: that was probably a record for Draco.

"I... you are probably right, but I don't want to burden you-"

"I want to be burdened. Tell me."

"If you are certain..."

Draco was getting more doubtful by the second, but he answered, "I am."

"I... this is so difficult... I've been struggling with memories… and nightmares. I did not want you in my bed because I was afraid that I might have had a nightmare and inadvertently hurt you."

"Are they... about your father?"

"Yes."

Draco really did not want to hear this, but his father needed help so badly. "Tell me about them."

"No, no I can't," Lucius was still hiding his face in his hands, but Draco could hear that he was close to crying.

"Please, father. You need to tell someone, if not me, someone else; or write it in a journal or something. Father, I can see this is killing you." Draco knew that he was blinking back tears, but he could not bring himself to care so much right now.

Unexpectedly, Lucius hugged Draco tightly. Draco hugged him back. "I cannot tell anyone these things, precious; I haven't the courage."

"Then write them down, anything, just get them out of you."

Lucius pulled back a bit, stroking Draco's cheek like he used to when Draco was very young. "If you insist, I will try to write them down. For you."

Draco returned to the safety of his father's embrace. "I just want you to be all right again."

"Oh, precious, I was never all right," Lucius murmured to himself. Lucius didn't sound as if he expected Draco to hear it, but Draco did.

* End Chapter 9*

Disclaimer 2:

(1)"You Belong to Me" by Jo Stafford

(2)"The Entertainer" by Billy Joel (This is Blaise's theme song)

(3)"Don't Let Me Get Me" by Pink

(4) "On My Own" from Les Miserables