BEHIND LOCKED DOORS
WARNING: Rated R for profanity and homosexual relations of the incestuous kind. But this is actually a story with a plot, not smutty homosexual porn. Flames only keep me warm in winter.
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Chapter Six: Tears, old memories, and a fond farewell
THE SUMMER AFTER DRACO'S FIFTH YEAR
"My last night tonight." Draco stated matter-of-factly as he sauntered into his Father's study. Lucius glanced up from his roll of parchment, grunted, and continued writing.
"Tomorrow morning I go back to Hogwarts to commence my Sixth year. You won't see your only son again until mid-December, or maybe not until next June." No response, just the scratching of Lucius' quill against the rough parchment. Draco rolled his eyes and decided to try a different approach.
"So I made the most of tonight by using up your best FireWhiskey in a sculling competition with Mother and the House-Elves."
"WHAT?" Lucius' whipped around instantaneously, only to be faced with a snickering Draco.
"Well, I had to get your attention *somehow!*" Draco said in-between snorts of laughter. A wry smile curved on Lucius' lips.
"Ever blessed with the Malfoy wit I see, Draco." He noted, not raising his voice. "So what if it's your last night tonight?"
"You won't miss me?" Draco pouted in mock-indignation.
"Not at all." Lucius replied, trying to keep his face neutral.
"Not even a little?" Draco pouted even more, sticking out his plump lower lip, and biting the inside of his mouth was all Lucius could do to prevent a snort of laughter at his son's unusual display of immaturity.
"Well…" He paused for a moment, twisting a lock of his long, silvery-blonde hair. "Well, maybe…just a little…" Draco raised an eyebrow, still pouting and Lucius threw up his hands in defeat.
"Alright, alright! I admit that I *am* going to miss your company, Draco, as well as having somebody that I trust enough to confide in." Draco smirked in triumph.
"But of course you will miss me! I'm just so loveable and sickeningly adorable!" Lucius couldn't help laughing. The laughter, which for once was free of any maliciousness, sounded unusual coming from the Death-Eater's throat.
"My son? Sickeningly adorable? Maybe when Hell freezes over and Voldemort announces to the world that Dumbledore is his lover, but not a moment before." Lucius rolled up his piece of parchment and opened his desk cabinet to pull out a bottle of alcoholic Butterbeer and two goblets.
"Well, seeing as I won't be seeing you until December, would you care for a drink?" Without waiting for an answer, he filled the glasses and handed one to his son. Draco ignored the glasses. Instead, his gaze seemed to be fixated on something else.
"What is it?" Lucius snapped impatiently. Draco really had a way of making him feel uneasy without even blinking.
"Your arms."
"What about them?" Draco gave him a small smile.
"You don't have any new scars, and your old ones have faded so mucg\h. Have you stopped mutilating yourself for good?" Lucius shrugged, trying to remain apathetic.
"I haven't done it ever since we started talking over a year. I will admit, I have felt the urge to, but it has weakened considerably since then." Draco's smile widened.
"I'm glad to hear of it, Father." He replied, raising his glass towards the elder Malfoy before drinking from it. A surprisingly comfortable silence ensued as they sat face-to-face, sipping from their goblets.
"Can I ask you something, Father?" Draco's deep, smooth voice broke the easy silence between them. Lucius shrugged.
"I suppose. What is it?"
"Well, I"ve really been meaning to ask you this for a long time. Do you *really* regret becoming a Death Eater, or were you just having me on?" Lucius' just stared at his son, his mouth slightly agape in surprise at such a blunt question. Now it was Draco who began to feel uneasy in the silence that followed. Lucius' penetrating gaze was fixed rigidly on his only son in a way that made him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.
"You don't *have* to answer if…I mean, it was just a question that's been running through my head and I thought…" Draco's voice trailed off and once more, there was silence.
"You're right, Draco. It *is* just a question, and curiosity is merely part of our human nature." Lucius spoke in a calm, unaffected manner, eyes still locked on his son. "Therefore" He continued. "I see no harm in satisfying your curiosity."
Lucius stared at his goblet before drinking deeply from it. His eyes returned to Draco's face as he began his story.
"As I have told you many times before, the Malfoy name is not only highly influential, it has also been involved with darkness for many generations, so it comes as no surprise that our name is actually Latin for 'Bad Faith.' We have always followed the darkness because it coincides with the beliefs our ancestors have drummed into the family, most of which, in my opinion, are perfectly understandable. When you join the darkness, you sell the Dark Lord, whoever he may be at the time, your soul in return for increased magical abilities, physical and mental power, social status, and, of course, money. Your soul does not provide any of these things, which is why I had no problems in selling it." He paused to take a breath.
"Of course, that's not to say my opinions were rigid. I was already a nominated Death-Eater once I became involved with James Potter, and, for the first time in my life, I began to actually think about whether life could hold something else for me. But I had the sense not to ask questions in my family. If Othello found out that I was actually learning to think for myself, it would've cost me dearly, and I have no doubt that grievous harm would have come to James if Othello was to become aware of my relationship with him."
"How old *were* you when you became a Death Eater?"
"Not old enough." Lucius answered, giving his son a humourless smile. "To be precise, I was sixteen, and most Death Eaters are usually at least eighteen on their initiations. I wasn't exactly forced into my initiation though…I guess you could say that the sides of light and darkness both were out to seduce my mind, and it was the darkness that was successful. At the time, it seemed that selling my soul for material luxuries rather than saving it was the more appealing option. And all my expectations were met…for awhile at least."
"Then what?" Sadness was evident in Lucius' silvery eyes as he answered.
"Voldemort attacked the Potters. That *rat* of a slave, Peter Pettigrew, was supposed to be their keeper. He ratted them out to Voldemort, who, might I add, took great pleasure in eliminating James and Lily until it all backfired. Then…everything I ever cared for or believed in died in a flash of green light. My Lord, my love of the Dark Side, my faith in Voldemort, and…the only person I had ever truly loved romantically." Lucius' could feel the tears that he had kept hidden for so many years pricking at the back of his skull, and he blinked them away fiercely before fixing his stare on his son.
"I remember attending the Potter's funeral, but I was still numb from the shock. I was there before anybody else, so I could pay my respects in privacy, of course…but… it wasn't until I finally saw James' body with my own eyes that it finally sank in. I would never be able to see, talk, or hold him in my arms ever again. And for the first and most likely, the last time in my life… I cried, Draco. I fell to my knees and I cried a river of tears on James Potter's unmoving chest. Then, for what would also be the last time in my life, I kissed him before laying a rose in his coffin and I left the church." Lucius paused again to take another breath and continue his story.
"Everything seemed to lose it's meaning after that. I felt so alone and unhappy, like there was nothing left to live for…so I began to cut myself. I guess you could say I was trying to punish myself for James' death. Then…you were born Draco. I remember the day your mother went into labour, her screams of pain…She was only eighteen, you know, eight years my junior, and had never experienced pain like that. I was also forbidden to be in the room after two hours because she was threatening to castrate me with a spoon if I ever put her through *that* again." The two Malfoy's shared a brief smirk.
"Then…it was over. There was silence until your mother called out to me, her voice hoarse from the five hours of screaming she had just endured. So I entered the room, and she was just lying there. The nurse had cleaned her up a bit, I remember. Her hair was in two plaits, making her look even younger than she already was, and she was wearing clean pyjamas. She was holding this tiny bundle of blue blankets in her arms, and was just staring at it in captivation.
After a moment, she looked up at me with this tiny smile on her face and held out the bundle to me. 'Lucius. Say hello to our child.' She said. I took you in my arms, and I remember how fixedly you stared at me. Then…all these emotions that I had kept buried deep inside me for the last three months just rushed back into me. All the pain, the hate, the loneliness. But most of all, the love. I held you close like I was trying to make your ten-minute old body feel everything I was feeling that moment, and I could feel myself hyperventilating from the emotional overload. I loved you so much at that moment that it hurt. I loved you not only because you were a part of me, but also because you made me realise how low I had been sinking ever since James' death. I felt like I had a reason to live because you were born, Draco. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took the wrong path in life, regardless of how much I loved it at the time. I'm sorry I've been so neglectful towards you. I'm sorry I didn't make the effort to bond with you as you grew up…"
The pain in Lucius' eyes and voice was now more obvious than he had ever allowed it to be in the presence of others.
"And I'm sorry I took my cutting too far. I'm sorry that, because of it, I nearly lost the person who gave me a reason to keep living. I know I don't show it…but…I love you more than anything, Draco…and…well, I don't know what I would've done without you."
Draco just stared at his Father, feelings of shock and pain coursing through him. Then, quite suddenly, it all became too much, and for one of the very rare occasions in his life, Draco reached out to his Father. Lucius, though shocked at the sudden gesture of affection, took the younger Malfoy into his arms with no hesitation as he burst into tears that soaked the shoulder of his Father's black robes. Lucius didn't cry, but his breathing was in huge, shuddering gasps as he held Draco close, one hand running through his long, pale blonde hair in a rare display of affection.
"I love you so much, Father!" Draco managed to say in-between sobs. "I know you aren't the perfect Father, but I still love you unconditionally. Please, don't ever leave me…don't ever hurt yourself again! I know you say that I'm your reason to live, and it's requited! If you weren't in my life, I don't think I would be able to cope! I know I don't say it or even show it much at all, but I really do love you!"
"Hush…I know, my dragon. I know." Lucius whispered. Finally, the crying subsided, and Draco gently pulled away from his Father's arms. Lucius sighed emotionlessly, pushing silvery-blonde hair away from his face.
"I think that this moment calls for a good, stiff drink." Lucius commented with a weary smile on his face. Draco smiled back in a similar manner and nodded, wiping his tear-streaked face on the sleeve of his blue robes. Lucius unlocked the cabinet underneath his desk and pulled out a dark glass bottle.
"Single-malt scotch, I think." Lucius said, pouring two full glasses, and handing one to his son. He sipped it thoughtfully.
"What was Azkaban like?" Draco asked, downing his drink. Lucius, already naturally pale, turned ash-grey at the memory. He had barely spent a month in the infamous Wizard Prison, but had been extremely lucky to leave with his sanity and his criminal record wiped clean. Years of forging the right connections in society had paid off.
"More horrible than you could ever imagine." He answered softly. "The place has a forgotten curse on the cells that invades the minds of the prisoners. You can feel your happiness and all your happy memories being sucked out of you with every passing day. You can hear the screams of the insane prisoners through the door of your cell. It's cold, dark, and the food is terrible. All you can do is sit there all day and stare at the wall as your mind slowly rots away."
"Shit." Was all Draco could think of saying. Lucius raised an eyebrow.
"Normally, I'd tell you to watch your language, but I'd have to say that would just about sum it all up correctly. Also, I think I should mention that Azkaban is another reason I don't want you taking the path I chose in life. I barely left with my sanity after a month and I really don't need an example of what it would do to you."
Lucius poured himself another glass of Scotch and the rest of the night began to pass in a blur…
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The next afternoon, Draco entered Kings Cross Station with his Father for the first time since his second year at Hogwarts. It was only early in the afternoon, so the Platform was still fairly isolated. Most people wouldn't be arriving for at least an hour, but Draco had always preferred to arrive early because it meant he could have some time to himself before those two walking rocks named Crabbe and Goyle arrived and he was lumped with them for the rest of the semester.
"I won't lie, Draco. I really am going to miss your company while you're at Hogwarts." Lucius said just low enough for Draco to hear. Draco allowed a tiny smile to creep across his face, but didn't reply.
Finally, they reached the barrier that would take them into Platform 9 ¾. There were more people there than they had anticipated, but that didn't matter.
"Well, I'm sure you can find your way around, Draco, and I do have things to do." Lucius said as they sat down on one of the platform benches. "So I'd best be going now." He stood up to leave.
"Wait a second, Father!" Draco sounded kind of urgent, so Lucius swivelled around to look at his son, who quickly rose from his seat and pulled his Father into a hug. Lucius noticed with some interest that their height difference was quite small. Draco was only a half-head shorter than he.
"I'm going to miss you too, Father." Draco whispered in his ear. "I'll promise to owl you every week if you promise to as well." Lucius returned the hug while making sure that nobody was watching. Nobody was, they were all too interested in socialising.
"I promise to, Draco. Take care." He answered before letting go of his son and walking out of Platform 9 ¾. It would now be the start of Draco's sixth year at Hogwarts.
It's not time to make a change
Just relax, take it easy
You're still young, that's your fault
There's so much you have to know
Find a girl, settle down
If you want you can marry
Look at me, I am old but I'm happy
I was once like you are now
And I know that it's not easy
To be calm when you've found something going on
But take your time, think a lot
Think of everything you've got
For you will still be here tomorrow
But your dreams may not
How can I try to explain
When I do he turns away again
And it's always been the same, same old story
From the moment I could talk
I was ordered to listen
Now there's a way and I know
That I have to go away
I know I have to go
It's not time to make a change
Just sit down and take it slowly
You're still young that's your fault
There's so much you have to go through
Find a girl, settle down
If you want you can marry
Look at me, I am old but I'm happy
All the times that I've cried
Keeping all the things I know inside
And it's hard, but it's harder to ignore It
If they were right I'd agree
But it's them they know not me
Now there's a way and I know
That I have to go away
I know I have to go
"Father and Son" – Cat Stevens