Author's note: And here's the rest of the chapter! I thought it was going to kill me! I tried very hard to display a lot of the tangled emotions that can sometimes exist between a parent and their child, as I believe the relationship between Draco and Lucius might be dysfunctional. I hope I did a decent job! Please tell me what you think!
I want to thank all of you who've read and enjoyed my fic enough to give it praise! I really take inspiration from you, and I am truly grateful! J
Particular thanks to Abforth, Mytsie, and Rebuky for being so encouraging in your e-mails! I was really motivated by them! But I don't mean to leave any of you out! Thank you all!
Lucius Malfoy had arrived just before lunch at Hogwarts, while Draco had been in Care of Magical Creatures. He'd been quite glad to leave, since Hagrid had obtained several Occamy and one had started laying a clutch of eggs right in the middle of the lesson. The state of its distress before had caused it to try and bite whoever had gone near any of its three heads, but after the first egg appeared it actually started slithering after the group that was studying it. Hagrid had donned a dragonhide glove and captured the three headed snake before it got too out of control, but it's hisses had gotten loud, and it was obvious that it was about to expel another egg. If the message informing him of his father's arrival hadn't come when it did he might have chosen to skip the rest of the lesson regardless.
He'd been summoned to Snape's office, and the memory of Monday morning made his stomach begin burning. He hadn't looked at his father at first, because no matter how angry he was, he was also intimidated by Lucius. It had always been that way. And the intimidation had always made him try harder to please, yet it was difficult to try too hard at anything when it was obvious that Lucius didn't notice his accomplishments. His failures were all that mattered, and how badly they reflected on the Malfoy name.
Snape had discreetly left the room, and Lucius had looked closely at his son.
"Are you eating? You seem to have lost weight."
Draco looked up at this, and found his eyes locking with his father's. "I'm fine." He'd replied softly.
"Well, I had to see for myself. Your mother's ready to tear her perfect coif over this, but you haven't been harmed, have you?"
"No, I'm all right," he'd repeated, wondering what to say himself. His father had made the long trip to Hogwarts to see if he was all right, and despite Draco's decision to stop allowing his father to plan his life, he still felt grateful and a bit giddy that he'd come. Perhaps Lucius had found out what was going on.
"Do you know who's behind this, father?" Draco had asked, "I can't imagine why anyone would cross you this way, it's mad!"
"As to that, I haven't found out. But we have many enemies, many who would do much to prove I'm weak. You're safe here, however. Dumbledore has assured me that more protective wards have been placed upon the grounds as well as the school. And the Ministry's hard at work looking for that nest of Vampires—"
"What nest of Vampires?" Draco frowned.
"The one rumored to be lurking in Wales," his father had said, raising his eyebrows and staring off into space, "My informants knew about them weeks ago, of course."
"You knew about them, but you said nothing?" Draco had asked after a moment of shock, trying not to sound angry. Lucius had turned to his son coldly.
"They had many tasks from many people set before them, and their allegiances are always questionable. I didn't know you were a target for anything Draco, so no, I said nothing. But then," he'd smiled icily, "Why would I?"
Draco had struggled to keep his expression unreadable. The burning in his stomach had increased, and he'd felt his throat close at his father's words, because they made perfect sense. Why would Lucius Malfoy feel it necessary to inform the Ministry about a nest of Vampires, especially since they were most likely working for him? For the first time in his life, Draco had seen the danger of the path his father walked. How easy it can be to turn from hunter to the prey. As he stared at his father, Draco felt a growing pressure building in his chest.
"What about….your Patron?" he'd asked carefully. Lucius's gaze had flown onto Draco instantly.
"He has other matters to deal with at the moment," Lucius had snapped, "Things are being looked into, boy. Stop your whining!"
The pressure in his chest had increased at these words. Stop whining? Oh, certainly father, it's only my life! But that's not as important as your secrets, is it? It had cost Draco dearly to keep his expression impassive, but he reckoned that he'd succeeded well enough. Lucius had then turned to other matters.
"So, have you had enough of being thrown off of the team?" he'd asked almost cheerfully, making Draco's heart twist.
"I've already been replaced." He'd replied woodenly.
Lucius had waved a hand airily, "They'll take you back, boy, and you know it. Most talented Seeker Slytherin House has had in many a year, and that's saying something. Of course," Lucius's voice had dropped a few degrees here, "It seems that Gryffindor's Seeker still has one over you."
Draco had looked directly at his father then, "Not anymore."
Lucius's eyes had narrowed, and Draco had felt a grim stab of satisfaction knowing he'd poked his father's reason. But then his father had leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"If you want to play again, you can. Just stop this stupidity about the Parkinson girl. She might not be the best looking choice, but there are plenty worse."
Draco had suddenly felt lightheaded as he'd returned his father's stare. Start courting Pansy again and he could play Quidditch. It was that simple.
"But why should I care about her looks, father? She's rich, well connected, and a pureblood too."
Lucius was too much an expert at sarcasm himself not to recognize it when it was being directed at him. He'd scowled at his son, his pale face flushing.
"I do not tolerate defiance, my boy." He'd growled, "I was hoping to teach you a lesson about life. Sometimes you have to compromise to get what you want!"
Compromise, that was all. Just court Pansy, accept her back; deal with her stupidity and inane babble, and he would be able to play Quidditch again, something he loved and already missed. He'd allowed his thoughts to drift back to Tuesday evening, when he'd snuck into the Pitch to watch the new Seeker, Phillip O'Brien, being trained.
The boy was good for a Fourth year, but needed to work on his mid air turns. Draco had watched until his vision had blurred, then he'd run to the far side of the lake. His tears had been hot, his sobs had wracked his frame and the pain had been unlike anything he'd ever felt in his life. It was then he'd realized that he'd never loved anything before, except his mother. And to have it so cruelly snatched away because he'd refused to subject himself to the misery of Pansy's company made his temper flare. But he'd controlled it. It was never wise to openly defy Lucius Malfoy.
"Damn it, boy, what is there to think about?" His father had snapped when the silence had grown long. Draco had been unable to speak until that moment, and when he finally had it had shocked them both.
"There's much to think about Lucius," He'd replied stonily, "I don't particularly like having to bargain for my freedoms."
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Draco knew there would be hell to pay. Lucius's nostrils flared, and his already flushed face went crimson with fury.
"Indeed," he'd murmured menacingly, "I hadn't realized we were on a first name basis. Very well. Since you refuse to be reasonable I am forced to add Hogsmeade visits to the list of privileges you will no longer have. In addition, you will volunteer to tutor the younger students of this school who need it. I believe the minimum donation of time is five hours per week. That should put you in plenty of contact with the Mudbloods."
Draco had stared in horror. No Hogsmeade visits and tutoring? Impossible! But of course it wasn't. Lucius was punishing him again, and making sure it hurt. Draco had stood and tried to argue, but Lucius had responded by slapping him hard across the face, drawing blood.
"Clearly," he'd growled, bringing his face close to Draco's, "someone has been breeding disobedience and stupidity in you. But not to worry, I'll straighten you out."
Draco stared numbly at the ground beneath his boots. His father had had nothing more to say, and had called Professor Snape back into the office to inform him of the new restrictions that were to be placed on Draco. It had taken every ounce of strength that Draco had still possessed to keep his trembling minimal, and not to burst into tears. But he'd done it.
He'd been dismissed moments later, his father wanting to speak privately with Snape. No doubt he wished to complain at his son's new lack of respect. He couldn't recall how he'd gotten through the rest of the day. Snape had excused him from the rest of his classes, telling him to remain in his room and rest. But Draco had found that impossible, and had wandered every inch of the castle until dinner time, seeing nothing and hearing his father's voice echoing in his mind.
"Conform to my plans…born to disgrace my existence…stop your whining…someone has been breeding disobedience and stupidity in you…"
His thoughts had whirled until the pressure in his chest was painful and the pounding of his blood was audible to his ears. Instead of heading to the Great Hall for dinner, he'd gone to his room and torn it to shreds. How, he didn't remember, except for a roar of rage that must have come from himself. Crabbe and Goyle had later told him that they had gone upstairs to see how he was doing, and had had to pounce on him to make him stop destroying everything.
When Goyle had finally gotten a firm hold of Draco, Crabbe had run for Snape. Thankfully, there had been almost no one in the corridor at the time and Snape had effectively threatened both students into silence. Draco vaguely remembered being whisked off to Madam Pomfrey for some minor injuries he'd inflicted on himself. Apparently he'd ripped some of his own hair out, and had dragged his nails down his face. But she'd fixed it up nicely. Snape had returned to the room he shared with his friends and fixed everything in the meantime, and all looked normal by the time he returned.
His whole body had ached for the next two days, however, and his concentration had suffered. He'd failed his Charms quiz on Thursday.
All in all the whole week had been a disaster, and he wasn't looking forward to Christmas. He'd opted to stay at school, as he had no desire to be in close proximity of his father. His mother had owled this morning, pleading with him to change his mind. But he was afraid that if he went home now, he'd either kill his father or he'd kill himself.
The sound of laughter broke in on his thoughts once more, and he exhaled impatiently at the interruption. He pulled his thoughts back and tried to make sense of what his life was becoming. He suddenly remembered Snape's words; "Your choice, once made, will define your person for all time. Whether that leads to success or regret is entirely up to you."
The decision was more difficult than he'd ever thought it could be. With the rebellion that had been brewing in his heart against Lucius, Draco found his very identity in limbo. What did he want? If he was no longer set to please his father, to whom would he turn to for guidance?
He still had Professor Snape as a friend. But as much as he respected and admired the Potions Master, the man wasn't his father. Although very little that could be called real affection had ever existed between himself and Lucius, there had nevertheless been a bond. With a sinking heart Draco realized that, as the bond continued to fray, he was becoming more lost. And for the first time in his life he had nothing but uncertainty and fear in his mind.
Quite suddenly, he thought of Potter. The Boy Who Lived had essentially been on his own since his parents had been killed. He'd been raised by his Muggle family, true. But the tales Draco had heard said that he'd been abused and neglected by them. He was doing splendidly now, though, and had been since coming to Hogwarts.
His eyes narrowed as he thought of his most bitter rival. Harry Potter, who always saved the day, who never failed to trample on school rules to figure out a mystery, then got rewarded for it. If he hadn't been around, Draco was sure he'd be the top student in school. The opportunity to die in the Chamber of Secrets had been second highest on the list of dangerous happenings Potter always seemed to stumble in to, and yet he'd somehow triumphed. And it had lost any chance of getting Hagrid or Dumbledore sacked, not to mention getting rid of the Mudbloods, and—
And Ginny Weasley would have been killed.
The sudden remembrance of this fact brought Draco's anger to a halt. He realized he was doing it again; reacting with hatred and bitter emotion in response to something Potter had done, just because it was Potter who'd done it. This wasn't about Potter, this was about Draco, his father, and the rest of his life.
Once again, a peal of laughter broke in on his musings, and Draco turned towards the sound with a snarl—
And saw Ginny Weasley arm in arm with Caleb Anderson.
Draco froze in shock, his face suddenly relaxing as it went slack. Ginny was with Anderson, and she was apparently happy about it!
Draco's frown returned as he watched Caleb speaking airily to Ginny, saying something like, "never mind the details," Anderson was leading her towards the carriages, falling in behind a group of students headed to Hogsmeade. What was she doing with that idiotic prankster? Where were Weasley and Potter? Where was Granger, or at least Dresh? Was she actually going to set off alone with Anderson, without her friends' knowledge?
And why the hell was she hanging on his arm?
Without realizing it at first, Draco began walking towards them. The carriages were filling up fast, but the couple was at the back of the line. Draco quickened his steps, then began running to catch up. By the time he reached them, they were boarding the final carriage, and it was only the two of them in it.
"What are you doing?" he blurted, gasping from his last minute sprint. Both she and Anderson turned to him in surprise.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy," Caleb grinned, "Lovely day for a visit to Hogsmeade."
Draco glared at Caleb, who continued to smile in an unruffled manner. Ginny frowned, halting her progress into the carriage.
"What is it, Malfoy?" she asked.
Oh, back to Malfoy, are we? He thought angrily. "I was just wondering where you were going." He snapped.
"Hmm…not as bright as your hair would indicate, are you?" Caleb smirked, causing Draco to scowl.
"I know where you're going, idiot!" he yelled.
"Please," Ginny shushed them, then looked at Draco, "Did you want to come along?"
Caleb's smile suddenly dropped. Turning to Ginny he began to try and shove her into the carriage, "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy has plenty of other things to entertain himself with."
Ginny, taken by surprise, stumbled into the carriage as Caleb scrambled in after her. Just as he was about to close the door, Draco reached out and caught it.
Caleb forced a smile, "Mr. Malfoy, the carriage won't work until I close the door."
Draco stared at him a moment, then looked past him at Ginny. She was rubbing her bottom and looking at them both with irritation, her bright red hair falling around her face like a cloud.
He wasn't supposed to go to Hogsmeade.
Pulling the door open, he leaped inside.
"You don't mind, do you?" he smirked at Caleb. Anderson scowled as Ginny stifled a giggle.