A quarter to three, he arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn't been stupid enough to fly across London, where any muggle could've seen him though. Thanks to the many charms he had learned over the summer, he was able to charm himself invisible; only for a limited time, of course.

Swallowing back a large lump that seemed to have formed in his throat, he stepped into the grungy pub with his broom positioned over his shoulder. His hair was tousled from the wind, his cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold, and many heads turned when he entered. They turned back to their friends to whisper. Draco knew that, behind his back, he was talked of as the 'last sane Malfoy.' As he pulled the hood of his cloak up and over his head, he briefly thought of how sorry they'd be if they knew his father was here.

Slowly and carefully, as if he had just become wary of going to meet his father so suddenly after his escape, he weaved his way through the crowded pub. He climbed a case of rickety stairs and followed his footsteps down a short hallway. It was dark and quiet up here, which Draco assumed was the reason his father had picked to meet here. No one would have noticed if he entered in disguise.

He stopped when he read the number fourteen on the door near the end of the hallway. He paused, took a deep breath, and knocked lightly on the door.

"Who is it?" A voice responded quietly.

Draco closed his eyes, swallowing another lump again. This was hardly believable. "It's Draco."

There were footsteps behind the door before it opened up a crack, a dark eye peeking out. It observed Draco for a few seconds before opening the door all the way.

"Hurry, come in," the man said hurriedly, in a slightly raspy voice. He stretched an arm out to motion into the room, and Draco made his way promptly inside. The room looked comfortable enough. Two fluffy armchairs sat in front of a blazing fireplace, and a medium bed sat in the corner beside a small table.

His gaze, almost too cautiously, moved to glance at his father, who had seated himself in one of the armchairs. The hood of his dark and shabby robes had fallen off to reveal... Lucius Malfoy. The same Lucius Malfoy that disappeared into the Azkaban prison a year ago. Nothing looked physically different; all except his robes looked in perfect, clean condition. Draco stared.

"I'm glad you could come meet me on such sort notice, Draco," Lucius said. His voice was no longer hurried or raspy. But... there was something Draco noticed. His father's eyes. They were somehow different. "Wondering how I'm doing, aren't you?" The man questioned.

Draco blinked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Yes... how did you escape? How do you look so well? How did you get here?" Eventually, Draco stopped, deciding to take the spot in the armchair opposite his father. Lucius chuckled.

"Those are complicated to answer. Why don't you inform me of what's been happening in the world while I was gone?" Lucius leaned forward. "Tea?" He drew out his wand, gave it a quick flick, and a tray with two cups of tea appeared on another small table beside them.

Draco ignored the tea for the time being. "Mother is sick." Eyes were averted toward the floor.

There was a soft 'hmm' from where his father was sitting. Nothing else was heard from him. "And she's been away from the house almost every day. She's been lost without you, father. She's depres" Draco paused when he felt a heavy hand on his leg.

"Let's not worry about your mother at the moment. I need to discuss other matters with you..."

"But"

"No, we don't have time for it, son."

Draco glanced toward that hand, then back up at his father. That's when he noticed jut what exactly was wrong with his father's eyes. He was sick too.

There was a sense of fear that welled up inside of Draco then. His father held a stare that had the shadow of someone that had steadily grown insane while in prison. The shadow of a man who could hide it easily by a calm and unnaturally kind behavior. Draco shifted uneasily in his chair.

"What did you want to discuss?" He asked softly. He could no longer look at his father, so he looked back down at the floor instead.

"Have you found anyone yet?"

Draco stayed silent for the following few seconds. "Found... anyone?"

"Yes," Lucius lifted the hand that had been on his leg up to his chin, lifting it upward so that Draco could look at him. "You're the only heir, Draco. In order to keep this going, you eventually must create a child."

Draco's eyes instantly widened. "What? W-what exactly is this 'this'? I haven't found anyone. I'm only seventeen, father."

Lucius seemed to frown. "In order for the Malfoy bloodline to continue following the Dark Lord"

"The Dark Lord?" Draco broke in. "But I don't want anything to do with that!" He shoved his father's hand away from his face. Suddenly, that hand came back and slapped him hard on his right cheek. Draco let out a startled cry. "Why are you doing this?" Draco spoke faintly.

Lucius stood up quickly, his dark glare now resting on his one and only son. "I will not have my son defy the Dark Lord! You are going to serve him whether you like it or not! Is that clear?"

Draco swallowed back something that he knew was very close to tears. "Father... no..."

Another hand came down to strike him on his opposite cheek. "You've always been weak, Draco! I thought you would've learned by now! Has me being put away by a boy your age had any effect on you!" Lucius didn't bother to notice Draco's obvious pain. The boy was cowering in the chair, not daring to get up.

"Stop acting like this! What is it? Are you really this cowardly?" Draco didn't respond, let alone look up. Not until he received another hard slap to the face, that was. "Look at me, boy!"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... please, stop..." Draco muttered in a whisper.

"Then tell me! Tell me why you're disgracing the Malfoy name! You haven't even found a girl yet? That's the easiest task, Draco!"

"It's not that..."

"Tell me then! Don't tell me that you take it up the arse! I will not have a queer as a son!"

"No, it's not that either! Stop doing this! I just don't want to follow Voldemort, okay! This is my life, not yours!" Draco made a quick move to stand up, but he instantly saw another hand heading his way. He put out his arms to block the fourth hit, but his father ended up grabbing both his wrists instead, and pushed him roughly back against the chair. His arms were stretched and pinned over his head as his father leaned in close, scowling.

"I assume that you've chosen for me to force you to decide which side you're on."

Draco squirmed beneath his father's angry glare, pulling weakly at his wrists. He couldn't believe this was happening. His father had definitely gone insane in Azkaban. He never would have hit him before; he never would've laid a hand on him. But now... "I am on your side!"

"Then say that you'll follow me to the Dark Lord's side."

"Please, father... don't make"

"Your choice, Draco," Lucius said coldly. Before anything else could be said, Lucius forced his lips onto Draco's. It was the most unexpected, and the most revolting thing he'd ever experienced.

His eyes widened again, and he made a choked coughing noise in the back of his throat. He tried wrenching his wrists from that hold above his head, but his father still appeared to be stronger. Everything was beginning to happen too fast after that, and Draco couldn't stop it.

He could feel Lucius' tongue forcing its way into his mouth, where he choked again, and shut his eyes as tight as he could. His first instinct was to bite, but the tight pressure against his wrists made him quickly rethink that idea.

That tongue then left, with the lips soon following, and Draco took that chance to plead with his father to stop. "Please... stop... w-what are you doing?" Lucius had begun to bite sharply at Draco's ear, then traveled further downward to lick down his neck. Draco gave a short whimper, tilting his head back. An attempt to get his father off of him was to arch forward, but that didn't seem to be helping either.

"Eager, are you?" Lucius whispered against his neck, his free hand beginning to undo the clasp of Draco's cloak, and then the buttons of his shirt underneath.

"Nononono..." Draco repeated beneath his breath, shaking his head and urging himself not to open his eyes. The hand moved beneath his shirt, and then slid along his chest. Lucius was in quite a rush, and frankly, at the moment, Draco wished to be dead.

More of the biting was done there, Lucius' tongue and teeth leaving faint red marks against his skin. His breathing was starting to quicken; he was fighting not to get sick. His father was beginning to move up against him, in motions that were much too slow and much too close. Draco moaned, feeling himself grow hard, yet very unintentionally. He was disgusted with himself; this was shaming the family. Not defying the Dark Lord.

There was a purr like sound from Lucius, and Draco hardly heard him. He was concentrating so hard on being somewhere else. "Your body appears to be enjoying your punishment, hmm?" That larger hand suddenly jerked downward, grabbing the part of him that he was only too eager to keep away from the invading fingers. He gave a loud, startled gasp and arched violently forward, trying to push his father off. Again, it didn't work, and it made the grip tighten. Draco let out a pained moan.

"Stop, please... please... don't do this... please..." Draco pleaded, louder this time.

"I've already given you a chance, Draco. You have to learn your lesson... to know who has the higher authority..." Lucius began stroking in quick, rough motions, earning several more gasps from Draco and the sensation of nausea, mixed with the forced pleasure.

All of a sudden, he felt himself being tossed onto the floor, the hold on his wrist leaving. He was laying stomach first on the large rug in front of the fire, his eyes burning and his head spinning. As soon as the fact of being freed sunk in, he struggled to stand up and run to the door. But his father stopped him; even before he could lift himself up from the floor. "Now let this teach you to never disobey me again..." Lucius whispered, leaning down so his voice was only inches from his ear. By now, hot tears were beginning to leak out from the corners of Draco's eyes. He couldn't move. He heard a sound that sounded horribly like a belt dropping to the floor. He could feel his father's legs pinning each of his sides.

All he could concentrate on now was the fast beating of his heart, the way everything seemed to be slowing down, the way his father was leaning over him. Once he felt all the remaining clothing leave him, he tried to hold his breath. Tried to pass out. But nothing happened, and he let out a loud cry when he felt the unwanted and violent intrusion. Black patches faded in behind his eyelids, along with more of the strangled sobs... and the unbelievable pain. It wasn't long before he fell unconscious.

Later that evening, his father covered Draco up with one of the blankets from the bed, but kept him lying on the floor. Then... he left.