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Chapter Eleven
"You incorrigible, puny, writhing, slithering half-wit! How can you call yourself a Malfoy? You are not even fit to associate yourself with the Pettigrew lineage!"
Draco cringed under the latest attack. For three straight days now Lucius had been screaming, seemingly nonstop, over the idiocy of his only son. Every now and then Narcissa would poke her head in, punctuating Lucius' rant with her meek pleas for him to sit down and eat. Lucius, for his part, cast away all the food that Narcissa offered as if it were poison. Draco however felt no shame in accepting whatever his mother offered, grateful for whatever he could manage. He had been on the receiving end of his father's wrath many times before and knew the benefit of maintaining his strength, not to mention his spirit. There was no telling when Lucius, in a burst of rage, would suddenly reach for his wand, firing off curses with reckless abandon. Glancing around the study it was clear that this had already been done; books lay scattered haphazardly around the room and the chair that Draco now occupied still smoldered from Lucius' latest harangue.
"Father, please let me explain! How was I to know that the vial of blood needed to be pure? Perhaps if you had disclosed the intention of the ingredient I may have been more careful when I went to collect it!" Although inwardly he was shaking, Draco's tone was firm and steady as he faced his father. It was well known that to Lucius, cowardliness was like an unforgivable curse, a sign of weakness that was completely intolerable. For a moment Lucius stopped yelling, his mouth snapping shut as if manipulated by some unseen force. His pallid visage darkened and when he spoke his voice was low and deadly.
"Are you so incompetent that I have to clarify my every intention with you?" Lucius hissed startling Draco back into his seat. Draco was about to protest but Lucius was quick to clip him off. "Are you so inept that I have to explain every single thing to you? I asked you for one thing and you could not even deliver me that!" Draco stood, his knees quivering with fear, his mouth set in anger.
"I tried! You don't understand how hard I tried!" Draco argued.
"You obviously didn't try hard enough you insolent brat!" Lucius snapped, whipping a neatly gloved hand across Draco's stunned face. It took only a moment for him to recover from the sting and when he did his own voice had assumed a note of malice and accusation.
"I followed her around for weeks and I made a fool of myself! I tried to nick her every chance I could! I went to the bloody Quidditch matches in hopes that a bludger would come into the stands and hit her! I even asked Professor Snape to make me her lab partner so I might have the chance to hurt her? Do you know how ridiculous I must have looked? Do you know how much I suffered for this? For you! Don't you dare accuse me of not trying!"
"Well you didn't try very hard now did you? You managed to get a nice full vial somehow—don't lie to me boy! You wimped out on the job!"
"You asked for blood! How the bloody hell was I supposed to get Granger's blood? I couldn't very well walk up to her and ask for it, so I got creative! I got Pansy to donate on Granger's behalf—not that that was easy by the way! Besides, I got you some of what you asked for, it wasn't as if I tried to deceive you so much!" Lucius let his hand fly again but this time Draco barely flinched.
"Some? SOME? I didn't ask you for some of Granger's blood, I asked you for a vial of it! It was one fourth of an ounce you dim-witted imbecile!"
"It was mostly her blood! What big difference does it make anyway?" Lucius sighed heavily as if Draco was an idiot.
"What difference does it make? What difference does it make? You're just damn lucky that it was Granger he saw before Pansy or else you would have made a blood offering and mark my words it would not have been voluntarily!" Lucius bellowed incredulously. He stared at Draco, narrowing his eyes furiously. "The difference is that the potion is useless! Without Granger's blood—and only Granger's blood (he cast an accusing eye towards Draco who, for his credit, stood his ground)—the potion is not a love potion but a lust potion. It just enhances natural feelings, so unless Weasley had already been willing to die for Miss Granger he will be no more torn when she rejects his advances than he would have been if she had rejected him in sane mind!" Lucius watched his son for a reaction and was surprised when instead of shame powdering his expression it was interest.
"What if he was?" Draco asked suddenly, startling his father into silence. Lucius gaped at his son, wondering what exactly could be going through his very thick skull.
"What do you mean? Speak clearly for once!" Lucius demanded, somewhat shakily. Draco's sudden interest was disarming and Lucius couldn't help speculating what he was up to. Draco took a breath.
"I meant what if Weasley was willing to die for Granger before you slipped him the potion?" Despite all his efforts, Lucius was intrigued.
"What do you mean?"
"Ever since first year it's been blatantly obvious that the weasel is mad for the girl. I'd be willing to bet that he already was willing to die for her." Lucius reached out, gripping Draco by the shoulders.
"Are you sure?" He demanded to know. If what he said was true, then the potion had a chance at working. It might even be able to reach the point to which Weasley would be physically ripped apart in his affections for Granger. Unless of course—no—Lucius thought, pushing away the doubt. There's no way that Granger feels the same way for Weasley. It's unthinkable. Lucius looked back towards his son who eyes were now glimmering conspiratorially.
"I'm positive. Weasel's feelings are hardly a secret. He's been following Grange around like a whipped puppy every since he saw her at the Yule Ball. It's sickening really," Draco speculated, a gloat falling over his tone. Lucius looked at his son, a smirk falling across his colorless features. All the resentment he had felt for Draco faded away as the situation suddenly seemed much brighter than it had in a while.
From a far corner of the study, Narcissa sat, watching the exchange between the two men. They were both so stubborn, so full of anger. A shudder ran the course of her spine, sending shivers through her system. It's amazing, she thought with a pang of misery, how alike they have come to be. In a heartbeat she knew that her son had stepped in the shoes of his father.
