This is from today the longest story I've written so far :) and it's not over yet!

Chapter Thirty

The Portrait

The sun was setting as Draco walked down one of the corridors on the ground floor of Malfoy Manor, deep in thought.

He was still overwhelmed by everything Granger had told him three days earlier.

She was willing to be his mate. She really wanted it.

Weasley's unwelcome visit had brought good news, but thanks to that he had only been able to speak to her by owl.

She was so busy getting everything ready that she was staying at the Ministry all day, and he hadn't dared to go there to bother her.

Draco folded the parchment in his hand, putting it in a pocket. He had just received a letter from Granger saying that she hoped to be home early and that she and Harry would be waiting for him at Grimmauld Place for dinner together, and he had already sent her his affirmative reply.

He turned right, hearing a deep voice as he passed the library doors.

"So you're finally deigning to visit me."

Draco glanced up, his eyes narrowing.

The portrait of Lucius Malfoy that had been made just before he started Hogwarts was staring down at him with a calculating expression, sitting on his large black leather armchair with his metal cane between his knees.

"Father," Draco muttered under his breath, lifting his chin. "Don't get too excited. I was just passing by."

Lucius gave him a scornful look.

"So ungrateful," he snarled, shaking his head. "After all I've done for you..."

"You're right," Draco murmured sarcastically, lifting the left sleeve of his shirt to reveal his Dark Mark. "I'm very grateful to you for this."

Lucius looked away, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"I heard you've found your mate."

"Who told you that?" Draco asked, folding his arms.

"The whole house knows," he added with a shrug.

Draco scanned the rest of the portraits in the corridor and everyone avoided his gaze.

"These bloody paintings are so nosy," he grunted between his teeth, clenching his fists.

"Has she accepted you?"

He looked back at his father at the question, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Yes," he confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "We will complete the bond at the next full moon."

"I'm happy for you, son," Lucius replied, bowing his head slightly. "And what are your plans?"

"Plans?" Draco repeated, furrowing his brow.

Lucius arched an eyebrow back at him.

"You don't plan to let the entire wizarding world know that you have chosen a Mud... a Muggleborn mate, right?"

Draco hissed angrily, knowing what his father had been about to say.

"I don't care."

"Don't be a fool," Lucius said, rolling his eyes. "That's the worst possible option."

He laughed half-heartedly. Since his father was seated, their faces were on the same level and he liked the feeling.

Draco had always hated how inferior he felt whenever he was next to Lucius.

"I'll humour you, Father. What should I do in your opinion?" he asked, stepping forward and squaring his shoulders.

Lucius replied, unfazed by his intimidating stance.

"Marry a pureblood and have a child with her."

Draco's face darkened instantly.

"Father," he snarled in warning.

Lucius's portrait did what his father of seven years ago would have done. Ignore him.

"A marriage of convenience would not prevent you from being with your mate. You can have both things."

His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands, but Draco didn't care.

"Stop."

Lucius waved a hand impatiently, twirling his cane with the other.

"You have to be realistic, Draco. Someone like her can't be your mate publicly."

"She already is," he replied, lifting his eyebrows defiantly.

"We still have time to remedy that," Lucius continued, clicking his tongue. "Listen to me, son. I understand that your feelings for Miss Granger are strong and I do not intend to separate you from her. She will be able to live with you in this manor, you will only have to visit your wife's bedroom a few days each month until you manage to get her pregnant and produce a legitimate heir. After that, you will be free to spend all your time with the Muggleborn."

Draco felt like he was about to lose control. Remembering the way his father was in charge of his life, ordering him what to do regardless of his own opinion since he was really young, was trying his patience.

"That's not what you told me in your letter, Father," he hissed, feeling his fingernails lengthen.

The portrait did not listen to him. Lucius had risen and was pacing around the armchair as he plotted his son's future life.

"You will attend all public events with your pureblood wife, and then when you get home you can be with your mate. It's a great idea," he added, stopping to look him in the eye.

Draco snorted when he saw the smirk on his face.

"Do you really think I'd agree to that life?" he asked, trying to contain the tremors that ran through his body. "Would you have done that to Mother?"

Lucius's expression hardened.

"Your mother was perfect for me," he said in a harsh voice.

Draco gave him a triumphant smile.

"Granger is perfect for me, too."

He doubted there could be anyone better. She had been chosen for him on the day of his birth, when she was already nine months old, and he wouldn't give up the chance to share his life with Granger for anything in the world.

"You're wrong," Lucius replied, snorting impatiently. "Her blood status is an issue, but it could be handled discreetly. No one needs to know you two are together."

Draco clenched his jaw hard. He was about to reply when he heard a gasp from down the corridor.

Turning around, he caught a glimpse of a mane of curls disappearing at full speed.

He turned to face his father with his blood burning in his veins. His huge silver wings sprouted from his back, casting shadows on the other portraits.

Several of them jumped back, startled and a little frightened at his transformation.

Lucius swept his gaze over his wings, nodding proudly.

"Impressive. Much bigger than mine."

Draco twisted his neck and his bones creaked.

"Did you see what you did?" he shouted angrily, pointing to where she had been until a few seconds ago.

One corner of Lucius' lips curved upwards as he shrugged and Draco narrowed his now silver eyes.

"You knew she was there?"

His father crossed his arms, tapping his forearm gently with his cane as if tired of his son's nonsense.

"It serves her right to know how things work in this family."

The hatred Draco felt for his father at that moment was indescribable. If the real Lucius had told him all that, he doubted he would have been able to control himself.

He probably would have finished him off, tearing his throat out with his claws.

His mother's face appeared in the corner of his mind and he gritted his teeth, knowing he would never hurt her like that.

But the Lucius before him was not real.

"You've crossed the line, and you know what I promised I would do if any of you said anything to offend her," he growled in a low voice, sweeping his gaze around the rest of the paintings to remind them of his warning.

Lucius pursed his lips.

"You wouldn't do that to your own father."

Draco let out a cruel laugh.

"You're just a stupid portrait. My father's in Azkaban and thankfully he doesn't think as you do anymore," he hissed coldly, moving to stand inches away.

Lucius stepped back, positioning himself behind the armchair as if he could use it to defend himself.

"You don't have a wand. I know it's been taken from you."

A big evil grin appeared on his lips as he saw the frightened look on his father's face. All the rage he felt exploded and a tongue of red flames engulfed his hands.

Draco lifted one of them, watching the fire lick his fingers.

"I don't need it," he mumbled, looking back up at his father, who had gone pale. "My Veela blood is very powerful, unlike yours."

"Draco," Lucius gave him a disapproving look, which turned to one of terror as he saw him move his flaming hand to one of the corners of the painting. "Draco! No!"

His thirst for vengeance drowned out his father's screams as the fire devoured the huge portrait, reducing it to ashes.

Draco sighed, closing his fists and making the flames disappear.

"Minsy?"

The elf apparated at his side, shrieking in fear.

"Master Draco! What happened?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," he murmured, glancing sideways at her. "Can you put out the fire before it spreads through the rest of the house?"

Minsy nodded and held out her hands, which were shaking. An icy wind blew out of them, extinguishing the flames instantly.

All that remained on the wall was a giant black mark where Lucius Malfoy's portrait had been for seven years.

Draco knelt down beside the elf, hugging her to help her calm down.

"I'm sorry, Minsy," he whispered, taking one of her hands and squeezing gently. "I won't do it again, but don't tell the rest of the paintings."

She nodded and Draco released her when he noticed she was feeling better. After saying goodbye he stood up, walking towards the main entrance.

By the time he reached the fireplace his body had returned to normal and his eyes were grey again.

A few seconds later he appeared inside the Grimmauld Place fireplace, surrounded by green flames.

Potter, who was sitting on the sofa, jumped at the sight of him and the biscuit he was eating ended up on the floor.

"Draco? Hermione has just arrived," he said, putting his glasses on properly.

Draco looked around.

"Where is she?"

With a flick of his wand, Potter vanished the remains of the biscuit and stood up.

"She's up in her room. I'm going to Hogsmeade this weekend to visit Ginny and I told her that you two should come with me, but she didn't give me an answer," he paused when he saw his serious face and furrowed his brow in concern. "What's wrong?"

Draco snorted through his nose.

"I'm such an idiot."

Potter gave him a smirk.

"We already knew that."

"Shut up, Potter."

He took off down the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes!" he heard Potter shout from the hall.

As he reached the second floor he felt a whirl of nerves in his stomach.

She wasn't too upset because he hadn't felt anything. But perhaps she was controlling her emotions for that purpose.

Draco stopped in front of the door to her room, taking a deep breath.

He knocked gently twice.

"Granger?"

He didn't hear an answer and he sighed, knocking again.

"Can I come in?"

Draco bit the inside of his cheek when he heard nothing and shook his head, turning the knob very slowly.

When he took a peek inside, he saw that she was sitting on the edge of the mattress, putting something red on her nails.

He sighed in relief when she didn't get angry at seeing him enter and closed the door softly, turning to the bed. Draco put a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it.

"Granger, I don't..."

"I know," she cut him off, still not looking up at him. "I know you don't think like that."

Draco advanced towards her, frowning at the strong smell in the room. The horrible scent seemed to be coming from a small bottle filled with red liquid that Granger had on her bedside table.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, confused.

She placed the small brush she had been using inside the bottle, sealing it.

"Nail polish," she muttered as she blew on her fingers.

"It smells terrible," Draco protested as he sat down next to her, wrinkling his nose. "Then why are you crying?" he questioned, scanning her face.

Her voice sounded normal but her eyes were too bright.

She sighed, looking him in the face for the first time.

"It hurts to know that your father doesn't think I'm good enough for you."

Draco tensed at her words and squared his jaw.

"That wasn't my father," he replied in a husky voice.

Granger raised her brow.

"Wasn't?" she repeated, biting her lower lip nervously. "What have you done?"

'What I should have done a long time ago.'

"Nothing," he sighed at her look of disbelief and rolled his eyes. "A Malfoy never makes empty threats," he added in an angry mutter.

She looked away, shaking her head sadly.

No, he would not allow her to keep avoiding him. Draco held her chin between his fingers, stroking her skin.

"Granger, look at me."

She obeyed and her brown eyes settled on him, roaming over every detail of his face as she swallowed.

"We were supposed to meet at five and you're never late, that's why I came looking for you."

His fingers trailed down her throat, stopping at the curve of her neck.

"You can come to the manor whenever you want and you know it, Granger," he said, tracing her collarbone and feeling her heartbeat beneath his fingertips. "What's worrying you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and still staring at her.

A shaky sigh escaped her lips and he leaned into her unconsciously as he detected something sweet on her breath.

Chocolate?

Draco frowned, feeling slightly annoyed.

Had she eaten cake without him?

"Do you remember when we first went to Diagon Alley together?"

His gaze, which had been fixed on her mouth, went back up to her eyes at her question.

'I can't fucking wait to kiss her. She's getting harder and harder to resist.'

He nodded, waiting patiently for Granger to continue talking. That day he'd discovered that she wasn't in love with anyone, which had been a great relief.

"That afternoon we talked about our romantic past, and you told me that you would have preferred your mate to be someone like Daphne."

Draco relaxed his expression, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek.

"No. I said that would have been easier," he clarified, tracing the outline of her jaw with his fingers. "Back then I didn't think being with you was an option. I couldn't imagine you having any feelings for me."

His heartbeat quickened as he saw her smile.

"I don't want to be with anyone but you," he assured her, leaning closer until their noses brushed. "You're the only woman I'm going to kiss and touch for the rest of my life, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. The decision is mine."

Her smile twisted into a small grimace.

"Sometimes I don't know if it's you talking or the bond."

It awakened his anger again. Draco concentrated on his breathing for a moment, burying his other hand in her curls and leaning down until their foreheads met.

Nothing calmed him more than her presence.

"The bond forces me to be close to you if I don't want to die," he murmured, their lips brushing. "But it doesn't affect my feelings, Granger. What I feel for you is real."

He couldn't help but smile as he felt the explosion of happiness inside her.

Had she been doubting that all this time?

Granger left a small kiss on his lips, smiling as she brushed his blond fringes away from his eyes.

"Just like what I feel for you."

Draco claimed her lips again, pouring all the feelings he had inside him into that kiss.

When they broke apart, both were breathing hard and she was slow to open her eyes again.

"Lucius no longer thinks like that portrait, or so he wrote in his letter."

He didn't like to talk about his father, but she deserved to know the truth. Maybe it would help her feel better.

"What did it say?" Granger asked curiously.

Draco smiled, tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

"That he wants me to be happy, and if that means the blood purity of the Malfoy family ends with me, he's willing to accept it."

Her deep eyes widened in surprise.

"I don't quite believe his words," Draco added, pursing his lips until they were a thin line. "But I agree. I'm not interested in your parents, or your family tree, or your past," he murmured, looking into her eyes as he cupped her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm only interested in you."

"Draco..."

Granger wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him again, and he let himself be enveloped by her warmth. He held her waist and pulled her against him, deepening the kiss and enjoying the caresses her fingers were leaving on the back of his head.

If he could spend the rest of his life kissing her and with her hands running through his hair, he would do it without hesitation.

He didn't need anything else.

"Dinner's ready!"

Draco muttered a curse as he heard the voice coming from downstairs, causing Granger to laugh.

"Fucking Potter."

She laughed again, kissing his cheek and tugging at his hand as she stood up.

"Come on," she urged, opening the door to the room and walking past him. "Thank you for coming for me."

Draco glanced at her.

"Don't run away from me again."

"I wasn't running away from you," she protested, but sighed when he squeezed her hand. "Okay. I won't do it again."

"Good."

I don't know your opinion but I think that, in the wizarding world, paintings keep the personality the person had at the time they were made.

That's why, even though seven years have passed, the Lucius in the portrait still thinks the same way as the Lucius of 1991.

And why there's a portrait of Lucius if he is still alive? My question is... why not?

The Malfoy family has enough money to buy all the portraits they want, and Lucius would love to see himself on the walls of the manor

P.S.: I was looking forward to writing the scene of Draco burning the painting haha.