Chapter 6
Draco was pensive as he regarded his charge over that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. It had been a week and a half since the new tutor had arrived, and the boy had grown more reserved with each passing day. The once boisterous and stubborn child had been transformed into a meek and compliant one. The boy was now sitting quietly, nibbling at his toast, looking for all the world like he was trying to remain unnoticed. And, if Narcissa's reports were to be believed, he had suddenly grown more independent as well. Draco had been informed by his mother the previous day that Lucius had not allowed her to assist him with baths or dressing for over a week. She had attributed the abrupt change to the child developing a sense of bashful modesty, but the Malfoy heir wasn't so sure.
Something seemed off.
The wizard had received several glowing reports about Lucius from Mr. Collins, all of which had been delivered with the same joviality that the man had expressed on his first day. But Lucius did not show the same sense of enthusiasm. In fact, when questioned about his studies, his answers were often short and evasive. Draco couldn't even get the child to definitively state what he had been studying.
Yes, something definitely seemed off.
The clock chimed, announcing the arrival of 9 am. Draco watched as the boy slowly laid down the remaining edge of his piece of toast and then rose from the table.
"Lucius," The older Malfoy said as the boy went to move toward the door. The child's eyes lifted from the floor to meet those of his guardian. Draco gave him a small smile. "I'll see you at lunchtime."
The boy gave a fleeting smile of his own, and then a little nod before continuing on his way out of the room.
His guardian watched him go, brow furrowed. The wizard turned and met his mother's gaze from where she sat on the other side of the table. She didn't say a word, but her eyes spoke volumes: Yes, I'm worried too.
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Lucius couldn't help but drag his feet as he made his way down the side-corridor to the small classroom. Mr. Collins had been his tutor for a little over a week, and during every single tutoring session the man had found a reason to cane him. Lucius had received a bit of a break over the weekend, since he was only expected to complete his studies on weekdays, but it was now Friday, and Lucius had thus experienced four canings in a row. He wasn't sure how much more his backside could take.
Part of him yearned to tell Draco or Narcissa what was happening, but another part was scared to tell. What if they were angry with him? What if they decided to punish him some more? Draco had been insistent that he behave during his tutoring sessions, and he wasn't sure that his guardian would believe him over his tutor. Thus, the part of him that was scared to tell had won out so far, and so Lucius had gone to great lengths to hide what was happening. He had been mindful of sitting down carefully (so as not to yelp and draw attention to himself), and he had refused even the house elves' help with any task that might allow someone to catch a glimpse of the welts on his backside, such as bathing. He had also been behaving extraordinarily well, both around Draco and around Mr. Collins. He didn't want to give Draco a reason to smack him when his backside was so tender, and with Mr. Collins he hoped to avoid being caned any more. It didn't seem to matter to his tutor, though, how well-behaved Lucius was. The man always found an excuse to lay into him with the brutal instrument.
It also didn't help that Mr. Collins seemed to enjoy keeping Lucius on edge. The boy never knew when a caning might come. Sometimes it happened early in the morning, and sometimes it occurred shortly before lunchtime. The man had even threatened to cane him more than once in a day if the boy did not behave. In addition, his tutor continually gave Lucius work that was much too difficult for him, which made the boy feel some combination of anxious, stupid, and frustrated most of the time he was in the man's presence.
Lucius arrived at the classroom and slipped inside. Mr. Collins was waiting on him, and the man sneered when he laid eyes on the boy.
"There you are. I thought we would start with spelling today."
The boy eyed his tutor warily as he carefully took a seat at the worktable. Lucius generally liked spelling – he was normally quite skilled at it – but every subject with Mr. Collins was like navigating a field of exploding gnomes. And the man had a glint in his eye this morning that made Lucius especially uneasy.
"Let's begin with a fun word." The man said, tapping the table with his cane. "Spell 'hospitable"
The child's eyes widened. He didn't even know the definition of that word, much less how to spell it.
"Can you tell me what that means?" he asked, almost cringing as he did so. He knew he was playing with fire here, but trying to spell the word and getting it wrong could be just as risky.
"You don't need to know the word's definition to spell it." The man snapped. "But since you asked, I will oblige. 'Hospitable' – friendly, neighborly, as in 'It was very hospitable of the Malfoy family to host my parents in the cellar cells on the night they were murdered."
Lucius gulped. This was going to go very badly. It was barely 9:15 and the man was already in a bad mood. It was usually at least an hour into the lesson before his man brought up how terrible the Malfoy family is.
"Spell it." The man demanded, glaring down at the child with a menacing stare.
"Hospitable," Lucius began, his voice trembling slightly, "H – o – s –p – i – t –I—b—e—l?"
The man rolled his eyes. "Clearly, your spelling abilities are rather limited. Let us try an easier word. Spell 'torture."
The boy's back tensed at the demand. He knew what that word meant, as it was a term that was used in several of the fairy tales that he had read, specifically the ones featuring castles and dungeons. "What? I don't want to spell that!" He said before he could stop himself.
"What's this?" Mr. Collins said, raising an eyebrow, "backchat?"
Lucius' eyes widened. "No, sir. I'm sorry," he cried immediately.
The man's eyes narrowed on the child. "Perhaps a refresher of proper classroom behavior is in order." He hissed. "Over the desk. Now."
"No! Please!" Lucius pleaded, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The next thing he knew, the tutor had hauled him to his feet and steered him around the worktable, moving him into position over the desk. The boy laid his head on the cool surface, his lip already trembling in anticipation of the coming blows.
"Perhaps six of the best will teach you some proper respect." The man said as he raised the cane.
The boy whimpered as he saw the brutal instrument rise out of the corner of his eye. He quickly rammed his eyes shut, waiting for the first terrible stroke. Being caned earlier in the session was always worse than being caned at the end, since he was then expected to sit on the fresh weals for the remainder of his time in the classroom. His entire body tensed as he waited for the cane to fall.
But the stroke never came.
"Lucius." He heard someone say his name.
Lucius opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his instructor. The man still had the cane raised, ready to strike, a hateful expression etched on his face. But he appeared to be frozen in place. The child straightened and turned. His breath caught in his throat upon spotting Draco standing in the doorway, scowling fiercely. His guardian's wand was outstretched and pointing straight at Mr. Collins.
Fury seemed to radiate off the elder Malfoy.
"Lucius," he said again – his voice clipped, sharp. "Go to your room and wait for me there." The man's eyes never left the tutor.
The boy's eyes widened at his guardian's tone, and he quickly moved to follow the instruction.
Once the child had shut the door behind him, Draco moved forward and snatched the cane out of the other man's clutches.
"Now, Mr. Collins," he snarled, "let us see what six of the best will teach you."
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Draco made his way down the upstairs hallway toward his charge's bedroom. He had stopped by his own room and collected several potion vials from his armoire. He was not sure whether they would be needed, but he wanted to have them on hand, just in case. He wasn't exactly sure how many times Mr. Collins had caned the child, but he suspected that this had not been the first time. He arrived at the boy's door and knocked softly before entering the room.
Lucius was standing at the end of the bed, wringing his hands anxiously. Upon hearing the knock, he turned toward the door.
"I'm sorry. Please don't be angry!" The child said, taking a few steps forward and resting a hand on the post of the bed closest to him.
Draco closed his eyes. The boy thought he was cross with him.
If I find out you've been misbehaving, you'll be in trouble with me, even if your tutor has already punished you. His own words from a week or so before rang in his ears.
The elder Malfoy took a few steps into the room and then crouched down to the child's level. "Come here, please." He beckoned, gesturing with his hand.
Lucius hesitantly moved forward, and when he was a meter or so away, Draco reached out and grasped the boy's forearm, pulling him close enough that he could wipe a stray tear from the child's face.
"I'm not angry with you." He said, stooping a bit to look into the boy's eyes. "Mr. Collins had no right to treat you in such a way."
At the boy's doubtful look, the elder Malfoy sighed. "What did I tell you about the cane on the day we met?"
"That you wouldn't use it." Lucius raised one small fist and swiped it across his left eye.
Draco hummed. "Precisely. And if I won't use the cane on you, then you can rest assured that I will not stand by and allow anyone else to do so either. Understood?"
The boy let out a shaky breath that he didn't realize he had been holding, and then nodded.
"Very good," Draco said, satisfied that at least that point had been clarified. The boy's pitiful expression, though, cut through the man like a dagger. "Come here," The man said softly, pulling the child gently into his arms.
Lucius soaked in the comfort, but soon hissed when his guardian's hand grazed his backside.
At the noise of discomfort, Draco pulled back and looked down at the child. "Let me see." He said as he reached forward and unfastened the boy's trousers. The command was gentle, but insistent. He eased the trousers down and helped Lucius step out of them.
"Go lie down on the bed," he ordered mildly. "On your stomach."
Lucius did as instructed, though his anxiety over the situation had started to rise. His guardian didn't seem angry, but after his recent encounter with Mr. Collins' jovial façade, the boy couldn't be sure this wasn't some sort of trick.
"Please don't," he said as Draco approached the bed.
The elder Malfoy's brow furrowed. The child was positively trembling. "Don't what? Look?"
"P-punish me." The boy said.
Draco sighed and placed a gentle hand on the boy's back. He frowned when the child gave a small jump. "I'm not going to smack you, Lucius. I just need to see what possible damage has been done."
With that he pulled down the boy's underpants as far as they needed to go, ignoring the child's small whimper as he did so. One look told him that Mr. Collins had been lucky to be able to hobble out of the Manor, rather than crawl out. The child's backside sported a number of painful-looking welts and bruises. Looking at them, Draco was actually quite surprised that Lucius had been able to hide his pain so well from him and Narcissa.
He swallowed and repositioned the child's undershorts in their rightful place. "How many times did Mr. Collins' cane you?" he asked, though he was already fairly certain he knew the answer.
"Every class." Lucius said quietly.
Draco closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten in an attempt to calm his temper. Forget crawling out. Mr. Collins should have left in pieces.
Dwelling on the tutor's repugnant actions, though, wouldn't help Lucius right now. The elder Malfoy reached inside his suit jacket pocket and pulled out the vials he had retrieved from his own room moments earlier. "Sit up, please," he instructed.
Lucius did as he was told, albeit gingerly. He eyed the potions in his guardian's hand warily. He knew from his previous experiences with such elixirs that they did not have a reputation for appetizing flavors.
The man uncorked a vial and handed it to him. "This should help with the pain."
Lucius carefully took the vial and held it up to look at it. It was full of a pinkish-purple liquid. Perhaps potions had changed since he had last had one. After all, this one looked like melted candy. He lifted the mixture and drank.
One sip confirmed that no, potions had not changed in the slightest. It may have looked like candy, but it tasted like burnt chicken.
The boy had barely managed to down the contents without gagging when his guardian handed him another vial, this one greenish-yellow.
"For the welts and bruises," Draco explained.
That one did make Lucius gag. It tasted like old dishwater. He managed to down the entire vial, though.
"And finally," his guardian said, holding out a third vial of a purple mixture, "some dreamless sleep. Just take a few sips. You only need to rest for a little while so that your body can heal."
The boy took the vial. Unsurprisingly, he had not been sleeping well, what with nightmares about people being tortured in the cellars along with his own pained backside constantly interrupting his rest. The dreamless sleep potion would be a welcome one, no matter how terrible it tasted.
Lucius hadn't taken more than two sips when his eyes began to feel heavy. He laid his head down on the bed and within mere moments had fallen into a deep sleep. Draco retrieved a blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over his charge, before sitting on the edge of the mattress next to the child. He sat there for a long while, carding one hand gently through the boy's hair and thinking about his own childhood experiences with the cane.
Not even the adult Lucius, who had sometimes been quite harsh in his discipline of his son, had raised the brutal instrument to a six-year-old Draco. No, that particular implement had been reserved for when the boy was older and less compliant than Lucius would have wished.
"This will never happen again." Draco promised quietly, before rising from the bed and making his way out of the room to find his mother.
