QLFC Daily Prophet Practice Round: Celebrating Good Times

Tutshill Tornados, Chaser 3

Prompt: Accomplishing a personal goal

Words: 1680

Optional prompts:

- (dialogue) "Can't you just be proud of me for once?"

- (word) respect

- (setting) Malfoy Manor


Disappointment for Draco

A/N: If Lucius were not in Azkaban

The pitter patter of the house elf's feet approaching echoed around the cavernous dining room, standing out against the usual silence of breakfasts in the Malfoy household. As usual, they stopped beside Lucius's chair and waited until he could be bothered to put down his cutlery. The post had been placed upon a silver platter as it always was, but there seemed to be a greater number of letters in today's collection.

Predictably, Lucius pretended to be above it all and feigned disinterestedness at this change, but he quickly crumbled and picked up the wad of paper. Scattered throughout were the usual business letters for Lucius and society magazines and letters for his wife, but the largest letter was addressed to none other than his son.

He cleared his throat, "Draco, I believe this belongs to you," he waved it in his hand as the boy's head whipped up from the book he had been reading, not used for conversation to be directed at him during mealtimes or to receive that much mail.

It was quite funny to watch his eyes widen towards what was quite obviously the letter containing his OWLs results. He made to rush up and collect them but Lucius stared down at him, "What have I told you about doing that? How can you respect a man who is too impatient? You need to wait until the chips fall into your hands."

Running his fingertip under the Hogwarts seal, Lucius continued to maintain eye contact while he took out his son's results before him. He broke out only to see what the letter entailed, refusing to reveal how he thought about the issue in his facial features. Snorting, he shoved the letter into the house elf's hands yet again to pass down to his son.

Draco Malfoy was not the sort of boy who was used to waiting to get what he wanted. Throughout his childhood he had been adored by all of his social circle for his status and lauded as a miracle to his mother who had found it so difficult to conceive. This only got worse when he got to Hogwarts and finally met people who did not know who he was and why he deserved their respect. Instead, he made it his mission to make sure they knew that he got exactly what he needed, exactly when he needed.

His grades were the area that Draco had had the biggest issue in regards to getting what was expected from him. Used to throwing his father's name around to all and sundry, the sudden realisation that it would do nothing to help him when it came to exam scores was a hard pill to swallow. After the discovery came in the first year that his father's name on the governors board would not sway the headmaster or any of the teachers, Draco set out to prove them wrong and that he did have something else to offer.

Over the years, his mother's calm reassurance of accepting him no matter how he achieved did nothing to stop the seeds of doubt creeping in about his harshest critic. Lucius Malfoy expected the best, and when the best wasn't achieved, there would be hell to pay.

With trembling hands, Draco opened up the letter which would be the make or break of him. There were 11 results in total because he had dropped the Muggle Studies lessons, all with varying states of passes. 4 O's in Defence, Potions, Transfiguration and Arithmancy, with 5 E's in Charms, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, Care of the Magical Creatures and Herbology. He was resigned but not surprised to see only Acceptable for Divination and History of Magic because who honestly listens in either of those classes?

Smiling at the results that he was fairly happy with, he passed the letter to the other end of the table to give to his mother. She also seemed pleased, "Oh Draco, well done! We'll need to celebrate tonight, I'll just call back Tippy to plan the dinner."

Before she could open her mouth again, Lucius's stern voice interrupted, "You will do no such thing Narcissa."

The levity of the previous second immediately disappeared and was replaced with a feeling of trepidation at the conversation that was sure to follow.

"Lucius…?"

"Why on earth would we celebrate the fact that my son, my only son, has failed at besting a Mudblood yet again."

Draco closed his eyes for a second to calm his thoughts as he cursed the day Hermione Granger had gotten her Hogwarts letter. Ever since he had come home at Christmas in his first year and got his abysmal results, that girl had become a popular talking point within Malfoy Manor. If only he hadn't brought her up in so many letters home he could have gone about his life as normal without her popping up again and again like a thorn in his side.

Opening up his eyes, he stared towards his father with the cold look that had taken him so many years to emulate. Knowing that it was best to accept fault without putting up a fight, he bowed his head, "I'm sorry father, I tried my hardest."

"If you had tried your hardest then we wouldn't be in this position now would we?" Was the swift reply, "We have given you all of the tutors and supplies that you could have dreamed of and yet here we are again." He bit out his final assessment, "No son of mine settles below a dirty, Muggleborn girl, of all people."

"We don't even know if she got better than me…" Draco attempted to intercede.

"4 O's boy. You know that only about two people in each year are awarded them, and if only 4 of them went to you, I can make an educated guess where the rest of them went."

"But, what about…"

Lucius interrupted yet again, shaking his head, "I thought we could sink no lower, but no Malfoy has been awarded an Acceptable for at least 5 generations, and now you've got two of them."

Draco scoffed, beginning to get annoyed, "Yeah, but I didn't fail any as well!"

A harsh laugh was all the reply that he received, "You're right boy, it's lucky enough or you wouldn't be allowed a place at my table. I'm glad my father isn't here to see this."

"If this is just about Granger, then at least know that I beat her muggle-loving friends."

"Oh so now you're raising your expectations? I tell you what Draco, in my day it wasn't an achievement to be better than a bunch of blood traitors and their Mudblood whores, it's just what happened."

Draco's mouth clamped shut as he glared at a flower design on their fancy french tablecloth. A tense silence filled the room as no one dared to speak, "Can't you just be proud of me for once?" He mumbled out finally, ignoring the hurt sigh from his mother.

"Do you want to know what will make me proud, son?" Lucius announced with contempt, "I'll be proud when my son starts acting like the man I have raised him to be, not this pathetic heap in front of me who allows everyone to walk all over him." Lucius stood up from the table and threw his serviette down, "I'll be proud when you finally grow a backbone and do what you need to do to achieve!"

Striding confidently out of the door, he turned to his wife, "I'm afraid there will be no dinner tonight because I will be too busy trying to sort out the mess that your son has left for us." With a final derisive snort, Lucius left the room, not caring to look back at his son to see what state that he had left him in.

Yet again the room was left in a stony silence while the occupants mulled over what had just happened. Draco still hadn't looked up from the design on the tablecloth and he was finding it difficult to breathe, though he did not exhibit this. Narcissa just looked at him whilst coming to terms with what she would have to say.

"Draco," she began softly, still not gaining a response, "Your father has been under a lot of pressure recently so I'm not sure that he fully meant all of that."

This seemed to get an adequate response, "Well he didn't need to try very hard to be convincing, did he?"

She smiled benignly as she took in the hunched form of her son "With the Dark Lord returning, he has had to put us out on the line more than usual, he is just worried for our safety."

Draco rolled his eyes at her lies, and finally raised them to meet his mother's, surprised to see that she actually seemed to believe them. "Don't you mean his own safety? When is the last time he did something without first thinking of himself and his precious reputation?"

Narcissa frowned, "Hush, that's unkind. You don't know the lengths that he would go for us." He rolled his eyes again, not believing her, and by the sound of her tone, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as well.

A more comfortable quiet fell as she reached for her letters, "I'm going to the Parkinson household today for afternoon tea, would you like to come as well so see young Pansy and exchange scores? She was always such a sweet girl."

Now used to his mother's attempts at matchmaking, Draco shook his head and stood, stretching. "Actually I thought about going for a fly, I might see if Theo and Blaise want to join me later."

"Okay dear, have fun," She mumbled as she became engrossed in an article, but before he left she managed a final quiet statement, "Whatever your father may say, just know that I am very proud of you."

Draco smiled to himself and left the room, glad that he would always have his mother on his side.


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