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Counsel

The counselling session with Dumbledore had gone so well, Draco had been asked to return the following day, and the day after that. For one hour every evening he would forget his mission, forget his troubles, and spill his emotions to Dumbledore, who listened more than his father ever would have. He told Dumbledore of his constant let downs, how Lucius was never there for him, how he had been moulded in his fathers image, instead of being himself. Before he knew it it was Thursday, and he was once again in Dumbledore's office, confiding in his teacher...whilst at the same time plotting his murder. The first half an hour had gone smoothly.

"He hit you?" Dumbledore asked.

"No…well…the occasional smack across the face…which most of the time I deserved…but he never struck me for no reason!" Draco was defending his father's actions now. Dumbledore looked at him suspiciously, and then glanced at his pensieve.

Draco noticed this eye movement and his heart gave a jolt. "You have more…don't you? More memories of my father!" Draco's eyes were pleading. Dumbledore looked grave.

"I don't think I should." He didn't look into Malfoy's eyes, he couldn't…the boy was clearly a devoted son, not at all how Dumbledore had expected. He thought Draco, like Lucius was living in constant fear of his father's wrath. It seemed now, that fear was a large part of their relationship, but not all...Draco was scared of something else...something deeper. "You will not like what you see."

"Please Headmaster!" Draco begged. "I just…" He struggled to say it. "…miss him."

He'd never felt so alone. The words struck him like an arrow. He missed his father, despite the fact he hated him at times, he missed having him around. He didn't have anyone to look up to anymore, he didn't have anyone to praise him.

Dumbledore sighed and paused for thought. "Alright…but when I say we finish, we finish…don't fight it...understood?" He glared at Malfoy, who nodded furiously.

The old wizard waved a wand over the pensieve, then stirred it with the tip. Draco watched as the watery images of Dumbledore's office appeared in the bowl, then he leant into it, plunging his face into the liquid memories.

The watery sensation surrounded him, and he turned to see the younger Dumbledore writing at his desk. The older one stood by his side, then took him to the side of the room. "Over here." He motioned to Draco, his face still looking uncomfortable and grave. "This was the first day back after Christmas…seventh year."

The door to the office opened with a huge bang. Dumbledore looked up from his desk in surprise to see Professor Slughorn, (a younger Professor Slughorn) enter, dragging a certain blonde haired teenager by his pullover. Lucius looked ashamed of himself, and stared at the floor, his face obscured by his long white hair, that hung lifelessly down to his elbows. Draco curiously went to get a closer look, but the old wizard held him fast.

"Professor Slughorn…Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore rose from his desk and approached them, his face etched in puzzlement and concern.

Slughorn didn't look angry, he looked desperate. "LOOK AT THIS!" he snarled, and lifted Lucius' face into view.

Draco almost yelped. Lucius was shaking from nerves as he stared at his headmaster. A huge black bruise covered his cheekbone, and another on his lower jaw. Some smaller brown ones and grazes dotted his forehead and cheeks. He also had a black eye, and a split lip, which had scabbed over.

The young Dumbledore lifted his hand and moved some of Lucius' hair out of his eyes. He had worn it down deliberately in a vague attempt to hide his wounds. The teenager just looked defiant and stared at the ceiling, not daring to look the headmaster in the eye.

"Lucius? Are you alright?" Dumbledore said softly. Lucius merely sneered and clenched his teeth, looking at Slughorn with malice.

"Of course he's not alright!" Slughorn stammered. "Look at him!"

"I can see Professor Slughorn!" Dumbledore glared at the potions master over his half-moon spectacles. "I would like to hear what Lucius has to say."

Slughorn went quiet, but shifted on his feet, as if trying to contain his anger.

"I'm fine professor." Lucius said darkly. He barely moved his lips, indicating he was in considerable pain.

"What happened Lucius?" Dumbledore asked.

Lucius glared at Slughorn. "Fell off my broom at home sir!"

A slight shake in his voice was enough to convince Dumbledore that this was not the case. Draco was shaking too. The bruises were horrific.

Slughorn gave a scoff. "Quidditch Captain indeed…I've seen him play, he can fly a broom with no hands and still stay in the air!"

"I FELL OFF MY BROOM SIR!" Lucius hissed through his teeth, his face looking very enraged.

"Lucius calm yourself!" Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, and Lucius winced painfully.

Slughorn's eyes went even more manic. "You see? SEE? More 'accidents' no doubt!"

"Professor Slughorn, could you please leave my office." Dumbledore asked calmly. Slughorn was considered a very cheery fellow, proud of his Slytherins. Draco had never seen him so enraged, and his father was to blame… no wonder Slughorn had ignored Draco half the time.

The potions professor nodded his head in disbelief, he turned to the headmaster and waved his finger threateningly. "This has to stop! Dumbledore! Either you stop it, or the ministry will!" Slughorn charged out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Lucius looked at the floor.

"Please sit." Dumbledore returned to his desk.

The old Dumbledore looked down at Draco with some surprise…he was taking it rather well. The boy was clearly stunned by the extent of his father's injuries, but luckily he wasn't too distressed.

"You didn't fall off your broom did you?" Dumbledore said calmly, pouring out a cup of tea.

Lucius didn't move, didn't say a word. He sulked silently and glared at the phoenix that slept next to Dumbledore's desk.

"Lucius?"

The boy's attention was brought back. "It doesn't matter…what happens in the privacy of my own home is nothing to do with you!" he snapped.

"Bite that tongue young Master." Dumbledore rumbled. Draco almost jumped. Lucius didn't flinch. He just looked away again.

Dumbledore softened. "You can tell me in full confidence...I promise." He nodded.

"What did you do."

Lucius clenched and unclenched his fists. Hesitant to say anything. His face became a grimace. "I told him I hated him…" He paused.

Draco felt a deep stab of pain. He had thought the same of his own father, he had wanted to shout back at him so many times, tell him how disappointed he was with him. Lucius had thought the exact same thing, and his father must have been at least ten times worse. Draco had not heard much of Abraxas Malfoy. His father never spoke openly about him, and now Draco knew why.

Lucius stood up, and played with the ring on his finger.

"I cursed him Professor…" He swallowed, then turned to face Dumbledore. "I mean 'really' cursed him…" The grimace had returned. His eyes were slits. "…and I enjoyed it!" He sneered.

All ounces of Sympathy faded from Draco. He shuddered as he glared at his father's bruised face. There was deep loathing etched into his skin, and he looked almost like the Dark Lord himself.

"I see…" the young Dumbledore looked surprised, and waited for Lucius to explain himself.

Lucius paced the room, still fumbling with his ring. "I…I don't know how it happened, one minute he was there…telling me how disappointed he was, how I was just like my mother, and didn't deserve the name he gave me, then it just…slipped out!" He looked hurt, like he regretted what he said.

"I told him I hated him…told him I wish he were dead…then I'd be rid of his constant lecturing…degrading…vicious…bastard!" He snarled.

"Language please." Dumbledore said coldly.

"Sorry sir." Lucius sat back down, and cradled his sore head in his hands. "He hit me…he hit me again and again…you should have seen his face!" He started to tear.

Draco had too. The older Dumbledore gripped his shoulder, thinking it was enough. "I'm okay!" He sniffed and wiped them away. "No really, I'm good!"

"…I grabbed my wand and I cursed him professor!" Lucius sobbed. "When he fell down…I…I stood over him and I cursed him again…and again…I was so angry!" He trembled.

"What happened next Lucius?"

"When I saw what I'd done…what could I do? …I ran…"

"C'mon Draco…that's enough."

"No!"

"…he…he cursed me…I fell down…couldn't move…then he kicked me…I don't remember anything else…"

"Yes!" Dumbledore grabbed Draco by the shoulders and wrenched Draco from the pensieve.

"No!" Draco roared, but accidentally knocked over the bowl, spilling its contents all over the desk.

Dumbledore roughly shoved him onto the chair. "Calm down!" He grabbed Draco's head. Draco grimaced and then relaxed, it was too much for him. He burst into a fit of sobs.

"I warned you…you wouldn't like what you see." Dumbledore said gently, releasing the boy's face and patting him on the back. "A pensieve is a dangerous thing…you could find yourself getting lost in someone else's memories, and never wanting to leave, it's only useful in small doses Draco. Understand?"

The boy sniffed and calmed down. "I never knew …he never told me anything about his childhood…he always said he never looked to the past…only the future."

"He never told me much either…" Dumbledore smiled weakly. "He bottled up like you…wouldn't speak to anyone…not even his closest friends."

"You're afraid I'll end up like him!" Draco glared at Dumbledore through tear soaked eyes. "It's too late for that…I am like him."

"No you aren't…Lucius was constantly living in fear…there is nothing to be afraid of…"

"Yes there is professor…there is…" Draco looked distant.

"Then tell me what it is!" Dumbledore leaned forward. "We can fight it."

"The hour is over Professor." Draco sneered, and got up to leave..

"Draco…"

"Goodbye Professor." Malfoy didn't even turn around He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the door.

'Goodbye Professor… for tomorrow night…only one of us can live.'

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