Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. The song lyrics in this chapter are by Simple Plan: Perfect.

Chapter 4
Dead Weight

'Home is where the heart is or at least that's how the saying goes...'

A loud knocking broke though the silence of the deserted hallway.

"Come in." Said a golden haired man from the other side of the door. Draco peered around the door and saw his father sitting at his desk writing what seemed to be a lengthy letter. A black eagle owl was perched on the edge of the desk sitting perfectly still. Almost too still, to the point where it could easily be mistaken for a statue.

"Have a seat, Draco, I will be with you in one moment, as soon as I finish writing this last letter." Lucius Malfoy said, indicated to one of the stiff firm chairs, without looking up from the letter. The ones that make you feel so uncomfortable that when you're being starred down at, you just want to squirm.

Lucius carefully folded his letter and gently placed it in the envelope. It was only then that the owl moved its leg. After having the letter tied with a black ribbon around its leg, It gracefully soared though the open window.

"One day, Draco," Lucius said chuckling to himself. "You'll soon learn that good, honest people are so easy to manipulate." Smiling, he shook his head at someone's stupidity. Draco put on a forced smile, and a small chuckle, thankful that his father couldn't see that it didn't reach his eyes. After a long sigh Lucius spoke again.

"Now let's get to the heart of this matter, The Dark Mark." He said crisply, folding his hands and placing them on his polished desk. "You know how I detest you getting it."

'Of course I know' Draco thought, nodding in response to his father. He didn't want to get it either. This was one of the only things he agreed with his father on. It was a mark of a servant, a slave really, and Draco wasn't willing to be anyone's slave.

"But," Lucius added. "If the outcome of the war isn't decided soon, Voldemort might be recruiting new Death Eaters. I will try and persuade him from recruiting you, but if he has his mind set on it then he will with or without me trying to convince him otherwise. Besides, the sooner the war is over, the sooner we can begin our destiny. The dawning of new age draws closer and with it come a new order and a rising power."His voice getting softer as his eyes began to cloud. "After all the long years we've been in hiding, our wait is over. It's ours... We deserve it" Lucius seemed to no longer be talking to his son anymore. In fact he didn't show that he was aware that Draco was in the room. He was gazing into the fire with a distant look on his face, and whispered "It belongs to us."

'That was the ultimate future.' Draco thought bitterly, turning and focusing on the fire as well. 'That was what father has always wanted me to be, but I have no future. I have a future, but it is not mine. It's a future that belongs to every Malfoy ever born: Strive for power. That's my future.'

Lucius shook his head twice, clearing his thoughts.

"But we must wait, we must be patient." Lucius said drawing Draco out of his ravine. "Once the war is over, the wizarding world will be in shambles, devastated and left in the aftermath. Leaving us free to overtake their weak empire, weather its Voldemort in power or not. It is then that we bring about our uprising, and dominate as a world power. A power so terrible people shrink in fear of it." Lucius shook his head with a smirk on his face, and softly said "People will do anything when they're afraid... The Dark Lord isn't as divine as he thinks, especially against a Malfoy. He might have Slytherin himself, but we come from a line much more ancient and powerful then that."

'Even Voldemort doesn't know what we are.' Draco chuckled at this thought. 'Some powerful lord, when your right-hand man could cast you off at his leisure.'

"When we are out in public today," Lucius said changing the subject, after a slight pause in the conversation. "I want you to be on your best behavior. A person in our position in society has duties as well as privileges– he must behave suitably as an example to those below him, for the good of wizarding kind, and this is a responsibility you have so far ignored. How are you ever going to take your proper place in society if you keep shirking your obligations this way? You're supposed to act superior, because we are superior. How do you ever expect people to respect you, if you don't act your status?"

I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright

"You're always bleating at me as if I want people bowing and scraping to me all day and looking for new ways to humiliate themselves! Well, maybe I don't! Maybe I don't want a place in your precious society, if to get it I have to stick my nose in the air, act like a prig, and turn into a slavish copy of you."

Lucius leaned across the desk and looked Draco right in the eyes. It was then that Draco knew that he had pushed his father too far.

"So that's what you think, is it?" Lucius said slowly. "Let me tell you this, son, I am no ones slave. I am not owned" He said this softly, but with a force equal to shouting. "I am doing this to help your future, our family's future. The Dark Lord does not own me. I am more powerful then he could ever be. We are more powerful then he could ever be. We are Malfoys, there are no equals to us."

Now it's just too late and
We can't go back
I'm sorry I can't be perfect

The tension in the room grew so thick it became suffocating. It came down to a staring contest between Draco and his father. A contest Draco knew he couldn't win, and so he lowered his eyes.

"Now lets go, or we'll be late once again. "Lucius said, breaking the silence. They stood up simultaneously and Draco followed his father out the door.

"I have a few potion ingredients I need to pick up." Lucius said, speaking as he walked, explaining the sudden trip to Diagon Alley. "I've been feeling rather ragged lately. I know I've been rather lax with you over the summer, and let you get by without taking it, but with you leaving for school tomorrow, you need to be in your best condition. You know the consequences of you not taking it"

Draco simply nodded in agreement, which Lucius was satisfied with. Lucius then reached within his robes and pulled out a elegant gold pocket watch, which he tapped once with his wand.

'Portus.' Lucius spoke firmly, creating the unauthorized portkey. Draco was used to this, it was the only way for a Malfoy to arrive in style, besides, once you've donated enough money, laws simply become suggestions.

Lucius handed the gold chain to Draco, and suddenly the Malfoy Manor disappeared entirely. After a familiar tug behind his navel and the sound of rushing cold air, Draco felt his feet hit the ground. They had landed in one of the hidden alleyways off of Diagon alley. Lucius then tucked the pocket watch back into his robes and strode off towards the shops, with Draco trailing behind.

The alley was packed with mainly parents and students, picking up last minute items, before the start of the new school year. As they passed by the Apothecary, Draco saw Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, looking at "Everlasting Cauldrons: Able to withstand even the toughest potions!" Draco mentally scoffed, remembering how Longbottom melted his last one during finals. He highly doubted that even those cauldrons could withstand the melting capabilities Longbottom possessed.

Draco tried to keep up with his father, but lost him in the sea of people.

Draco peered though the foggy window of the old shop. This shop seemed to be the only place in Diagon alley that wasn't infected with people. Without bothering to read the sign, Draco pushed open the door and sauntered inside.

It just happened to be a bookshop, but instead of Flursh and Blotts with its freshly pressed books, this was a used bookshop. The smell of the shop reminded him of Hogwarts' library, with its stale air and dried paper. Draco secretly hoped he didn't end up with some disease he was sure the store was harboring. Despite its dingy appearance the store had offered him what he was looking for: An escape.

He started browsing through the nearest bookshelf, and found that most of the titles he had never heard of: History of the Stars, Wizarding Laws of the 1940's, Brooms and Muggle Flying Machines.

"Junk" Draco muttered to himself, tossing one of the old books aside. A cloud of dust rose as it collided with the shelf.

After covering half the store, Draco figured he had already wasted enough time there and didn't want to stay in the store any longer then was nessassry. He turned around to head out the door when he collided with a hard object.

Draco quickly got up, with an astounding swiftness, and started brushing off all the dust that was starting to settle on him. He stood there watching the brown haired girl begin to get up, without offering her any help. Something about her seemed so familiar to Draco, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hey! Watch it, would you!" Said the girl, dusting off her pants, still with her back to him. She was on her way to ask him if he needed any help when he window checked her. Draco froze, he could recognized that voice anywhere, it was—

"Granger." He sneered. The girl whirled around.

"Malfoy" She said darkly.

"And you know the day started off so well. I guess it does take a mudblood to muddle everything up."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

"I would ask you the same question, but then I saw all the books so it makes perfect sense. Its like your own beat up library away from Hogwarts."

"Leave. Now."

"No... I don't think I will." He picked up a nearby book, and after scoffing at it, let it drop back down on the tired shelf. "You know I wouldn't be surprised if you lived here. I mean this place is filth, books and filth, you'd fit right in, wouldn't you." Hermione glared at him and clenched her hands into fists.

"Then what are you doing in a used book store anyway?" She asked, through gritted teeth.

"Nothing, just getting a good laugh"

"You like to laugh at old books?" she asked dubiously

"No," He shot back. "The fact that people would actually buy them. I mean just look at them"

"Why? What's wrong with them?" she retorted

"They're old and used." He said simply, with a somewhat appalled look at even touching it.

"So? Does that make the words inside any different?"

"But still, they're old!"

"Things don't have to be new for you to be able to appreciate them." Draco didn't know how to respond to that, so he lamely retorted: "Why am I even talking to you?"

"Well I, for one, would have to agree with you on that, Draco." Lucius Malfoy said from the doorway

"Father!" Draco said as he turned on his heel to find the voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I'm glad, to say the least, that its shocking that I am here, but as for you Draco I simply... stunned." He finished after finding the right word, failing to acknowledge that Hermione was even in the same rom. There was an awkward pause that settled like the dust on the bookshelves.

"Let us continue this conversation at home, before we catch some illness I'm sure is floating somewhere around here. This is a place for a Wealsey... or a mudblood." He added, his eyes flickering to Hermione for the first time. And with that Lucius Malfoy turned on his heal and strode out of the store, his cloak billowing behind him. Draco hesitated for a moment before following his father out the door.

It was a painfully quiet trip back to the manor. The only word spoken between the two of them, was when Lucius created the portkey, that transported them to Lucius' study.

Lucius Malfoy walked over to the stainless fireplace and set his package on the mantle. As clean as it was, it lacked the touch of warmth and life, leaving it cold and bearing. With his fathers back to him, Draco quietly took a seat on the chair in the center of the room.

"I see," Lucius spoke softly, not bothering to turn around and face his son. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Lucius always starts arguments in the middle and expects me to catch up. 'He sees what exactly?' Draco didn't even know what he was being accused of. 'Except it's always the same thing, isn't it – not being him, not being the kind of son that would be happy to be a mindless little copy of him? A model of exemplary behavior to be held up and shown to every other Wizard who has a son, like a trophy?'

Did you know you used to be my hero?
All the days you spent with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care anymore

"Conversing with Mudbloods, shopping in used stores, Malfoy's are better then that." Long, long ago Draco had learned never to expect love or even kindness from his father. They had a mutual understanding of where the lines where drawn, but that was the extent of their love.

"Im trying to understand you Draco! Why do you continue to try and tarnish our proud reputation? Why would you let yourself be seen near a mudblood, let alone speaking to . . . it?" Lucius asked him, in that tone, that same tone his father always used when he asked him a question that he really didn't want an answer for.

And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that I'm all right
And you can't change me

"You had better mend your ways or you'll be dead weight, Draco, dead weight- and this family has no use, nor need, for dead weight." And like that, the conversation was over. That was just the way things were, and custom was custom, not to be questioned or ignored. And with that Lucius stood up and walked out, leaving Draco all alone in his study. Draco turned around in his chair and looked through the opened doorway.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect ...

'If home is where the heart is, then this can't possibly be home. No, . . . this Isn't home.'