"Morning, Mother," Draco greeted, entering the breakfast room at Malfoy Manor.
"Good morning, darling," Narcissa answered, lowering her fork and knife beside her grapefruit bowl and daintily dabbing her mouth. "Did you sleep well?"
No, he very much did not sleep well. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, filled with worry and anxiety about today. He'd had to magically hide the bags under his eyes this morning, and it was only after a calming draught that his hands stopped shaking.
"Yes, mother," was his answer.
Draco took a seat at the inordinately large table across from his mother. Tilly, the family's house elf, popped in beside him asking what he'd prefer to have for breakfast this morning.
"Just some black coffee, please, Tilly," he confirmed. Not that coffee would help either the anxiety or the jitters, but the comforting warm smell would be a temporary relief, and the caffeine would at least perk him up a little.
With a polite "Right away, Master Draco,", Tilly disapparated. A moment later, a perfect steaming cup of black coffee appeared on the plate in front of him.
Narcissa eyed his choice of breakfast knowingly, eyebrow raised. She remained silent however, going back to cutting her grapefruit into small bite sized pieces and eating them one at a time.
"Where is Father this morning?" Draco asked. He expected to see his father here at breakfast, like normal. But the high-backed chair next to his mother's at the head of the table remained empty, its plush deep burgundy upholstery a taunting burn in his peripheral.
"He's preparing the room for you" was Narcissa's simple answer. "There's quite a lot of work, setting up the ceremony and preparing the runes. You'd do well to pay close attention today, it's important family history that you'll need to pass on one day."
Draco gave a quiet noncommittal confirmation around the edge of his cup, bitter and smooth coffee coating his tongue and soothing his nerves slightly as it slid down his throat. Feeling the liquid pooling in his stomach, mixing with the calming draught, Draco decided that was quite enough of that for the time being and put his cup back down. The smell, so alluring and comforting a moment before, was now almost nauseating.
"Well, better get this started so it can be over with," Draco announced, standing up from the table abruptly without a proper excusal. Since he was standing directly across from his mother he did not miss the slight narrowing of her eyebrows at his poor manners. He stepped back, pushed in his chair ('how is that for manners, mother?'), and started walking stiffly towards the door.
"Draco," Narcissa said. Her voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, as if trying to persuade him to turn around and talk to her. He paused, hand resting on the doorknob, but made no move to turn around.
"I know there are a lot of things about the Malfoy family that are, well, less than desirable. The history and affinity to dark magic being something I'd like to fully leave in the past."
Draco snorted indelicately. Ignoring him, Narcissa continued. "There are many rituals I've read in some of the older Malfoy histories that neither your Father or I have any intention of ever passing on. But this one is different. It's…. light. It's warm, and comforting, and gives you the opportunity for more joy in your life than you can ever imagine. Please, just give it a chance. You'll see."
Waiting a moment to make sure his mother was finished, Draco uttered a hollow "Thank you, Mother, I'll consider that." He had no intention to consider anything. He only wanted to get this stupid ritual over with so he could continue on with his life, pretending this entire day never happened, and drinking more alcohol than was advisable to help him forget.
He opened the door and started down the hallway towards his father's office. He knocked once briskly when he arrived at the door, almost hoping that his father wouldn't answer and that this whole thing was just a silly joke, that Narcissa would pop out from behind the adjacent planter and shout "Fooled you!" while Lucius questioned how Draco could ever be so gullible. A very clear, calm and proper "Come in, Draco," answered his knock, and he sighed softly before squaring his shoulders and opening the door.
Lucius was sitting at his desk, reviewing a book so old it looked like it was held together only by hope and magic. It probably was, Draco thought. There were a few vials of differently coloured liquids beside his desk; one dark green liquid that was smoking softly, and a more vibrant thick purple concoction that seemed to bubble even though it wasn't over any heat. A third pale blue vial caught his eye; it seemed the least intimidating of all the options. He hoped he wasn't going to have to drink any of these, though he was sure he must.
"No need to worry about those just yet," Lucius said, setting his book down carefully on his desk and reaching below to pull out a bottle of brandy from one of the cupboards. "All in due time." He reached down a second time and came up with two crystal glasses. Draco winced at the clinking sound they made, and realised that on top of feeling tired and anxious he now also had a headache. This day just kept getting better.
Lucius poured two fingers of amber liquid into each of the glasses and handed one to Draco, who accepted. If he was planning to get sloshed right after this whole ordeal anyway, he might as well get started. Lucius picked up his own glass and lifted it to Draco before taking a sip. Draco followed suit, though in lieu of lifting his glass in reciprocation, he used the time to take an extra sip or two of brandy instead.
"Draco," Lucius said, his tone turning serious. "I know this is overwhelming right now, but-"
"If this is where you're going to start telling me things about you and mother that I REALLY don't need to know, I'll ask you to stop just there." Draco didn't often interrupt his father when he spoke, but the sips of brandy on an empty stomach were already doing wonders at mimicking confidence.
Lucius had softened in the years since the war. The embarrassment of house arrest and being forced to examine one's previous actions in the light of day could do that to a man. But even a softer Lucius was still intimidating at best, and Draco had never seemed to outgrow the fear this man could instill with the right look. It seemed Lucius was doing everything in his power to prevent such a look now.
"I realise I have been more open with you since… past events, Draco, but rest assured there are elements of my relationship with your mother that I shall never divulge."
Draco made a retching sound that was only slightly embellished. At the age of 25 Draco knew full well exactly how he came to be, but having that voiced aloud was a line he didn't think he'd ever be able to cross.
Lucius continued, completely unbothered by his son's discomfort. "What I was going to say was that this is completely normal. I recall feeling similarly when I was your age. It likely would have been easier had we been able to do this a few years ago as per tradition, however circumstances being as they were I would not have been able to prepare the potions and runes properly." He was, of course, referencing his Ministry-imposed restrictions from doing magic that only recently lifted. To anyone else Lucius' expression seemed unchanged, but Draco could see a slight change in his eyes that indicated his father did feel some guilt for the effects his part in the war had had on his family.
Lucius picked up his book once more with one hand and held his brandy in the other. "I'd like to go over this passage once more, and then we'll make our way to your wing."
Unsure whether he should feel happy that he didn't have to do anything yet, or upset that it meant the whole ordeal was going to drag on even longer, Draco picked up his glass and took another healthy swig, feeling the warmth creep down his throat in a similar but entirely different way than the coffee felt before. Two more sips and he'd no longer be able to pretend sobriety to anyone.
He thought back on what he knew about this morning's "ritual" already from his parents. He knew this was an ancient Malfoy tradition, and that every Malfoy patriarch for the past seven generations had gone through the same event. Without it, he would lose his rights to the Malfoy name and all of the protective and ancient magic tied into it. His mother told him it was created by Nobilius Malfoy, with the assistance of one of the top runic wizards at the time. Nobilius was upset that all of his love interests had rejected him, and tired of seeing witches he favoured paired off with other wizards, he developed a ritual that would reveal the identity of his true amorous match.
The first iterations of this ritual produced a door leading to a magical room, housing only a single mirror that showed a foggy vision of your "match". This person was, according to the magic, your match in every sense of the word. They would understand you for who you were, have the same core values, be so in tune with you that they could essentially hear your thought processes and sense your moods. It also ensured compatibility in more carnal ways, but as already discussed Draco had zero interest in contemplating that point any further.
Nobilius had some difficulty finding his match using the foggy mirror vision, however he was eventually able to find someone who appeared to physically match the image, down to the blurry red flower in her hair (a rose, as it were), and the light lilac colour of her dress robes. Nobilius and Carmella were married within weeks of meeting and lived their lives together happily, exploring and adding to the knowledge of dark magic that the family prided itself on so thoroughly at that time.
Over the generations, refinements were made to the spell to make it a little easier for the Malfoy men to find their partners. Draco wasn't sure what to expect of this now, as the manifestation happened a little differently each time. His mother managed to tell him that his Father was surrounded by a sea of flowers that smelled exactly like her favourite perfume before Draco covered his ears and walked out of the room. Others before had a desk with papers filled with the person's handwriting, a photo album filled with photos of the partner and their family, or even filled with some of their match's favourite activities. All clues to help you find out who that perfect person might be, delivered in the least straightforward way Draco could imagine.
All Draco knew was that there was not one witch he had ever met in his life that he'd like to be tied down with, and he couldn't imagine some runes and potions would be able to produce such a person short of creating a whole new witch. The idea of being forced to settle with someone he didn't even know, especially at such a young age, made his stomach turn.
Because there was a catch to all this magic, as there often is with family runes. Once you knew the identity of your partner, no other witch or wizard would ever measure up to them. The histories said, as his father continued to remind him, that if he chose to not pursue and marry this partner, he would progressively feel less and less towards other witches. It was nothing drastic, he wasn't going to die or become diseased or anything so barbaric. But other witches would lose their appeal for him. The thought of taking another witch to bed would become nauseating. Using his own hand to fulfil any baser urges would always be unfulfilling. And he would forever be plagued by dreams of his partner. These side effects were, apparently, designed by a lunatic in an attempt to encourage the Malfoys to pair up with their partner as quickly as possible to make sure their partner didn't get married off to someone else.
It was unsurprising that the Malfoy family relied on negative reinforcement rather than positive reinforcement to achieve their desired outcomes.
"Draco, did you hear me?" His father's question interrupted his thoughts. Draco realised he was holding a long empty glass in his hand, and that his father had apparently been talking to him, Lucius' book was laid back down on his desk beside his empty glass.
"Yes, Father" Draco lied. Obviously the brandy's courage was still in effect.
"Then let's go."
Both Malfoy men stood up from their respective chairs. Draco watched as Lucius stoppered the vials and placed them carefully inside his robe pockets. Draco also noted that he left the book on the table.
"You don't need the book?" Draco asked. He had thought the runes would be so complicated that they'd need to use it for reference.
"No," Lucius confirmed, already making his way to the door and opening it. "The runes themselves are simple. It is the pairing with the potions and the order they are written that is most important. Nobilus intentionally worked to make the process as easy as possible while still being difficult for anyone else to develop. He wanted to ensure the highest rate of success, and the ability to memorise the formula in the event that the book is lost."
Silence enveloped them. There seemed to be no more reason to talk until they arrived.
Both wizards left Lucius' study and made their way to Draco's quarters. His parents' rooms were mostly on the west wing of the house, which is where he stayed as a child. Now that he was an adult, he kept to the east wing. The Manor was so large that being in a separate wing was almost like being in a separate house, with the exception of shared meals. There were even ways Draco could adjust the wards to let him know if anyone entered his wing, or to even keep his parents out entirely without permission.
Lucius stopped beside the door to Draco's room and pulled out the dark green potion, handing it to Draco. "Drink this," he instructed unnecessarily.
Draco peered more closely at the vial. He could still see the tendrils of light grey smoke swirling around on top of the dark green liquid. Silver and green, he thought, bemused. How fitting.
He unstoppered the vial and gave it one last unnerving glance before tilting back the contents. Better to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Unlike his other two beverages this morning, this one was cool. It felt thick even though visually it appeared quite thin. Oddly no traces of it were left behind in the vial; it looked and smelled completely clean. He thought he felt a tickling of smoke rising up his throat into his nostrils, but when he coughed nothing came out.
While Draco was drinking the vial, Lucius was carving the ancient rune for "home" into the floor in front of his room. The rune glowed golden when Lucius was done, and some of that golden light lifted up into the air and formed a small ball. The ball moved softly back and forth in a mesmerising pattern, up and down, left and right. It then moved through Draco's body seemingly in the exact place he could feel the cool liquid pooling in his stomach, continuing on down the hallway for only three or four feet before stopping. It dove back into the floor in front of this new spot, and an exact replica of the rune for "home" now appeared on the floor.
Draco looked at his father's face for any sign of whether this was expected or not. Lucius was his normal stoic self, and Draco learned nothing about the trajectory of the ritual so far. He followed his father as he started walking towards the second, duplicated rune.
Lucius handed the second vial to Draco and started inscribing more runes, this time onto the wall right in front of where the glowing light was still shining. He didn't provide instruction this time, but Draco immediately imbibed the liquid as soon as Lucius' hand was free of the vial. He didn't even spend time inspecting it, though it was hard to miss that this was the bubbling red potion.
Draco immediately felt a hot, searing sensation in his throat and stomach. His body felt effervescent, like he could feel the small pops of bubbles bursting as the liquid made its way down. It was beyond uncomfortable, bordering on painful, but he managed to keep it all down through sheer force of will.
When he reopened his eyes (he had closed them when he was fighting the liquid to stay down), he saw the ancient runes for "love", "acceptance", "lust" (here Draco cringed), and above the others and larger, the rune for "partner".
This time the runes glowed bright white. The white light seemed to crawl across the wall, the letters breaking up into small pieces, leaving the runes still darkly etched into the wall. The small pieces of light - almost like small blocks - arranged themselves into a rectangle roughly the size of a person, though a bit shorter than Draco. They formed perfect lines, connecting at right angles in the corners, and flashed intensely once more before slowly sliding their way back towards the runes and settling back in the dark crevices carved by his father. There was a crack in the wall where the light had been, perfectly rectangular.
Checking his father's face again, Draco was once again left with nothing. He supposed that was better than a negative reaction.
Lucius carefully removed the last potion from his robes and held it in his hand, seemingly more hesitant and careful than the others. It was as if this potion was the most important one of all of them. He unstoppered it and dropped three glistening blue drops onto his index finger. The liquid pooled on top of his finger instead of running down the sides and dripping onto the floor, like a water meniscus.
Without speaking, his father slowly lifted his finger towards Draco's face. Draco flinched slightly, as any wizard might when someone's hands are coming so close to their face. His father expected this, and waited for the reaction to subside before continuing on his trajectory towards Draco's forehead.
Draco could feel his father's finger moving around tracing another rune on his forehead, but the nervous feedback on his skin wasn't sensitive enough to provide the resolution needed to figure out which rune it was. His father must have figured out what he was doing because, without speaking, he mouthed the word 'wisdom' to Draco.
Lucius passed the still mostly full vial to Draco, and Draco once again tipped the contents into his mouth without much thought. He couldn't feel this liquid at all. It's as if it turned to air as soon as it passed his lips. He did however feel a warm glow on his forehead where the rune was written. This warm feeling appeared again in his right hand, and when Draco looked down he saw a faint blue glow, the same colour as the potion. It appeared in the middle of his palm, and seemed to provide buoyancy for his hand to lift up in front of him. He felt a slight pull from the warmth, urging him closer to the rectangle on the wall.
After a few seconds, Draco's hand made contact with the wall, just inside the rectangle about a third of the way up the wall. Draco had to crouch a little to reach it comfortably. As soon as his glowing palm pressed against the wall, another flash of light (this time blue) appeared, and he felt a hard handle materialise in his hand.
Surprised, Draco immediately let go of the handle and took a step back. All the runes had disappeared - there was no more glowing light, no etched markings in the floor or the walls. It's as if there had never been a ritual here at all.
Except right in front of him, where the cracked rectangle and the glowing runes were previously, was a door. A plain door, camouflaging with the wall, but with a distinct golden handle sticking out.
There was no need to look towards his father for confirmation this time. Draco knew that the appearance of a door meant that the ritual had worked. Inside, he would find clues to who his partner would be. The person who supposedly would give him all the things the runes said and more. He stood still, not wanting to go in, trying to relish in the last few moments of bachelorhood he could ever see himself having again. Hell, maybe he'd just walk away and come back to open the door on another day. Maybe he'd just -
"Draco."
Lucius' voice was soft, but commanding. It brought Draco's thoughts back in line, and he began to resolve himself to open the door. Lucius cleared his throat when Draco still hadn't moved after a few seconds.
"Fuck," he muttered, grabbing the handle and forcefully yanking it down to open the door. As expected, there was now a room behind it.
Unexpectedly, the room was completely empty.