"Talking"
"Parseltounge"
Chapter 8: Draco and Birthdays
Lucius Malfoy tiredly collapsed into his chair before the fire with a sigh. It had been a long day at work, manipulating the idiots at the Ministry.
"Hello Lucius," whispered a voice in the shadows.
Immediately Lucius was on his feet, his wand pointing straight at the voice. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" He demanded, his voice calm, steady, and deadly cold.
"Relax Luc. I simply came to talk." Answered the voice, completely unruffled or in anyway affected by the wand in his face. Then the voice moved so his features, and especially his white blonde hair, were visible in the dim light. At Lucius gasp of recognition, the man asked, "Ah so you do recognize me. How are you little brother?" amusement was quite clear in his tone.
For the second time that night, Lucius collapsed into his chair. This time it was in shock and not a little apprehension. "What do you want?" he asked resignedly.
"Now is that anyway to greet a long lost brother? And your elder at that? It does not matter though; I am not here to take over your life or the affairs of the Malfoy family. Nor do I have a son, I have every intention of allowing my nephew to receive the inheritance."
At these announcements, Lucius relaxed slightly, the majority of his fears relieved. "Then why are you here? Am I correct in assuming that this in not a social visit?"
"You are correct. I have come for my nephew, and heir."
"Draco? What would you want with him?" asked Lucius suspiciously.
"I wish to give him special advanced training. That is all you need to know."
"What will I tell people? What about Hogwarts? How long will he be gone?" Queried Lucius as a thousand more questions ran through his mind. He bit back any more questions though as his brother's face darkened angrily.
"You may tell people what every you wish." The elder Malfoy coldly replied. "As for how long he'll be gone, it will be a few years. He will be home in time to go to Hogwarts. Oh, and don't worry, he will be able to take over as the head of our family when the time comes. Now call him down."
Lucius summoned a houself and sent it to fetch Draco. Then the two elder Malfoys sat down and Lucius gave an accounting of the Malfoy fortune to his older brother. After about five minutes, Draco entered his father's study, followed closely by his godfather, Severus Snape.
The Malfoys stood to receive Draco and Severus. The new arrivals stopped short in the door looking at Damien. It was Severus who recognized him first.
"Lord Damien." The respect was quite evident in the potions master's voice.
"Ah, Severus. How are you? How's the old fool?" The later question was mocking with only a hint of the curiosity felt by the speaker, while the former was spoken with simple politeness, but overall, his tone was underlined with respect.
"As good as I can be, thank you for asking though. The old man? He's as meddling as ever." The respect was still quite evident, but there was also a touch of familiarity.
Damien accepted the explanation with a respectful nod, and then turned to Draco, "Young Draconius, I am your uncle and I have come to give you an opportunity to excel in the family trade." His words were accompanied by a smirk, which did nothing to ease Draco's nervousness. "Now, go and get your broom, your training wand, and any other personal item you might want to take with you. YOU must be able to carry it on your own though."
Draco, who had yet to speak a word, looked to his father for direction. At his father's nod, Draco turned back to his newfound uncle and then with a simple "Yes sir" left the study and went to fetch the requested item.
When he returned ten minutes later his uncle handed him a portkey and before he had time to register what was happening, or say his farewells, he had left the only place he had ever called home and reappeared in an unfamiliar hall. Moments later his uncle appeared and simply ordered him to follow closely. Years of training from his father, and having witnessed the respect given to this man by both his father and godfather, the young boy quietly did as he was told.
July 31, 1988
Alexander woke up at dawn, wondering why he wasn't awakened before. Then it hit him...he ran to the dining room and sure enough, as soon as he opened the door...
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday dear Alex,
Happy Birthday to you!
All the Elite burst into song the minute he entered the room. Alex's smile grew wider as shouts of "Happy Birthday Alex" and "Happy 8th Birthday" were accompanied by pats on the back as he crossed to the table. Once everyone was at the table and sitting down, and Alex had greeted his father's portrait, the food appeared. Then Alex made a discovery, turning to Courtney, he asked as innocently as possible, "Courtney, where's Damien?"
"Damien? He left last night and no one has seen him come back yet." She replied, not quite thinking about the question, but more about the food that had just appeared.
"OK. Then I should be able to do...this!" And on that proclamation, he sent a large spoon full of eggs down the table.
The unfortunate Elite who had been hit was startled for a second before he realized what had happened and tried to retaliate. Unfortunately he missed, and hit Courtney instead. After wiping the biscuit gravy from her eyes she looked at the offending person, then at the all too innocent just 8-year old next to her and declared, "FOOD FIGHT!"
The affect of those two words was instantaneous. Suddenly there was food and gravy flying everywhere. The houselves, who had come to accept this part of their life started to send up pie tins of whipped cream and other quite messy, easily thrown, foods which had quite satisfying results when they hit another person. Fairly quickly, the only thing not covered was the picture of Lord Voldemort hanging on the wall. The painting had long since had a repelling charm placed on it so it wasn't dirtied in the fights.
Then, the doors flew open! Everyone froze mid-motion and turned towards the head of the Elite. Everyone except Alex that is who simply threw a cream pie at him. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depends on your point-of-view), Damien had anticipated this move by his young master and simply sidestepped the messy missile, allowing it to hit the person standing directly behind him.
"Really now my prince, is it necessary to throw food at your guests?" Asked the amused Damien.
Alex had the grace to look ashamed for about five seconds, before his curiosity got the better of him. "Who is he? Why is he here? And where have you been?" The questions were fired in a rapid succession of excited chatter, causing many to laugh at the antics of the young dark lord who couldn't care less at that moment about his 'responsibilities' and proper manners.
Still chuckling at his young charge Damien answered all the questions. "This is my nephew, he is here to train to take my place at your side, and to maybe one day serve as your prince. I have been to fetch him and check on my family. Happy Birthday, my prince."
"Thanks Damien, ahh presents! Everyone to my living room! PRESENTS!" With that exclamation Alex tore threw one of the doors and ran threw it. The rest of the Elite soon followed, Damien and Draco bringing up the rear. As soon as everyone was settled in, Alex tore into his presents.
Being the son of the Dark Lord had only one real problem, presents. Alex had anything and everything that was currently found in the wizarding world when it came to books and clothes so the Elite had to be a little more creative. Alex received almost the same presents every year, he almost always knew what to expect.
His pile of gifts always included the newest in muggle technology and entertainment, candy (from both worlds), and also the newest inventions of the wizarding world, especially if it was fun and/or entertaining. Sometimes though, he was surprised, sometimes he received something educational. YUCK! Or something rare and priceless, especially the odd weapon. Alex had three main collections that always increased by at least one item on his birthday or at Christmas. These were of wooden models, especially old ships, beautiful chess sets, and knives/swords/daggers (oh what the heck, sharp pointy objects!). All of which were beautiful to look at and deadly if used.
Once all the presents were opened, thanks given, and cake eaten, it was time for the Quidditch match. First though, before they could play, Damien introduced everyone to Draco. He also showed Draco where he would be living for the next couple of years or so. Once that was done, and Draco appeared to at least have accepted where he was, and what would be happening in the near future, everyone grabbed their brooms and headed out to the pitch.