Chapter 48

Draco was delighted to learn that Ravenclaw's were not going to be in the first Quidditch game of the year. Though he was as eager as any of the new players to get out on to the field and prove his worth, he knew that he wanted a bit of time to get into the team and to get to know it as well. The longer they had to train then the better they were going to be.

The first game of that year just happened to be the so called 'big game'; Gryffindor vs Slytherin. What with the rivalry between the two houses it was always hotly anticipated, not just by them but by the entire school.

Yet with no friends to speak of in Gryffindor now as it seemed, Draco felt that he could put his weight behind the Slytherin. Vincent and Greg had got on to the team and he was going to support them of course – as well as his uncle, who would hex him into the next week if he were to miss it, he thought with a shake of his head but a playful smile too.

In the time that he had when he was not training through, he was focused on his studies more than anything else. Yet the diary he had picked up from Ginny was also a distraction he found, more so as time went on. It was like an addiction.

The way that Tom Riddle wrote back to him it was as if he really did understand what Draco was going through. It seemed he had not had a great relationship with his father either and he knew how it felt to be by yourself.

The other distraction was one that all of the students were dealing with – Halloween. He hoped it was not going to be as eventful as it had been the year before. Though he had not been at the heart of the drama he could recall the panic that had gone through the castle when they heard the troll was in the dungeon as if it had been the day before.

For some reason the pre- Halloween week went slowly - every single day seemed to drag. He could only guess that it was due to the fact that he was so looking forward to it.

The night before the Halloween feast though, Draco sat up writing to Tom.

'Have you wrote to your father today?'

Maybe that was what he so liked about the diary. It was concerned for him and it remembered what had been bothering him. It meant that rather than go to Severus every time he felt that he was done he had a real output for his loneliness.

'No. I am going to write to him in the morning though.'

It had been days since he had touched base at home and he knew that if he did not write back soon then he was in for a scolding. Or he would have been the year before.

'How come? It occurs to me that you are always the one who write to him first'

And he could not lie to himself; what Tom said had made him stop and think. Why was it always him? There had only been a handful of times before in that term when his father had written to him of his own accord.

Why was that?

But to his surprise he found that there were some days when it hurt less than others, his father's continued silence. It was as if he was building up an immune system to it.

As he went into the Halloween feast, he tried to shake those kinds of thoughts off. He wanted to enjoy himself. Yet as he reached the Ravenclaw table his head begun to ache. He had never been one to suffer from headaches but he knew as soon as it hit that this was more than a headache.

He felt claustrophobic. He had to get out.

"Are you ok?" Antony said to him from his side.

Alerted to the fact that something was up many looked at him; concern was written all over her face.

"You do look pale Draco."

He nodded. Then something was wrong – really wrong. He was a Malfoy. If he looked more noticeably pale then normal...

"I think I am going to go up to the dorm room." As much as he had been enjoying the food since he had been back he did not think he could eat anything that evening.

"Do you want me to take you back up to the common room?" said Mandy.

He shook his head. With every move he took his head seemed to ache more and more. He wanted to be on his own and he wanted to go to sleep but he had the feeling that his body was not his own.

He turned and run out of the hall, clutching his head in his hands.

He had to go to the diary, because the image he had of Tom was going to his head and it was mad but he felt as if Tom was the one who was making him feel the way that he did. It was not logical, it was not right, made no sense...

He felt so odd and confused...

"Dad..."

-

Draco woke up in the Halls. He did not know how he got there, why he was there or what he had done.

But there was an image in his head of Mrs Norris. Mrs Norris... the cat of the caretaker. He barely even noticed her most days but that day he could just not stop that image from floating in to his head.

Something was up. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and he had done it.

He had to get back to the common room.

Running up through the halls he was back in his room before he had seen anything or anyone. But he knew something was ...

Tom what is going on?

What do you mean Draco?

What just happened to me! I know that you know!

And how would I possibly know a thing like that.

The first thing he knew of how upset he was when he saw a tear hit the page. He needed to talk to someone.

And who the hell would care?

Draco looked at the diary in stunned disbelief. How did he know?

You are not going to tell anyone, do you understand me Draco?

He shook his head. He did not want to read this but nor could he take his eyes away from it. He did not understand the hold what the book had on him but he knew he had been right when he had thought to go to Sev - he should have.

It was too late for that now.

What had his dad done when he had given the book to Ginny? Had he wanted her to go through this?

Part of him was glad he had saved her from it, and yet another cowardly part of Draco wished that he had not picked up the diary. That she was the one who was under its hold and now had to face it. He did not want to go through this.

After all why should it be he, he who was so alone? She was the one with her four elder brothers in the school to look after her.

Once more he could see the face of his uncle in his mind. He should go to him.

As soon as he made his move though something he could not have predicated happened.

Somehow Tom put an image into his head. It was the image of a man with aristocratic features, long blond hair ... he was lying on the floor, eyes glazed over.

He was dead. Lucius Malfoy was dead.

Draco interpreted the image just as Tom had intended him too. If he went to his uncle, then his father was sure to die.

Feeling more alone than he had since he had been back at Hogwarts, Draco crawled under the covers and went to sleep, praying that by the time he woke up it would all over and be proved to be the most terrible nightmare.

-

When he woke up though the school was buzzing and all anyone could talk about was Mrs Norris being petrified. He tried to stay away from people who were talking about it for fear someone would accuse him but he could not. Gossip about it was just everywhere. That and of course, the myth of the Chamber of Secrets.

He had heard of it when he and been a child. It was a myth that every Slytherin told their children when they were young when they were being taught about how good and grand it was to be a pure blood. At least, he assumed it was because his father had told the myth to him.

And he supposed if you took the view that muggle borns were really scum then it was not a story but a glorious vision of how things were meant to be how they should be.

In a sense, how they always should have been.

The idea that Slytherin's heir was to return to the school, and then proceed to make sure that it was only those who were worthy to study magic studying it...

To him, of course it seemed nothing short of barbaric. He had tried to deny it so much but the truth was he was a liberal lad, he was a boy of his age despite everything he had been told and how he had been raised. The truth was he did not think the majority minded who came to Hogwarts.

But while he was thinking this he was also suffering with the most tremendous feeling of guilt he had ever had to cope with. Maria had not made him attack Mrs Norris. He had done it. But in a weird way, he hadn't...

He was like every other student in the school. By no means did he like Filch. He was not pleasant – not to anyone.

But the anger he seemed to be displaying towards all the students was more than fury. It was fury that was masked through grief. Grief for what he, Draco had done.

He knew he should tell someone and hand the diary in. But he just couldn't, because every time he even considered it Tom put the image of his father's death in his mind. He did not understand what hold he had over him but he wanted to break it.

So much.

-

He found that he was good at trying to put it to the back of his mind though. Some days Tom did not get to him as much as others. Some days he was fine. And others he felt as if he was going to go insane if he was not able to write in the diary.

Tom seemed to him to be greatest enemy and his greatest friend as well. When he was not influencing him he could be welcoming and kind, even after the attack somehow he could soothe and comfort Draco over the difficulties he was having with his father.

It was confusing. If he was honest with himself, Draco knew that he did not know what to think. He did not know how to deal with this. Maybe that was why he was so happy when a week had passed after he had done what he had done. Filch was still there of course and he was a constant reminder. But at least he had a reason to get out of the castle and do something he enjoyed.

He would be able to forget when he was at the Quidditch game. After all Professor Sprout was going to be able to make some mandrake draught soon and that meant that Mrs Norris was going be to be ok.

Tom said so. It was all going to be ok.

Severus was watching closely when he saw his nephew arrive at the Quidditch pitch. He himself had gone out early to show his support for his house of course. Draco had been in an odd mood that week and he had not seen him as much as he would have liked to considering they lived in the same castle. His concern had also been heightened considering he had not seen Draco at the feast.

However ,Draco went to the Ravenclaw stands as soon he entered of course and they were once more apart. Comforting himself that he would keep Draco back for a chat on Monday he turned his attention back to the pitch where the game was about to start. He could only hope that his team did better than they had the year before.

However, the Slytherin's and the rest of the school did have to deal with the fact there was now once more a Potter on the team.

He rolled his eyes. He had tried to take on board what Draco had said to him the year before but he knew he was never going to like his loves son because he was also the son of James Potter and he so clearly took after his father so much more than he did the angel who had been his mother. As if he had got his team on the Gryffindor team for anything more than his name.

He let out a small sigh. Years and years after her death and he was still longing for Lily as if she had left him the day before.

The game turned out to be nothing if not eventful. Especially for the son of the green eyed women who had captured the heart of the head of Slytherin house.

If Draco had ever needed proof of the fact that Gilderoy Lockhart was possibly the most incompetent teacher who had ever been employed at Hogwarts School, he got it at that Quidditch game. Harry was off for a night in the hospital wing and he almost wished he had been able to go and see him. It had been some first game for his old friend. But when...He knew that Ron and Hermione were going to be with him though; he would be fine.

He would get his bones back and he would be ok.

He hoped.

If nothing else then at least Harry had the comfort that he had won the game. It was a comfort that poor Vincent and Greg were not going to have when they got into bed that night.

It meant that Gryffindor was going to be some competition when they went up against them, clearly. Harry had flown very well.

Draco had just been about to go back to the dorm to write about it when he felt another headache coming on.

And this time, it would not just be an animal who suffered....

If he thought he had felt bad when he had had a part in petrifying Mrs. Norris, it was nothing compared to the guilt he felt when he woke up to release he had been the one who had petrify Colin Creevey.

He had hurt a student and he had...

He didn't even know what he had done but he was so scared... he feared what he was doing because he knew he had no control over any of it.

It was as if Tom was in his head all time because it was only whenever he was on his own that he suffered with his guilt greatly. When he was about the school, Tom was controlling him and he was keeping him cool and collected. He felt as if he was under some kind of Imperious curse and he had no way out of it.

To his horror he was acting as if he did not care what he had done... when in actual fact, he felt sickened by it.

Sick to his very stomach...

This wasn't him. He wasn't doing it. He just didn't know how to deal with it. And. he definitely didn't know how to make it stop.

Colin was a first year. He should be enjoying his first year at school - loving it – not getting stuck on the Hospital wing he thought miserably.

Tom, you have to stop this!

What are you on about Draco? I have only just begun doing the work that should have been done so long ago. Are you not proud of the work you are doing? When Dark Lord returns, he will be grateful to you and he will honour the Malfoy's above your wildest dreams.

I don't want honour Tom... I just want this to stop!

-

"Draco," said Severus as class came to an end and the others filled out. The young boy looked up at him with tired eyes. "Stay behind."

Slouching back onto his chair the young Malfoy nodded. He had almost expected to be kept back that day from the moment her had walked into the room. He knew his weariness was showing and his uncle was going to be concerned. He had even thought seriously about cutting class for the first time – but then he knew then Severus would only track him down like a bloodhound.

"I am ok Uncle Sev." He said as soon as the door had shut and they were alone.

"Do not give me that Draco; you forget that I know you better than you know yourself." He said with a tone which was half loving and half filled with annoyance that he had tried to fob him off. "What are you doing at the moment except not taking good care of yourself young man?"

Severus went and he sat opposite the young man who was only to clearly exhausted. He reached out for Draco to ruffle his hair and the boy relaxed into the welcome affectionate touch.

"Not much – I am just tired." Draco said, knowing that only was not going to appease the formidable positions master. "I guess I am feeling a little under the weather." He shrugged.

"Right, you are coming back to my rooms, I don't care what you say."

Draco looked up and he knew he had been defeated. His uncle was in one of his moods when he meant every word he said and quite asides that he did not want to fight him on going back to his quarters for a while. He would quite enjoy it, he was sure. It would be like going to a little bit of home.

Within half an hour he found himself laid up of Severus' sofa. His uncle had given him a blanket and he had a warm drink in his hands.

He could not help but think that Severus was still trying to make it up to him for not seeing him in the summer. But that was fine by him.

"Are you sure you are ok?" asked Severus as he sat at the end of the sofa.

Draco nodded.

"You know that you can always talk to me no matter what is going on?"

"I know that."

"And there is nothing you want to tell me?"

Draco saw Colin Creevey in his head. He saw what he had done. But he couldn't tell.

It wasn't just his dad and the image Tom had given him of Lucius. If people found out what was going on then he was going to be public enemy number one and he was going to be kicked out of Hogwarts for sure. A lifetime at home with his father was not an attractive thought. school was at that moment the only life line he had.

If he was found out, then he was sure not even Severus could protect him, though he was sure his great protector would try.

"You know all these attacks, you're not to worry about them Draco." Said Severus attempting to be reassuring, reaching out to his nephew's cheek soothing and gently stroking it with his thumb. "One, you are a pureblood and so by default safe. And Two, I'm here and will not allow harm to come to you." He knew it was the kind of thing that would get to Draco.

"I know uncle Sev."

"Good boy." He said as he nodded at him. "You have a sleep Draco."

Even though he knew it was not going to help in the long run and that he should not allow his uncle to think that fear of being attacked himself was driving him to the fatigue that seemed to wrap itself about him like a snake, Draco didn't seem to be able to help it at that moment. He wanted to rest and he knew he was going to sleep more peacefully knowing his uncle was close.

The last thing he felt before he went to sleep was a gentle kiss being placed on his forehead and the blanket wrapped around him firmly. The diary was in his trunk and he was not at the Malfoy manor, but he could not remember the last time he had felt so secure.

Please review!

Author note: As ever I hope guys enjoyed the chapter. It was a bit of a toughy to write because contrary to what a lot of you probably think by now, I don't like seeing Draco upset, or indeed any of the characters I write. Fathers Son has just been one of my more harrowing plots. Also, you guys know it has been a while since I put pen to paper (or indeed fingers to keyboard, lol) so in a sense I had to reacquaint myself with everyone, (Having just reread, I feel as if Snape is very OOC in particular in that end scene – sorry about that!) but I should be writing more consistently now and hopefully going to be able to update more often from here on in. My second semester at University is over and so I just have my exams to go in May (and so will need a break from revision to write at least an hour every day for the sake of my sanity) now until I am done for the whole year. I'd like to thank you all for your lovely words and your continued patience. It does mean a lot that so many of you are reviewing.