Draco sat in the library at Malfoy Manor, rereading one of his favorite childhood books; Tales of Beedle the Bard. In fact, Draco was so into the book, that he didn't hear the library door open and close, the sound of tiny pitter-pattering of feet on the limestone floor. But after a good ten minutes, Draco suddenly became uncomfortable, as if there was someone watching him. Indeed there was; Draco put the book aside and looked down to find that his house-elf, Dotty, was staring up him in an almost worshipping way.
"Hello, Dotty. What is it?" Draco asked the elf kindly. Unlike his father, Draco actually understood and knew how to treat house elves with the respect that they deserved.
"Dotty has been told to fetch Mr. Draco, sirs, she has. Your father, wishes to see you, sir, in his office." Dotty said, in her very soft spoken voice so that Draco had to nearly lean into her to hear.
"Of course, thank you Dotty," Draco said, smiling at the elf. He got up and headed to his father's study, which was conveniently right down the hall from the library, so he didn't have to go far.
When Draco got to his father's office door, he knocked on it, a feeling of apprehension settling in his stomach. What could his father possibly want to talk to him about? It wasn't as though they ever had straight father-to-son conversations or anything. On the contrary, Draco couldn't ever remember being called into his father's office for anything good. Draco's heart skipped a beat when his father's cold voice said, "Enter." Draco opened the door, peering around the frame to the dark figure of his father sitting in his chair, reading a letter of some kind at his desk.
"Yes father? You wanted to see me?" Draco asked, trying to steady his breathing, trying not to sound suspicious, although of what, he couldn't be sure; his father always made him feel as though he did something wrong. Mr. Malfoy looked up from his letter; Draco couldn't tell what mood he was in for his facial features seemed neutral. Draco wasn't sure if he should be more relieved or scared by this.
"Sit down, Draco." Lucius said, setting the letter aside and giving his full attention to his son. Draco sat down obediently. They just stared at each other, father and son, for what felt like hours to Draco. And then Lucius spoke. "I just received a very interesting letter from Mrs. Parkinson, Pansy's mother."
Draco tried to look neutral himself, although he had an idea of where this was going. With Pansy Parkinson as one of the school's biggest gossips', Draco and Harry's relationship was bound to reach his father at some point. He just didn't think it would be this quick. "Oh?" was all Draco could say.
"Yes, and she seemed to have a lot to say around the subject of you." Lucius said, watching his son very closely as he said, "any idea as to why?" Draco just shook his head, staring straight ahead just past his father. "Well, it appears that Pansy arrived home for the holidays rather upset and disheveled. When her mother confronted her of the matter, she said that her chances of being with you have just been ruined. Now why is that, Draco?" Lucius asked in a dead calm whisper.
Draco tried so hard to control the urge to roll his eyes. "Because Pansy knows that I will never go out with her no matter what." Draco said a little rudely. He stole a glance at his father who looked at him with anger. So Draco added, "because she's like a sister to me, and it would be weird. Sir."
Lucius took in a deep breath before continuing, pacing up and down in front of Draco. "Be that as it may, I'm more interested as to why her chances are ruined in the first place. Is there something you care to tell me?" Lucius asked, stopping his pacing in front of Draco, who was still looking at the wall past him. Draco simply shook his head. "No? Are you sure? Because I have Mrs. Parkinson's letter right here explaining everything. But I would rather hear straight from the source that my own son is a faggot!" (A/N: I am SO SORRY if I offended anyone with this word! I only used it because I feel like that's something Lucius would say. Please don't hate me!)
Draco jumped out of his seat so fast that it tipped over, but he hardly noticed; his breathing had become ragged as his blood began to boil with anger and hate towards his father. He balled his fists up, trying to control his fury.
"So it's true, then," Lucius said in a deadly whisper, narrowing his eyes. "My son…my son! With Harry Potter, no less!" Lucius screamed. Draco flinched as his father's face moved inches from his. "Have you any idea the shame you have brought to this family? Well? HAVE YOU?!"
"There's no need to be ashamed of me. I haven't done anything wrong," Draco said, his voice shaking from anger. He still refused to look at his father.
"Haven't done anything wrong? We are one of the oldest pure-blooded families still in existence! How do you expect the Malfoy line to continue if you keep fooling around with people like Potter?!" Lucius spat in disgust.
"You mean with guys? Because that's what Harry is, father, a guy! And is that all you really care about? Keeping the pure-blood status alive? Well just so you know, we can't keep doing this forever! We're marrying our own cousins trying to keep it alive – which is disgusting – yet you look at me and Harry's relationship as if we are beneath you? That's not how that works! We need to look to the future and marry those outside of our families and get this pure-blooded bullshit out of our heads!" Draco yelled, finally looking his father in the eyes; he could see the hatred already building.
"It's not just a pure-blood thing. You're fraternizing with the enemy! Harry Potter brought the temporary downfall of the Dark Lord! You have jeopardized this family, and everything we stand for and I WILL NOT HAVE IT!" Lucius screamed in Draco's face, causing him to take a step backwards. "Do you have ANY idea what the Dark Lord will do when he finds out that one of his most faithful servants' son his dating the boy who nearly destroyed him?!" Lucius' face had turned a nasty red color in his rage.
Draco's stomach dropped with fear; he hadn't thought about his family's affiliation with You-Know-Who, and what that might mean for them when this bit of information got out. But Draco kept his face as neutral as possible, not wanting to show his father that his words had any effect on him at all.
When Lucius spoke, it was in a deadly calm voice once more, "Now, you will end this with Potter, or rest assured, I WILL kill him." Lucius said, looking Draco straight in the eyes.
Draco couldn't help but let out a mirthless laugh. "You-Know-Who can't even kill him! What makes you think you can?"
WHAM! Lucius' first connected with the left side of Draco's face, giving him whiplash as he landed hard on the office floor. Draco clutched his face and felt blood – one of his father's rings had ripped his skin opened as it collided with his face. Draco looked up at his father, who was staring down at him with such hatred that he didn't look like himself. Lucius was rubbing the fist that had punched Draco, his breathing ragged from the adrenaline pumping through his body.
Draco got up, still holding his face and staggered to the door, his eyes never leaving his father's. He groped for the doorknob and pulled – Lucius took a step forward. "We are not through talking!" He yelled.
"Well I'm through listening!" Draco yelled back, and he turned and ran…he ran through the hallway, the parlor, the foyer, and out the front door, not stopping until he reached the gate that lead to the outside world. He looked back – his father was standing in the front door, a look of such loathing that it actually hurt Draco; he was nothing but a disappointment in his father's eyes. Draco turned around and ran and ran, not stopping and keeping his eyes focused ahead, blinking away the tears falling down his face.
Draco had run what he thought was at least ten miles. He stopped outside a quaint little cottage set slightly apart from the other houses, with rose bushes and willow trees surrounding it from all sides, minus the front where the entrance was. Draco staggered down the path to the cottage, trying to catch his breath, holding the stitch in his side. He knocked on the door three times, leaning against the doorframe; the cold metal felt good on his hot head.
"Draco? What a lovely surpr – oh my!" The door had opened to reveal a woman around her early seventies; she had long salt-and-pepper colored hair which was braided to the side, and kind brown eyes. She was shorter than Draco by at least a foot, but that didn't stop her from helping him into the cottage by putting his arm around her shoulder, and practically dragging him to the living room, where she helped him onto the couch. Draco sat there for a moment, feeling all the aches and pains catching up to him from his seemingly endless run.
"You poor dear! I'm going to get you something to put on that cut!" The woman said, leaving the living room. Draco, who's eyes had been closed in momentary rest, opened them once more, looking into the mirror that was hanging beside the couch; his whole left cheekbone was puffy and bruised, dried blood all over. Draco gave it a quick poke which caused it to send a shooting pain across the left side of his face. He winced.
"Don't touch it! You'll only irritate it further!" The woman was back with a cloth in one hand and a bowl of murtlap in the other. She sat beside Draco and started cleaning his face without hesitation.
"Thanks Grandma," Draco said with gratitude. He closed his eyes, letting his grandmother dress his wounds. He was so exhausted, he could have fallen asleep right there on the couch…the murtlap felt so good on his stinging face…but then his grandmother started to speak.
"What on earth happened to you, my dear?" She asked in concern.
Draco opened his eyes and looked into his grandmother's, who looked truly worried. "Father punched me," Draco said in a small voice. His grandmother let out a gasp.
"He did not! Whatever for?" Mrs. Black asked, picking up the cloth she had dropped, and resuming the cleaning of Draco's wounds.
"Well, part of the reason was because I insulted You-Know-Who, so I suppose I had that one coming," Draco sighed, his heart starting to race again. He knew that the conversation will eventually have to turn his and Harry's relationship, and he wasn't sure he was prepared to have that conversation with his grandmother yet.
"Draco! I'm surprised at you! You should never be reprimanded in such a way for expressing your opinions, I've taught you better than that!" Mrs. Black said angrily, turning Draco's face so that he was facing her. "And as for insulting You-Know-Who, well, someone has to get it through your father's thick skull that that man – if you can call him that – will soon meet his downfall. And what better person to tell him than his own son? I truly am proud of you, Draco."
Draco gave his grandmother a small smile, nodding. This was why he loved his mother's mother the best…because she wasn't like all the rest of the family, trying to keep the pure-blooded status alive. She was compassionate and understanding. And as these thoughts were going through his head, Draco knew it would be best to get the next part of the conversation over with. He heaved a heavy sigh.
"There's something else, isn't there?" Mrs. Black asked. Draco looked up at his grandmother, who was observing him. He stared at her for a moment before nodding. Mrs. Black put the bowl of murtlap aside and took Draco's hands into hers. "What is it darling?"
"Well, it wasn't just insulting You-Know-Who that angered father," Draco said, determined to try and keep eye contact with her. "He, um….he found out…er…" Draco faltered looking down at his smooth hands that were entwined with his grandmother's aged ones.
"Draco, you know you can tell me anything, dear," Mrs. Black said softly.
"I know….it's just….I just don't want to disappoint you," Draco said, his voice quivering. His grandmother took her hands from Draco's and gently placed them on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her once more.
"I could never be disappointed in you! I have always supported you in everything that you do, and nothing you have to say right now will change that." Mrs. Black said sternly. Draco nodded his head once more and took a deep breath.
"OK, well, here it goes then….um…I'm gay." Draco said quickly, just wanting to get it over with. He watched his grandmother closely.
"Oh?" was all she said. Whatever she thought her grandson was going to say, this was not it.
"But there's more. Um, what sparked this whole thing with You-Know-Who was because I'm, er, dating Harry Potter." Draco said. His grandmother was silent once more, but then –
"I think that's great!" Mrs. Black said, a wide smile spreading across her face; it managed to reach her eyes, crinkling them at the corners from years of laughter. Draco was highly taken aback by this – he wasn't expecting her to react in quite that way.
"You do?" He asked confusedly.
"Absolutely! It proves that love makes exceptions for anyone! You, coming from the family that you do, have more of an understanding of what love actually is. You understanding that it matters not what's carried in your blood, but in your heart. Being pure-blood doesn't guarantee happiness, but being with someone who does make you happy is the best of all, and no one can take that from you. You're gay and I am proud to call you my grandson!" Mrs. Black said, pulling Draco into a hug. Draco hugged her back tightly, glad for an excuse for his grandmother to not see the tears rolling down his cheeks.
That's all Draco wanted – someone to accept him as is, and his grandmother just did. She said that she was proud of him. Proud of him being who he was! Draco never felt closer to his grandmother than he did right at that very moment. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes before pulling away from his grandmother, a genuine smile plastered on his face.
"Thanks, grandma. I really needed to hear that!" Draco said happily.
"Absolutely, dear! I'm glad that you told me! Now, I'm sure you're exhausted! Why don't you take a quick nap and I'll fix us up some dinner." Mrs. Black said, getting up from the couch. Draco followed suit.
"I was actually wondering if I could borrow your owl? I need to send a letter." Draco said. His grandmother's expression turned from one of curiosity, to an understanding smile.
"Of course you can dear. Piper's in the drawing room on her perch," Mrs. Black said, starting to turn around. But then she turned back and added, "Oh, and dear? Tell Harry I said hi." She smiled and walked out of the living room. Draco smiled at his grandmother's retreating back. She never ceased to amaze him.