A/N: Most warnings are for later chapters. This fic has been published by me before, but unfortunately got erased. There is a new chapter, so be patient. As always R&R!
Chapter One: Lonely Manor
Draco Malfoy woke up feeling as though he hadn’t rested. After trying for an hour to get back to sleep he admitted defeat. He sat up and pulled open the satin hanging of his four-poster bed. He gasped slightly as his feet hit the cool marble.
Drawing back the curtains of the large room, Draco saw rain pounding the ground outside. "Figures," he thought, glaring at the dark gray and moody sky. Draco got dressed then walked through the quiet manor toward the dining area.
Draco saw, at the other end of the table, the blonde head of his mother. He bowed at the waist and said, “Good morning mother. I trust you slept well.” Narcissa did not reply. Draco sat down and began to spread marmalade on his toast. He didn’t realize his mother’s silent tears until he heard a hearty sniff.
Draco dropped his toast and looked at his mother, concerned. “Mother, what is wrong?”
Narcissa wiped her tears away. “Your Uncle Truwen wrote to tell me that your father will be on trial soon to see if he’s going to get the…the…” she hiccoughed, then whispered, “The kiss.”
Draco got up and swiftly walked to the end of the table. He draped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and leaned close. “Mother, we must stay strong.” Draco sighed. “I cannot say what will happen, but we must continue living our lives.” Seeing that his words had little impact Draco stood up and said confidently, “Legal hearings take so much time, father will be freed by then.” Draco’s stomach jolted. He tried to shake away the feeling of dread that always arose at the thought of Lucius.
Narcissa raised her head proudly and wiped her tears away. “I apologize son. Please…sit.”
Draco groaned inwardly, but walked slowly back to his chair and took his seat. He chewed slowly on his toast, but his stomach grumbled in protest.
Narcissa kept glancing up at her son, checking his face for any weakness. Draco stared determinedly at his eggs, stabbing them unmercifully. He glanced out the window and realized, with a deep sigh, that it was raining even harder. After eating half of his breakfast Draco could not force anything else into his wriggling stomach.
“If you would please excuse me mother, I have other business to attend to,” he said, standing. He then gave a small bow and exited the cold room.
All summer Draco had let his feet carry him in circles. Everyday since break started he wandered the Malfoy Manor and it’s grounds. He thought of mainly one thing: Death Eaters. Unlike his mother, Draco knew of his father’s plans. He had been persistently pressed by Lucius to join, but Draco had always said he wished to wait until he was outside Hogwarts. Only Draco had a growing dread whenever he thought of the commitment and the burning of his left forearm.
Mr. Goyle had stopped by the house nearly every week to talk to Draco. Their talks were becoming less civilized, and Mr. Goyle seemed to realize Draco’s desire to join the Death Eaters was waning. He had impressed on Draco the advantages of joining, and he had not told of any more of the Dark Lord’s newfound plans. Draco figured the Dark Lord would soon free the incarcerated, but it was just a matter of when.
As Draco paced the extravagant (and very wet) garden his thoughts turned to Lucius. His heart seemed to drop to the pit of his stomach at the thought of what his father would do if he said, “I do not want to join, Father.”
"Would he use the Cruciatus curse on me? Or would my dear father disown his only son? Whatever he’d do, I am sure it would not be pleasant."
Draco shook his head and commanded his brain to think of something else. His mind drifted back to what his father had said the one and only time Draco and Narcissa were allowed to visit.
Halfway through the conversation his mother, highly distraught, rose and left. Lucius whispered to his son, “Don’t worry, Draco. Harry Potter will get what he deserves, as will his love.” At this time, though, the Dementors closed in around Lucius and Draco knew it was time to leave.
Draco pondered the meaning of his father’s words as the rain drenched him through and through. He didn’t understand who Harry’s love was supposed to be. He thought it could possibly be Cho Chang, but toward the end of last year the two seemed estranged.
"Unless father knows something I do not. He is one of the Dark Lord’s closest allies. Also, father has a glimpse inside Hogwarts through Professor Snape."
Draco smiled and looked up at the angry sky. Lighting flashed as Draco thought of potions class and the silent deal between himself and Professor Snape to give Saint Potter as much grief as possible. Draco actually missed Hogwarts, and compared to the loneliness of the Manor and watching his mother suffering silent tears, putting up with Potter, the Weasley, and the Mudblood would be relaxing.
Draco’s mind chased the same thoughts around all morning. He finally started feeling cold around noon and decided to shower, shave and clean up for another lonely luncheon with his miserable mother.
“Draco, darling, you’re positively soaked! Have you been outside this whole time?”
“Yes mother. I apologize if I worried you,” Draco said pushing his normally sleek hair out of his eyes.
“Well…clean up. Lunch should be ready soon.”
“Yes mother,” said Draco, bowing slightly and heading to his private bathroom. He took a long steamy shower, shaved, and dressed in dry robes. He left his hair loose and somewhat messy.
Draco bowed as he entered the dining area. “Good afternoon, Mother.” Food had already been laid before them. Draco sipped his tea, which felt very nice and warm, then began on his sandwich.
“I meant to tell you, Draco, that your Hogwarts letter arrived this morning in the owl post.” Misery fluttered across Narcissa’s face. She fixed an unconvincing smile on her face and added, “We shall floo to Diagon Alley in the morning to buy your supplies.”
“That would be great, mother,” replied Draco, forcing down the rest of his sandwich and tea.
“Oh, and also…Mr. Goyle will be dining with us tonight. He wishes to talk to you.”
Chapter One: Lonely Manor
Draco Malfoy woke up feeling as though he hadn’t rested. After trying for an hour to get back to sleep he admitted defeat. He sat up and pulled open the satin hanging of his four-poster bed. He gasped slightly as his feet hit the cool marble.
Drawing back the curtains of the large room, Draco saw rain pounding the ground outside. "Figures," he thought, glaring at the dark gray and moody sky. Draco got dressed then walked through the quiet manor toward the dining area.
Draco saw, at the other end of the table, the blonde head of his mother. He bowed at the waist and said, “Good morning mother. I trust you slept well.” Narcissa did not reply. Draco sat down and began to spread marmalade on his toast. He didn’t realize his mother’s silent tears until he heard a hearty sniff.
Draco dropped his toast and looked at his mother, concerned. “Mother, what is wrong?”
Narcissa wiped her tears away. “Your Uncle Truwen wrote to tell me that your father will be on trial soon to see if he’s going to get the…the…” she hiccoughed, then whispered, “The kiss.”
Draco got up and swiftly walked to the end of the table. He draped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and leaned close. “Mother, we must stay strong.” Draco sighed. “I cannot say what will happen, but we must continue living our lives.” Seeing that his words had little impact Draco stood up and said confidently, “Legal hearings take so much time, father will be freed by then.” Draco’s stomach jolted. He tried to shake away the feeling of dread that always arose at the thought of Lucius.
Narcissa raised her head proudly and wiped her tears away. “I apologize son. Please…sit.”
Draco groaned inwardly, but walked slowly back to his chair and took his seat. He chewed slowly on his toast, but his stomach grumbled in protest.
Narcissa kept glancing up at her son, checking his face for any weakness. Draco stared determinedly at his eggs, stabbing them unmercifully. He glanced out the window and realized, with a deep sigh, that it was raining even harder. After eating half of his breakfast Draco could not force anything else into his wriggling stomach.
“If you would please excuse me mother, I have other business to attend to,” he said, standing. He then gave a small bow and exited the cold room.
All summer Draco had let his feet carry him in circles. Everyday since break started he wandered the Malfoy Manor and it’s grounds. He thought of mainly one thing: Death Eaters. Unlike his mother, Draco knew of his father’s plans. He had been persistently pressed by Lucius to join, but Draco had always said he wished to wait until he was outside Hogwarts. Only Draco had a growing dread whenever he thought of the commitment and the burning of his left forearm.
Mr. Goyle had stopped by the house nearly every week to talk to Draco. Their talks were becoming less civilized, and Mr. Goyle seemed to realize Draco’s desire to join the Death Eaters was waning. He had impressed on Draco the advantages of joining, and he had not told of any more of the Dark Lord’s newfound plans. Draco figured the Dark Lord would soon free the incarcerated, but it was just a matter of when.
As Draco paced the extravagant (and very wet) garden his thoughts turned to Lucius. His heart seemed to drop to the pit of his stomach at the thought of what his father would do if he said, “I do not want to join, Father.”
"Would he use the Cruciatus curse on me? Or would my dear father disown his only son? Whatever he’d do, I am sure it would not be pleasant."
Draco shook his head and commanded his brain to think of something else. His mind drifted back to what his father had said the one and only time Draco and Narcissa were allowed to visit.
Halfway through the conversation his mother, highly distraught, rose and left. Lucius whispered to his son, “Don’t worry, Draco. Harry Potter will get what he deserves, as will his love.” At this time, though, the Dementors closed in around Lucius and Draco knew it was time to leave.
Draco pondered the meaning of his father’s words as the rain drenched him through and through. He didn’t understand who Harry’s love was supposed to be. He thought it could possibly be Cho Chang, but toward the end of last year the two seemed estranged.
"Unless father knows something I do not. He is one of the Dark Lord’s closest allies. Also, father has a glimpse inside Hogwarts through Professor Snape."
Draco smiled and looked up at the angry sky. Lighting flashed as Draco thought of potions class and the silent deal between himself and Professor Snape to give Saint Potter as much grief as possible. Draco actually missed Hogwarts, and compared to the loneliness of the Manor and watching his mother suffering silent tears, putting up with Potter, the Weasley, and the Mudblood would be relaxing.
Draco’s mind chased the same thoughts around all morning. He finally started feeling cold around noon and decided to shower, shave and clean up for another lonely luncheon with his miserable mother.
“Draco, darling, you’re positively soaked! Have you been outside this whole time?”
“Yes mother. I apologize if I worried you,” Draco said pushing his normally sleek hair out of his eyes.
“Well…clean up. Lunch should be ready soon.”
“Yes mother,” said Draco, bowing slightly and heading to his private bathroom. He took a long steamy shower, shaved, and dressed in dry robes. He left his hair loose and somewhat messy.
Draco bowed as he entered the dining area. “Good afternoon, Mother.” Food had already been laid before them. Draco sipped his tea, which felt very nice and warm, then began on his sandwich.
“I meant to tell you, Draco, that your Hogwarts letter arrived this morning in the owl post.” Misery fluttered across Narcissa’s face. She fixed an unconvincing smile on her face and added, “We shall floo to Diagon Alley in the morning to buy your supplies.”
“That would be great, mother,” replied Draco, forcing down the rest of his sandwich and tea.
“Oh, and also…Mr. Goyle will be dining with us tonight. He wishes to talk to you.”
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