Draco stretched and surreptitiously stuck the papers he had been copying back into his bag. He glanced around to see if anyone noticed, trying to keep the movement as casual as possible. The Slytherin common room, where he’d been for the last hour, was crowded, but everyone seemed to be occupied with their own activities. They were all ignoring each other.
Draco sat for a minute longer, staring off into the darkened, gloomy corners of the room. He didn’t want to make this visit to his father tonight, but it was absolutely necessary. He’d been putting it off, still hoping there was some way he could get out of it.
He stood with a sigh and headed toward the stairs that would take him to his dormitory. Blaise finally noticed him and jumped up to follow, but neither one of them said anything as they walked.
Once they’d settled into their room, Blaise said, “Did you hear? Pansy has detention tonight for her attack on the Weasley girl.”
“Finally?” Draco replied. “It’s been ten days! About time something happened.”
Blaise looked at him oddly before continuing. “She’s been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid.”
“That’s it?” Draco exclaimed. He didn’t think this served justice for an unwarranted attack on an unsuspecting student. “That’s been a popular one recently, but what she did is so much worse than some of the other stuff that goes on. She should at least spend one night in the dungeons.”
His rage must have shown on his face because Blaise raised his eyebrows. “You seem pretty upset about this,” he stated.
Draco suddenly realized that he was talking to Blaise Zabini, another Slytherin who could never understand or appreciate the depth of emotion Draco was feeling. As a rule, Slytherins did not consider emotion important. Most saw it as a weakness and preferred to be indifferent.
Draco shook his head. “I don’t know what to think, Blaise,” he said, trying to assuage his friend’s curiosity. “This whole system… there’s no… it’s all messed up. There’s no order to it.”
Blaise nodded slowly and Draco could practically see the wheels turning in his head. The other Slytherin was extremely brilliant, even if he usually had his face attached to a girl. It wouldn’t take much for him to discover that there was more between Draco and Ginny that they were letting on.
Draco tried to distract Blaise from his pondering by asking him about his newest girlfriend, an exceptionally curvy girl a year behind them. He made a general comment in reply, then said, “You like her don’t you? And don’t mess with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
Draco sighed. “I’ll admit,” he replied casually, “that she’s an attractive girl, and I’m interested. I’m sure it’s only a passing thing though. I mean, look at all the other girls I’ve had over the years.”
Blaise gave him a calculating look that made him want to squirm. “Passing,” he scoffed. “This is different. It’s more than just attraction and passing interest. I can always tell with you Draco. You really like her.”
Draco stared at his friend. He’d known him for ages, but Blaise never failed to surprise him with how well he could read people. How does he do it? he wondered to himself. He just seems to know.
Blaise shrugged as if he’d never been concerned in the first place and changed the subject. They talked for a while about insignificant things like the essay that Professor Flitwick had assigned that day and an odd comment one or the other had overheard.
Finally the other students started going to bed. The boys said good-night, then Draco climbed behind the curtains of his four poster and lay quietly, listening.
Thirty minutes passed before all noise had stopped and the sounds of sleep began. Crabbe let out a deafening snore and Theodore Nott began mumbling nonsensically. Draco cautiously slipped out of bed and out the door, grabbing his hand-written notes on the way.
When he reached the large stone fireplace, the fire nearly dead by now, he took a handful of Floo powder. He threw it into the fireplace saying “Malfoy Manor” as loud as he dared, and stepped into the green flames. As he whirled away through the millions of fireplaces he focused on not allowing anything to show on his face.
After several seconds, the spinning slowed until Draco was able to step out of the grate into his father’s study. The room was dark, lit only be the fire Draco had just exited. Books were scattered across the large mahogany desk in a haphazard way, which was unusual for its normally immaculate state of organization.
Lucius Malfoy lifted himself out of a chair that had been hidden in a deep shadow off to one side of the fireplace. He stepped in front of Draco and surveyed him stiffly. “So you finally decided to come, Draco,” he drawled. “I haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Draco replied. “A lot has been happening this week. It’s my N.E.W.T. year, you know. Homework has been exhausting.”
Lucius stalked to his desk and pushed the books to the floor. “How many times do I have to tell you? School is not important anymore. With Him you won’t need any of that. Your assignment is worth so much more than your education.”
“I want it anyway, Father.”
“Why? What can that school give you that the Dark Lord cannot?”
Draco took a deep breath. “The satisfaction of knowing I’ve done it for myself. That I’ve actually earned what I get, rather than having it handed to me,” he explained, hoping his father would understand.
Ice seemed to shoot out of Lucius’ eyes. “You are earning it, Draco.” He settled easily into his seat and motioned to the one across the desk from him. “Now, what have you brought me?”
Draco handed his father the three spells he’d grabbed earlier. Lucius looked at the first two casually, as if they were nothing. When he flipped to the last one, however, his expression changed. His eyes took on a hard, accusing cast and his face flushed.
His jaw clenched, he threw the paper back at Draco. One edge caught his cheek, scraping roughly across the skin. As Draco clutched his face, Lucius bellowed, “You already showed this one to me!
Draco picked it up in horror and read over it. “I did?”
Could he possibly have forgotten? Could he have made such a stupid mistake? He had been so careful, trying to keep from getting caught in his deception. It was hard to keep all the spells organized, but he thought he had been doing well.
Lucius stood abruptly, throwing his chair backwards. “It was one of the first. You brought it to me the second time you reported.”
“I don’t… remember. There have been so many.” Draco was beginning to feel uneasy. Lucius was not known for his forgiving nature. If he had made such a big mistake… Draco hated to think.
Lucius rounded the desk and ripped the paper out of Draco’s hand to shake it in front of his face. “This spell is connected directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. It keeps out known criminals. Easy to remember!” He slammed the spell back onto the desk. “You need to start keeping a record so this doesn’t happen again!”
Deciding that acquiescence was the best course of action, Draco replied, “Yes, sir.”
Lucius turned and headed back to his chair in the corner, which was the cue to leave. Draco stood slowly and moved over to the fireplace, surprised that Lucius hadn’t been more angry. He reached up for the Floo powder, but Lucius suddenly returned to the light and grabbed his wrist.
“This should help you to remember,” he said, glaring menacingly. He pressed a borrowed wand into Draco’s palm.
Instantly, Draco felt a searing pain. He cried out and tried to pull away, but the combination of his father’s vice like grip and the force of the magic prevented him.
After an agonizing minute in which Draco continued to struggle vainly, Lucius removed the wand. Draco clutched his throbbing hand to his chest and stumbled backwards, trying to keep himself from yelling again. Lucius grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire and shouted, “Slytherin common room, Hogwarts!” He shoved Draco, who tumbled into the flames.
The spinning was more intense because he wasn’t upright. He began to get dizzy and nauseous. Finally it stopped and Draco spilled out onto the hard stone floor. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
He tried to push himself up, but a strange, heavy sort of sensation spread from his hand into every part of his body. He fell stiffly back to the stone floor, unable to lift himself. This is going to be a long night, he thought glumly.
Draco sat for a minute longer, staring off into the darkened, gloomy corners of the room. He didn’t want to make this visit to his father tonight, but it was absolutely necessary. He’d been putting it off, still hoping there was some way he could get out of it.
He stood with a sigh and headed toward the stairs that would take him to his dormitory. Blaise finally noticed him and jumped up to follow, but neither one of them said anything as they walked.
Once they’d settled into their room, Blaise said, “Did you hear? Pansy has detention tonight for her attack on the Weasley girl.”
“Finally?” Draco replied. “It’s been ten days! About time something happened.”
Blaise looked at him oddly before continuing. “She’s been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid.”
“That’s it?” Draco exclaimed. He didn’t think this served justice for an unwarranted attack on an unsuspecting student. “That’s been a popular one recently, but what she did is so much worse than some of the other stuff that goes on. She should at least spend one night in the dungeons.”
His rage must have shown on his face because Blaise raised his eyebrows. “You seem pretty upset about this,” he stated.
Draco suddenly realized that he was talking to Blaise Zabini, another Slytherin who could never understand or appreciate the depth of emotion Draco was feeling. As a rule, Slytherins did not consider emotion important. Most saw it as a weakness and preferred to be indifferent.
Draco shook his head. “I don’t know what to think, Blaise,” he said, trying to assuage his friend’s curiosity. “This whole system… there’s no… it’s all messed up. There’s no order to it.”
Blaise nodded slowly and Draco could practically see the wheels turning in his head. The other Slytherin was extremely brilliant, even if he usually had his face attached to a girl. It wouldn’t take much for him to discover that there was more between Draco and Ginny that they were letting on.
Draco tried to distract Blaise from his pondering by asking him about his newest girlfriend, an exceptionally curvy girl a year behind them. He made a general comment in reply, then said, “You like her don’t you? And don’t mess with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
Draco sighed. “I’ll admit,” he replied casually, “that she’s an attractive girl, and I’m interested. I’m sure it’s only a passing thing though. I mean, look at all the other girls I’ve had over the years.”
Blaise gave him a calculating look that made him want to squirm. “Passing,” he scoffed. “This is different. It’s more than just attraction and passing interest. I can always tell with you Draco. You really like her.”
Draco stared at his friend. He’d known him for ages, but Blaise never failed to surprise him with how well he could read people. How does he do it? he wondered to himself. He just seems to know.
Blaise shrugged as if he’d never been concerned in the first place and changed the subject. They talked for a while about insignificant things like the essay that Professor Flitwick had assigned that day and an odd comment one or the other had overheard.
Finally the other students started going to bed. The boys said good-night, then Draco climbed behind the curtains of his four poster and lay quietly, listening.
Thirty minutes passed before all noise had stopped and the sounds of sleep began. Crabbe let out a deafening snore and Theodore Nott began mumbling nonsensically. Draco cautiously slipped out of bed and out the door, grabbing his hand-written notes on the way.
When he reached the large stone fireplace, the fire nearly dead by now, he took a handful of Floo powder. He threw it into the fireplace saying “Malfoy Manor” as loud as he dared, and stepped into the green flames. As he whirled away through the millions of fireplaces he focused on not allowing anything to show on his face.
After several seconds, the spinning slowed until Draco was able to step out of the grate into his father’s study. The room was dark, lit only be the fire Draco had just exited. Books were scattered across the large mahogany desk in a haphazard way, which was unusual for its normally immaculate state of organization.
Lucius Malfoy lifted himself out of a chair that had been hidden in a deep shadow off to one side of the fireplace. He stepped in front of Draco and surveyed him stiffly. “So you finally decided to come, Draco,” he drawled. “I haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Draco replied. “A lot has been happening this week. It’s my N.E.W.T. year, you know. Homework has been exhausting.”
Lucius stalked to his desk and pushed the books to the floor. “How many times do I have to tell you? School is not important anymore. With Him you won’t need any of that. Your assignment is worth so much more than your education.”
“I want it anyway, Father.”
“Why? What can that school give you that the Dark Lord cannot?”
Draco took a deep breath. “The satisfaction of knowing I’ve done it for myself. That I’ve actually earned what I get, rather than having it handed to me,” he explained, hoping his father would understand.
Ice seemed to shoot out of Lucius’ eyes. “You are earning it, Draco.” He settled easily into his seat and motioned to the one across the desk from him. “Now, what have you brought me?”
Draco handed his father the three spells he’d grabbed earlier. Lucius looked at the first two casually, as if they were nothing. When he flipped to the last one, however, his expression changed. His eyes took on a hard, accusing cast and his face flushed.
His jaw clenched, he threw the paper back at Draco. One edge caught his cheek, scraping roughly across the skin. As Draco clutched his face, Lucius bellowed, “You already showed this one to me!
Draco picked it up in horror and read over it. “I did?”
Could he possibly have forgotten? Could he have made such a stupid mistake? He had been so careful, trying to keep from getting caught in his deception. It was hard to keep all the spells organized, but he thought he had been doing well.
Lucius stood abruptly, throwing his chair backwards. “It was one of the first. You brought it to me the second time you reported.”
“I don’t… remember. There have been so many.” Draco was beginning to feel uneasy. Lucius was not known for his forgiving nature. If he had made such a big mistake… Draco hated to think.
Lucius rounded the desk and ripped the paper out of Draco’s hand to shake it in front of his face. “This spell is connected directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. It keeps out known criminals. Easy to remember!” He slammed the spell back onto the desk. “You need to start keeping a record so this doesn’t happen again!”
Deciding that acquiescence was the best course of action, Draco replied, “Yes, sir.”
Lucius turned and headed back to his chair in the corner, which was the cue to leave. Draco stood slowly and moved over to the fireplace, surprised that Lucius hadn’t been more angry. He reached up for the Floo powder, but Lucius suddenly returned to the light and grabbed his wrist.
“This should help you to remember,” he said, glaring menacingly. He pressed a borrowed wand into Draco’s palm.
Instantly, Draco felt a searing pain. He cried out and tried to pull away, but the combination of his father’s vice like grip and the force of the magic prevented him.
After an agonizing minute in which Draco continued to struggle vainly, Lucius removed the wand. Draco clutched his throbbing hand to his chest and stumbled backwards, trying to keep himself from yelling again. Lucius grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire and shouted, “Slytherin common room, Hogwarts!” He shoved Draco, who tumbled into the flames.
The spinning was more intense because he wasn’t upright. He began to get dizzy and nauseous. Finally it stopped and Draco spilled out onto the hard stone floor. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
He tried to push himself up, but a strange, heavy sort of sensation spread from his hand into every part of his body. He fell stiffly back to the stone floor, unable to lift himself. This is going to be a long night, he thought glumly.
Author notes: I know it's short, don't kill me! I tried my hardest to make it longer than what I originally wrote, but again, with everything already done, I couldn't do much. Anyway, did you enjoy it? I mean, I know it was horrible for Lucius to do that, but aside from the drama, was it good? Please don't be afraid to tell me. I really love reviews. Thanks to Rosalie, 4everdandg, choravenclaw, psyche, and Nakita! Loves!
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