Title: The Sum of it All
Rating: R/NC-17 eventually
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimers: I do not own any of these characters. JK is the lucky one who does, and she is our goddess
Author notes and ramblings: Pre-OotP, so I guess it’s AU now and Draco is ooc. I know it, I can admit it, but I like it this way.
Lucius Malfoy was sitting at his desk as he had been all day. "Draco!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the manor. The tall, blonde boy, almost a man, quickly appears at the door. "Sir?" He asks, slightly winded.
Lucius slides from behind his desk and glides over to his son. Grabbing the boy roughly by the back of the neck and walking him to a chair, he starts. "My dear boy, what have you been doing?” There was an uncomfortable pause as Lucius waited for an answer. Draco was mute, he didn’t want to lie, but the truth would warrant punishment.
The elder Malfoy raised his eyebrow in interest at his son’s silence. “Your mother and I have been talking…" he continued in an imitation of fatherly love, rage flickering in his eyes. Pushing his heir down in the seat across from his, Lucius slowly walked back to his chair, arms crossed behind him. Draco always thought it looked much like a throne. His father leaned back into his chair and steepled his hands in front of his chin in thought.
"Draco," he sighed, "I,” he stopped “we don't feel you are as dedicated to the cause as you should be." He examined his son's face, looking for something. "You know, of course, that the war is coming. The great battle and you have done nothing this summer. You are gone all day, and when you are home...” Lucius gave a long suffering sigh. “If I didn't know better, I would think you had lost faith in Lord Voldemort. He has been asking me where your allegiance lies."
The younger Malfoy looked at his father, determination in his eyes. "Yes, sir. I am sorry that I have caused you to doubt my faithfulness. I am a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. My allegiance lies with him and also to my family. I have been preparing myself for this moment and am ready should my service be needed." He stared into his father's eyes and thought, If only you knew.
Lucius smiled, it was an unnerving sight. "That's all I needed to hear. There is a job for you, this year at Hogwarts. If you are successful, you will be greatly rewarded. Failure, "He gazed out to the night, "will be punished severely."
Draco gave an involuntary shudder as images of the possible punishments flashed through his head. "What do I need to do, father?" Draco asked, leaning forward slightly. To that Lucius Malfoy turned toward his son, and slowly stood.
Draco awoke with a gasp, drenched in sweat. His eyes darted around the room. He was sure that his father had seen through him. He must have been dreaming. The conversation had not ended there. It had not ended by repeated use of the Cruatius. His father had not tortured him. Not today, at least.
He looked over at the grandfather clock against the wall. In six short hours, he would be on the train back to school. His last year, then freedom from…. Draco slowly sat up and pushed that thought from his head. He needed to get moving, to clear his head. What he needed was to take a shower, have some coffee and not have his father wake up before he left.
“Figwit.” Draco said aloud. *Pop* A house elf apparated at his feet, “Yes, Master Malfoy?” the squeaky voice whispered. “My robe.” Draco stood as the elf hurried to retrieve the silk garment out of his trunk. The small elf had packed it the night before in anticipation of Draco’s departure. He took the fabric out of the elf’s eager hands and slid his arms through it. Draco spoke once more while walking into his bathroom. “I wish to have some coffee waiting for me when I get out of the shower.” “Yes, Master Malfoy,” was all that was heard as Draco shut the door behind him.
He painstakingly folded everything and placed it on the counter as he took it off. “Water.” Draco said as he walked around the glass wall that separated his shower from the rest of his bathroom. He would definitely miss this shower. It was open on one side and had eight shower heads in a row down the wall. He turned his back to the sprays and let the water rush over his silver-blonde hair. At least, he thought, its quiet now. No screams, his dreams were always filled with screams. Sometimes his own. “Soap.” Draco whispered as the nightmares flooded back.
The jets shot a warm, aromatic froth covering him from neck to toe. He forced his thoughts to other things. Legs, breasts, soft skin… Yes, he thought with a slight smile, this is much better.