The Exploits of the Fabulous Draco Malfoy

Chapter 3 - The Gay Slytherin Prefect

Draco knew something was very wrong indeed when he entered the main foyer to find both his parents sitting on the edge of the water sculpture, waiting.

"We need to talk to you, Draco."

Yep, something was DEFINITELY wrong. Draco went through his usual internal debate of whether to use his all-purpose confession speech or to wait and see what he had been caught at. Perhaps Macnair had hinted to his father about that amusing episode involving Fillibuster Fireworks and lemon drops. Draco started to smirk, but caught himself at the last moment. For the time being, he decided it would be best to play innocent.

"Of course, Mother. You know I always enjoy our tête-à-têtes."

There was a long silence as Draco's parents exchanged looks. He noticed that his father was looking rather green.

"Father, are you quite well? You're looking a bit peaked."

"I'm a failure," Lucius groaned.

"There, there, dear," Narcissa cooed. "Remember what I told you."

Draco raised one carefully plucked eyebrow. He couldn't think what he had possibly done to reduce his father to this state. Perhaps they had gone bankrupt? Deciding it would be best to steer clear of whatever it was that had caused his parents such distress, he resolved to change the subject without delay.

"So, Pansy and I had a charming time in Diagon Alley today," he announced, pointedly ignoring his father's swooning. "I very nearly bought a silver and emerald wizard chess set that just arrived at Gambol's. It was simply fabulous!"

He saw his parents exchange THAT look again. Perhaps they HAD gone bankrupt!

"Speaking of Pansy," his mother began hesitantly, "is there something you want to tell us?"

"Well, she's not pregnant, if that's what you mean," Draco huffed indignantly. He thought perhaps he heard his father mumble something about that being the last of his worries at the moment.

"Honestly, mum, what sort of books are you reading these days?"

"I give up!" Lucius blurted. "What do you want, a Quidditch pitch in the backyard?"

"Sweetheart, let me handle this," Narcissa interrupted. "Draco, baby, is there something you want to tell us? About your... relationships?"

"Oh, just say it, Narcissa!" Lucius hollered. "Our son's a poof!"

Draco's calm expression dissolved into one of utter incredulity. How on earth could they know? There was no way they could have... Then he noticed the "Death Eater's Handbook" clutched in his father's trembling hand.

"You read my diary?!" he shrieked before he could stop himself.

"At least call it a journal," bawled Lucius. "Are you punishing me? Do want me to cut back on my work hours? What? Just tell me! I'll give you whatever you want!"

Draco's shock gave way suddenly to anger. He was a Malfoy. People didn't bribe him; he bribed them!

"Lucius, your blood pressure! Remember, this is probably just a phase and we can sort though it as a family."

A phase?! Draco had never been more insulted in all his life -- and that was saying something.

"It is most certainly not a phase!" Draco spluttered with as much dignity as possible given the circumstances. "I cannot deny what I am, Mother, though I am sorry you had to find out about it in this manner. If you cannot handle the fact that I love other men and still accept me as your son, then I shall be forced to reexamine my place in this family." He found that the speech rolled easily off his tongue, and sent a silent thanks to Pansy for forcing him to practice it.

"Mother, Father, I love you both dearly, but my loyalties must be to myself. Would it be fair to ask me to live a life of deceit, denying the truth that I know in my heart? No! You could no more ask that of me than I could ask you to live as a muggle! It's preposterous!" Draco found he was beginning to enjoy this. His parents, in their present catatonic state were making an excellent audience. He briefly considered summoning more house-elves to fill out the crowd.

"I am not alone in this affliction," Draco continued theatrically. "Many illustrious persons have lived lives fraught with the same prejudice that I now face. Some say the Dark Lord himself is a leading advocate for the acceptance of wizards of non-traditional sexual orientation. I thought you, as my doting parents, would be sympathetic to my plight." Draco bowed his head, trying to make himself look both piteous and heroic.

Lucius, taking this to be the end of the oration -- at least for the time being -- roused himself enough to reply, "Draco, you are my only son and heir. If this truly is the lifestyle you've chosen, I promise to try to understand, and even be as supportive as possible. But... but... WHY WEASLEY?!"

Draco was slight taken aback. He had only written a rough draft for this section of the speech.

"Lucius," Narcissa asked suspiciously, "what does Weasley have to do with this?"

"Nothing that you need concern yourself with, dear."

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Of course not, dear. What would I have to hide from you?"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Do you WANT me to answer that?"

Lucius gulped. "It's not important..."

"Lucius Malfoy, you tell me this instant!"

Draco was secretly glad for the argument, as it gave him time to rehearse the remainder of his diatribe. Quietly, he summoned several house-elves, thinking he might need them later.

"What exactly was in that diary?" Narcissa demanded, looming over her husband, who was now backed up against the banister.

"Draco's in love with Weasley!"

"That obnoxious one from the Ministry?"

"No, the Potter-loving one!"

"But I thought Draco was gay?"

"Honestly, Mother!" Draco interrupted. "Ron! I'm in love with Ron!"

"Draco, how could you?!" she admonished. "I mean, being gay is one thing, but a Weasley? They might as well have placed you in Hufflepuff!"

For the second time that day Draco found himself feeling more insulted than he had ever been in his life.

"Now, Narcissa," Lucius stated, seeming to have gained something of the composure that his wife had so recently lost, "my son may be a lot of things, but he is most assuredly a Slytherin."

"That's right!" Draco shouted proudly. "I'm a gay Slytherin prefect!"

With this declaration, Draco's parents, who seemed to have nearly forgotten him in all the commotion, turned as one to their wayward son. Draco decided that it was time for him to reclaim the podium, so to speak.

"I do not expect you to understand the purity of my affections," he articulated, as a string quartet of house-elves began a stirring accompaniment. "Do you think it was easy for me when I first discovered that I, a Malfoy, had bestowed my heart upon a Weasley? I have anguished, and I have striven in vain to control these emotions, but alas!" He threw his hand to his forehead, as if he were about to swoon. Several house-elves applauded.

"I will make no excuses, and I will not hide behind shame. I love a Weasley! And I will stand by my words, though Voldemort himself doth bar the way!" With that, he turned and flounced out of the room, his robes swirling behind him.

"Would you do something about your godforsaken son?" Narcissa sighed.

"You mean OUR godforsaken son, dear."