Falling for a Muggle

Lucius' Demand

Draco had spent the worst summer of his entire life. Back at the Malfoy Manor, everybody seemed angry with him, for some reason, making him feel guilty. His father always looked at him with his cold grey eyes whenever they would run into each other, and would say nothing. The word disapproval was written all over his face. He had never been so hostile towards him in the past, causing Draco to spend hours wondering what was wrong. Had he done something to displease him? But he couldn't think of anything. Although, it should have been easy to avoid him, regarding the size of the manor, they kept bumping into each other, and, unfortunately, Lucius always had his way with people...

If he wanted to make you feel like dirt, he could do so without even saying a single word, but his mother was also avoiding him. Draco was sure that his father had something to do with that. He could blame him for everything, and almost all the times justified. Draco was beginning to feel depressed. He hoped that Lucius wouldn't keep being like this all summer long. Draco was wrong.

It went on for weeks. Draco was beginning to feel disgusted with him, and when he thought this couldn't get any worse, Lucius proved him wrong. And it all started one evening.

*****

Draco had been spending too many hours in his room. If he didn't get out, he'd go mad! He gathered up all his courage. He would go out, even though this meant that he would have to pass through the living room, and his father used to sit there at this time of the day.

What the hell? He was getting used to it! Lucius had become predictable. Draco knew that as long as he kept his mouth shut, everything would be all right, or at least, he thought so. He wouldn't go looking for trouble. If his father decided so, he would start a quarrel.

Draco unlocked the wooden door, and rapidly ran out of his room. His eyes caught a slight movement behind the heavy green curtains in the hallway. Just as he thought... He didn't even bother to search or to go see what that movement was. Predictable again, Lucius had his little house elves spying on him. Draco smiled sadly. He began recollecting his happy days back at Hogwarts. Well, at least there, he was the bully. Now, he had to suffer his father's silent terrorism.

He headed downstairs to find that the lights were on. As he approached the living room through the hallway, he could see the silver lamps, in the shape of serpents, spitting fire. Lucius' taste in decoration... He even insisted on using internal light, even when the sun was still shining. Like a vampire, he was forcing himself and his family to live in the darkness. Draco had started to feel like a complete stranger here, in his own home! Somehow, for the first time in his life, the silver carvings, the austere, gothic decoration seemed ridiculous in his eyes. Everything, from his bed to his socks reflected Lucius' taste, and he never questioned his father. Never, until now, but he didn't dare to do so openly. Maybe, if he entered his study in a Gryffindor uniform one day! No, that would just give him a heart attack, and he would probably survive through it, just to punish his son.

"Draco!" he heard, and Wow, what a surprise! His father was indeed in the living room. Wearing a green silk robe, holding a silver decorated book. He was sitting on a luxurious velvet armchair, with knitted silver snakes. The perfect lifestyle of an arrogant, pureblooded wizard with perfect furniture, expensive clothes... It was obvious. Lucius pretended that he was simply enjoying a quiet afternoon at home, but Draco saw it coming. His father had prepared himself for that.

"Father!" he answered, trying to hide his disappointment. His voice sounded clear. He didn't really feel like getting into a fight right now, but Lucius, like a guarding dog could always smell the fear coming off him, he could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, and if Lucius smelled his fear now, he'd attack, like any beast would do!

"Please sit."

"No thank you, Father. I was actually getting ready to..."

"Please sit, Draco!"

This was not an invitation. Lucius' voice was gentle, but yet, in a way, so cold, so harsh. This was an order, and Draco decided to obey, not that he had another option. The sooner they would get this over with, the sooner he'd be free to leave. He prepared himself for a long pompous speech. Draco sat on the most comfortable sit he could find and waited.

"This will be your last year at school, Draco. Do you know what this means?"

"That it is my last chance to have some fun, before I devote myself to your destructive ambition..." he thought, but this was a father and son conversation. The truth had no place...

"No, father, I don't"

"No, I didn't suppose you would," Lucius familiar disappointed expression reappeared at once. "After all, I cannot be the one to brag about how proud I am of my son because it seems that even muggles have a greater reputation than my heir!"

Lucius' words were poison; slow drops of poison, forced into Draco's veins. Not killing him of course, just torturing him. He hated it when his father referred to him as if he was someone else, a silly worthless boy starring in an indifferent tale.

Pleased at his son's expression, which Draco was unable to hide any more- he continued, "You see, Draco. Being a pureblooded wizard demands a life of certain standards. One must be famous for such a position! Extinguished, highly esteemed! Now, tell me Draco, is there something I have mentioned that could possibly apply to you?"

Draco remained silent, but now, he wasn't so sure he could go on like this. He felt like exploding! And Lucius was holding him down, controlling him.

"Not a single word!" he went on mercilessly. "Well sure, everybody is talking about Harry Potter, and even this Weasley kid is sharing some of his fame! Sidekick? Yes! But also well known! All this I can accept, though. I will simply persuade myself that maybe, my son is not the respectable wizard I tried to raise! But then, Draco, the Granger girl comes to my mind! My son, lower than a mudblood?"

Draco was staring at the floor intensely. If his eyes had any magical powers, he would have set fire on the carpet already. He breathed in angrily, which sounded like a sob to his father, but Draco had predicted that before his father, so he decided to fight him back. OK, if it is war you want, it's war you'll get!

Lucius was staring at him, quite pleased with himself, but then something he didn't predict happened. Draco looked at him calmly and spoke back.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

Lucius wasn't expecting that. He thought he had drained every bit of his son's self-restrain. He really hoped that Draco would just explode, or get really depressed. He had prepared himself for both cases. He would forget his nice manners, and treat his son anyway he pleased, but Draco had proved to be much stronger. Lucius wanted his son to preserve the dark reputation of the family name, but most of all he wanted to hold his son under his control, and now he was losing that.

"I want you to be someone. I want them to talk about you in years to come. I want them to remember you. I want everyone to know who my son is. That is what I want!"

Lucius was shouting. He couldn't restrain himself. He had lost control of himself. Revenge at last! But then, he didn't like seeing his father like this...

Draco stood up. He looked directly into his father's eyes, and he simply said, "All right, father. This year, everyone will start talking about your son. I promise you that." And, as if he just said the most natural thing in the world, he simply turned and left the room.

Lucius was left there, silent, and too upset to react. What had just happened? Draco just left. Without asking for his permission. He just turned his back to him and left!

*****

For the next days, they didn't meet. Draco started feeling that it would be more possible to run into Dobby, their former house elf, than Lucius any more. A heavy silence had fallen into the house. Draco felt it was better that way. He didn't provoke him. He dined in his room and spent most of his time there. Sometimes, he would move the heavy curtains slightly and look outside at the garden, and the scary stone statues. Lucius had locked him outside the house when he was seven. He wanted his son to get over his fears for the monstrous forms that seemed to move at night. So many years had passed, but he still remembered crying all night, scared and alone. In the morning, Lucius had a perfect explanation for all of this. "This happened for his own good..."

Even if he had died in his room, he thought, no one would probably notice for days. Maybe only the elf, who brought his supper...

No.

The house elves had stopped spying on him.

Having nothing better to do, he remained in his room, locking

himself inside, and doing nothing. He didn't even want to think anymore.

Draco only went out, the day he had to leave for school. He had lost his color. He wandered around the dark house as a ghost, finding nobody. He went out, revealing his pale skin to the sunlight. Still hoping that someone would come to him, but neither his father, nor his mother came to see him. Only the house elves that carried his luggage saw for the first time, their young master, sadder that ever, waving at them. Was that goodbye?

Draco left, silently cursing Lucius for depriving him of any bit of pleasant memories, something to grab and remember, a vivid image of a home, not a cold stone house. And as he lost sight of the manor, he felt he was leaving everything behind for good...