Nolo Contendere

Nolo Contendere

Chapter 1

There was darkness.

There was pain.

Draco Malfoy blinked his eyes open cringing at the blinding light. His head pounded in his ears, and his skin chaffed against his clothes most painfully. Whatever his sleep addled mind was trying to tell him could wait, he decided. He needed to get back to blissful unconsciousness before his skull cracked open.

A scream erupted from his lips. His arms were covered in boils, his hands were covered in boils; he was covered in boils!

He sprung to his feet, his body screaming in agony as he did so. Through the haze that settled over his vision, he could make out Goyle and Crabbe coming to. The blond stared at his arms in disbelief; there were putrid looking blisters everywhere, some had already popped open and were leaking an oily pus.

"Bloody Bastards!" he yelled, kicking at a whimpering Goyle. Even that proved to be painful, so instead he slowly made his way out the Hogwarts train. He was going to kill Potter when he got a hold of him. He was going to rip off that cocky head of his and hang it on his bedroom wall! He was going to (slowly, ever so slowly) skin the Weasel and use him as doormat!

He had barely stepped onto the platform, when Pansy Parkinson ran up to him. Draco held up one shaking hand, and silenced her with a look. She had already discarded her school uniform and the loud pink of her dress might just send him over the edge.

"Where's my trunk?" he asked finally.

"Blaise and I took it over to your father when we couldn't find you," she said, peering at him at with concerned brown eyes. Then almost fearfully, she motioned to his skin. "What happened?"

Draco didn't deign to answer her. Instead he was too busy gnawing at his already pain-laced lips. His Father wouldn't appreciate the wait... Did he always have to start summer vacation by angering his Father? Most the students were gone already, only the permanently laggard people like Longbottom and a scattering of Hufflepuffs remained.

"Well, where is he then?" he snapped irritably.

What was the damn girl waiting for? Pansy stammered a bit, her eyes flickering to something behind him. Draco winced, turning around slowly as his insides turned to stone.

"Draco. How nice to see you've made it."

To say he bit his lip hard would be an understatement. He tasted the bitter warmth leaking from the gash in lip. It had been Potter's fault. Honestly! He wasn't lying this time! How many times could Draco claim that? Those foul Gryffindors...

He'd seen those flashes of red hair.... How could he have missed them?

He'd make them pay next year. At the moment there were more important matters to think about, like his Father's angry face looming above his own. His eyes seemed to be flashing dangerously...

Draco knew better than to say a word, so he stood still and stared morosely at the train. His eyes were almost watering from the effort but finally, after what seemed like an eternity; his father turned and walked away.

With a parting glare shot at Pansy's overly concerned face, Draco swept after his father, trying not to visibly cringe from the pain.

~ ~ ~

Not a word passed between them until they entered the mansion's front hall.

"What happened?" Lucius asked, noting that Draco seemed like he was about to explode. His son didn't seem to need any encouragement; he was already shaking with barely suppressed anger.

"It was them, Father! Potter and his hoodlums!" He glossed over the Mudblood's hex; there was no need to make himself look any worse. No, Potter already had that covered. "The room was swarming with Weasleys, Father! It should be illegal for Wizards to mate like that!"

Lucius smirked at his son; the boy was growing up so fast. It seemed as if it was only yesterday Draco was listening to him rant about Mudbloods and Muggle-Lovers. And now, here he was, making enemies of his own.

"How bad is it?" asked Draco. He was trying to catch his reflection in the glass statuette.

Lucius grabbed hold of his son's chin, twisting it this way and that. His gaze was probably lingering longer than necessary as were his fingers but he shrugged it off. Who was he to question himself?

Draco's gray eyes stared into his own, but Lucius couldn't tell what the boy was thinking. He could usually see right through them... But now they were a cloudy sort of gray; closed off and wary. How much had Draco matured at Hogwarts?

Lucius didn't like it at all.

A resounding gong from the grandfather clock snapped him from his reverie. Immediately Lucius dropped his hands and backed away from his son. Draco was looking at him impassively. Obediently.

Lucius mentally cursed, he had nothing to be jumpy for. He hadn't been doing anything wrong. He was just examining the hex marks on his son. Perhaps he was just on edge; there was much to be done today. He had a ridiculous amount of paperwork to do and Draco's disappearing act had set him an hour behind schedule.

"Look Draco, I don't have any time to play nurse for you. Next time try not to be such a failure."

~ ~ ~

Draco winced at his Father's retreating back.

Come next September, he'd make Potter wish he died with those filthy parents of his - the Weasel and his family also. They'd all learn to fear the Malfoy name.

Draco stomped off, silently seething. He needed to find a recipe for a Potion that cured boils.

~ ~ ~

Severus Snape was a quiet person. He was the type of person to sit back and laugh at the world as it spiraled off into hell. Well, he didn't laugh, but smirking and jeering weren't off limit.

He had settled in for a good rest about an hour ago, choosing his old time favorite: Moste Potente Potions. The sniveling little brats were finally out of his hair and would be for another few months.

Today was definitely his favorite day of the year. He could hear the silence ringing throughout the empty dungeons; it was such a relief really. He would be left alone; no one, other than a handful of teachers and Dumbledore, were staying in the castle.

Flipping a page of his tome, he listened to the roar of the fire. It was magical of course, so it didn't need any wood. There was no annoying cracking of wood, therefore, there was no smoke. There was also no coughing in a magical fireplace--There was never any coughing in any sort of fireplace actually. So, what was he hearing?

Snape turned around to see a very disgruntled Draco Malfoy emerging from his fireplace.

"Professor, don't you clean this thing?" asked an irate Draco, brushing soot off his robes. He walked towards the Potions Master passing through the flickering of torchlight. Snape merely raised an eyebrow at the interruption and set his book down. Fate had a hobby of spoiling any time he found to relax.

"What happened to you?"

It was obviously a sore subject because the blond boy clenched his fists tightly, only to yelp and release them with a great POP! sound. Draco cradled his abused hand to his chest, scowling in the general direction of the Professor.

"It was those bloody Gryffindors," he muttered, eyes flickering but also downcast. "They ganged up on me, Greg and Vincent."

"I suppose you'd like me to brew you a remedy?" Snape asked, already abandoning his chair and all hopes of a quiet evening. He heard Draco murmur an agreement, and so he set about collecting the necessary ingredients.

"I was actually just going to ask to borrow some Asphodel, but if you insist," responded Draco as he gingerly placed himself on the armchair Snape had just vacated.

Snape supposed that he brought it on himself. He had been the one to offer Draco access to his private quarters. Then again, with a father like Lucius, he supposed Draco would need all the help he could get. Not to mention he was one of the only damn students who knew how to concoct a simple potion.

He sighed. No, it didn't come a surprise that Lucius would leave Draco to get rid of the boils on his own. Not much could surprise the Potions' Master nowadays.

Or so he thought.

~ ~ ~

Draco paused at a particularly gruesome picture and sniggered. This book was a delightful read. He'd have to see if there was a copy in the library.

"Drink this." came the Professor's voice from directly behind him.

Draco turned looking decidedly innocent and accepted the Goblet from the outstretched hands before him.

"It shouldn't hurt."

The blond complied, gulping down the nastier than normal liquid and watching his boils disappear back into smooth unflawed skin. Draco smiled, leaning back into a more comfortable position.

"That's much better, sir. Thank you."

Draco watched as his Professor massaged his temples and scowled at the large clock overhead. It was nearly time for dinner, but Draco had another two hours before he needed to be back home.

"Now that you're better, make me something to get rid of this headache," Snape said, purposely snatching the book out of his hands, and looking down at him pointedly. Draco stared at him balefully for a moment but then decided he might as well. He'd need to keep up with his practicing if he wanted to keep his lead over that Granger bint.

He took his sweet time getting up but when he finally reached the cauldron he went straight to work. He'd already memorized the ingredients from watching Snape brew it countless times.

He'd never be as good as Snape but he sure as hell would be giving him a run for his money, he decided. He could chop up ingredients like a charm (although having personal Gryffindors to do it for was just so much more amusing) and measuring ingredients carefully was almost a second nature to him.

A dash of standard ingredients, a generous helping of his own, and a lot of stirring later, Draco was done. He let the potion cool down as he washed the instruments in a nearby sink. Hearing the splashing water, Snape stood and approached the table.

Draco fingering the clasp of his robes absentmindedly watching as the Professor sniffed the Potion then swallowed it whole. At first he licked his lips questioningly, then he looked at the goblet, and then he stared at Draco incredulously.

"What did you add?"

"I don't know how you can go on drinking that muck," responded Draco. "My father said you were never one for taking small comforts but really now. You're acting repressive."

Snape didn't react outwardly, except for a minor flash of his eyes. Draco missed it though as he was too busy toweling his hands dry.

"I suppose you should go, Draco," responded the Professor, smoothing over the lapse in conversation. Draco nodded and eyed the fireplace dreadfully. He really did hate Flooing.

"See you next time, Professor." Draco said, distastefully eyeing the Fireplace as he threw a handful of Floo powder in. He stepped in and choking back a mouthful of ash said, "The Library."

~ ~ ~

No less that 5 minutes after he had spoken to Blaise, a tall and slender boy of 15 stepped out of his fireplace. Draco sat up from his bed and looked at him warily.

"You said you wanted something?"

Blaise was too busy examining the room to hear him. He had immediately walked past Draco and to his right hand wall, there was a large mirror almost reaching from wall to wall. His reflection was Tsking at his hair (which was slighter longer than Draco's) but he ignored it completely.

Tapping the glass, he watched as the mirror swung open to reveal spacey walk in closet. They all looked crisp and ironed and they probably were too. He shut the door and watch as it concealed itself again. Then Blaise was struck with an idea. He looked at Draco's bed, a king sized one and looked back at the mirror. He let out a low whistle.

"I need to shag here." He finally glanced at Draco. "We need to shag here. Now."

"I didn't know you knew the Imperius" Draco retorted. "Now, what was so important?"

No sooner than the words had left Draco's lips, Blaise's had occupied them. Though he was slender, he was not light, and definitely not when airborne. Draco's knees buckled under his weight and soon enough Blaise had (quite comfortably) settled in top of the blond boy's body.

Draco hadn't responded to his advances though and finally he broke away.

"What?" he asked waspishly. "Not in the mood?"

"You happen to be sitting on me if you hadn't noticed."

Blaise sighed; Draco acted if he had a wand shoved up his arse. He stared into steelish-gray eyes before relenting. They'd never get anywhere if this kept up. So, he rolled over and sank into the mattress, staring at Draco expectantly. To his dismay Draco smirked.

"Why would I want anything to do with you?" he asked, sitting up and staring down at the hazel haired boy. Blaise shouldn't have been surprised, Draco usually played these games unless he was in exceptionally randy mood. He could kill the Malfoy for not putting out. Draco was so damn sexy he should've been stamped as public property.

"'Cause you're sexy and I'm nubile?" He asked hopefully, fluttering his lashes. Draco snorted sexily (somehow only he could pull this off) and leaned in to capture Blaise's lips.

Once again, Blaise tried to undo the buttons of Draco's robes and his hands had been swatted them away for the last time. There was always some other night and there was always alcohol if Draco didn't give in anytime soon. Blaise growled and attacked Draco's lips with a new fervor.

Yes, he'd try that next time.

~ ~ ~

In Lucius' opinion, meals at the Malfoy Mansion were becoming an increasingly unpleasant thing.

For the most part there was silence. Lucius usually just sat and ate, keeping to his own thoughts - it was something he usually did. The person that actually held the conversation was Narcissa, and lately she had been trying her best but neither Draco nor Lucius would respond to her attempts.

Draco would too busy staring at his plate and rearranging his food and Lucius would be too busy wondering why Draco was being so moody all of a sudden. At first he assumed that it was about Draco being hexed but it didn't end. In fact, there was no ending in sight and Narcissa wasn't helping at all.

So, with that in mind, Lucius made his way to Draco's room.

Which turned out to be a very, very bad idea indeed.

~ ~ ~

Narcissa had known all along of course - She had a knack for these sort of things. When she had first met Lucius she knew he swung both ways. Snape had been a bit harder to read, but Lucius had given it away when he had first introduced them.

Sometime during the last year Draco had brought home a girl that had reminded Narcissa of a house elf: simply vile. She'd been clingy, simpering and completely fake. Oh Mrs. Malfoy this, Mrs. Malfoy that. She'd been preparing a discreet way to tell Draco he was to dump her or else, but it hadn't been necessary. Narcissa had only made an off-hand comment and Draco had sent her packing at once.

She'd been thinking from then on about Draco being gay. Then Draco had gone off with another classmate, a male by the name of Blaise Zambini. Narcissa found this development much more to her liking. From bits and pieces that Draco had said (her son could ramble on forever; she loved every moment of it) she learned that there was no feelings involved and she couldn't have been more proud. Her little boy was growing up.

Ten minutes ago a House Elf had informed her there was a visitor in Draco's chambers. At first Narcissa had been annoyed, Draco should have informed her he would be having guests. So she went to the West Wing, expecting to meet this visitor and offer them to stay for dinner.

She reached Draco's room but froze when she heard a low tenor voice say "we need to shag" in a low tenor voice. She quickly turned around and retraced her steps. She supposed she could wait to meet the visitor after all.

Just as she rounded the corner, she heard a knocking. Shocked, she turned to see Lucius standing impatiently at Draco's door. He knocked again then tried the doorknob: it was locked. Narcissa was about to interrupt, but she stopped herself at the last moment.

It was time for Lucius to find out. Otherwise he'd blame her for not telling him and that was just irksome; for some reason he failed to see the ease of actually talking to Draco about personal things.

She watched as Lucius took out his wand, tapped the doorknob and pushed the door open. Narcissa could have sworn she saw him choke and blush- she couldn't remember seeing anything that amusing for a while and probably wouldn't see it again. She stifled a laugh and waited for Lucius to move.

She was waiting for a while however, because Lucius merely stood and watched wide eyed. Finally he closed the door and leaned against the wall panting and blushing as if he'd run a mile.

Narcissa left quietly after that, her emotions warring.