Draco Malfoy's Secret

Draco's Secret

Draco Malfoy was nervous. He hated to admit it (even to himself) but as he got up to go to the toilet for the sixth time on the train ride back to London at the Christmas holidays it became rather obvious. His only small relief was the fact that Potter, Granger and the Weasel were all staying at Hogwarts, so there was no way he'd run into them during one of his excursions.

The reason the ice cool Malfoy was nervous was because he had decided the time had come to tell his father something. Something Draco was positive Lucius wouldn't like. Draco Malfoy was gay.

Lucius stood, tall and proud on Platform 9 ¾. He didn't bother to look round for his son, and whenever a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw came near him he stepped in the opposite direction, and brandished his fancy staff at them. The only reason he was collecting his fifth year son, he reminded himself, was because Draco's nanny from when he was a baby had had the nerve to walk out! And over something so petty...Lucius couldn't even remember what it was. Not that he wanted her back - oh no. He'd advertise in the Daily Profit perhaps, and a number of young women would come to his gates wanting to work for a family with such prestige. Perhaps he ought to put on an age limit, 18 to 30...?

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius saw Draco descend off the train. Without showing Draco he'd seen him, (he looked with disgust at one women waving madly and hugging her children when they were hardly off the train) Lucius motioned for a bellboy standing near him to see to the blond boy's luggage. A Malfoy should never carry his own luggage.

Draco looked around cautiously for his nanny. He was about to give up when a bellboy in a bright crison uniform with gold stitching (Gryffindor colours, thought Draco with disgust) rushed over to him and lifted his bags. Draco followed him, wondering why it was a stranger and not his nanny, Louella, doing the heavy work.

The bellboy took Draco to a luggage trolley, and then over to...his dad? But, he hadn't worked out what to say! Had he guessed? Where was Louella?

Snapping back into his usual self, Draco suppressed the anxious voice, and greeted his father formally and calmly. Neither expressed joy about Draco being 'home'. Wanting to ask about Louella, Draco bit his tongue until he and his father were seated in the back of their chauffeur driven Mercedes.

"So, father, why did you pick me up today?" asked Draco, keeping his eyes down like he'd been taught to around his father.

"Your nanny, (Lucius had always referred to Louella as 'Draco's nanny'. Only once in his life had Draco heard his father call her by name, and that was when he was in a fit of rage) has cast aside her role as your servant. We will be advertising for a new carer immediately. Do hurry up, boy," Lucius turned his back on his only son and strode out of the train station, avoiding any Muggles with a look of pure disgust on his face. He reached the chauffeur driven black Limo, and gracefully swept himself inside. Draco did the same, and the Malfoy's chauffeur, Tom, drove swiftly out of the train station car park, jumping neatly to the front of a queue at a traffic light.

"So. How was school?" asked Lucius, his face contorted in such a way that Draco imagined this half hearted attempt at friendliness was costing his face a few years of his life. Draco decided to put his father out of his misery, and kept his answer short and sweet.

"Fine. Granger and I are joint top of the year."

"Granger...Mudblood Granger?" asked Lucius.

"Yeah."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"A Mudblood is beating my son - a pureblood at his studies!" Lucius' voice was growing louder, and Draco fought down the urge to squirm. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Sorry, father."

"You will be." The rest of the ride to Malfoy Manor was silent.

Draco was in his grand bedroom, fuming. After the tense ride home he had gone to his bedroom to unpack. When Draco had been made a Slytherin, his room had been painted green and silver, a constant reminder (in his eyes) of what his father expected of him. This had been fine with him for the first four years of his school life, but now Draco was sixteen, and he had his own mind. And Draco didn't want to become a Death eater.

The reason Draco was fuming was partly because of his father, but mostly himself. Lucius' aloof attitude hardly bothered him at all anymore; he was used to it. No, Draco was mostly angry because he had had his father to himself for almost an hour and a half and he'd still chickened out of telling him that he was gay. What was he scared of? He asked himself. Not getting beaten, Draco was a very fast runner and could usually avoid any Muggle type beating, if his father ever resorted to that. He considered it vulgar.

Hexes? Curses? Maybe, but Lucius had trained him well in Dark curses, and Lupin's Duelling Club over the past term had only helped. Draco was pretty sure he could hold his own in a duel, even though Lucius had much more experience.

No, even after all these years of not caring, Draco had to admit the truth to himself. He didn't want what his father wanted, but still he wanted to please him. He didn't want to let him down. He was his father after all. Draco sighed and hung up a pair of black Hogwarts robes in his wardrobe.

The day was Boxing Day. The time was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the place was Lucius' study. As Draco stood in the doorway, hesitating over whether or not to knock, Lucius spun round on his chair and fixed his son with a cold stare. Draco returned it. Mutual hatred. In a way.

"Yes?" asked Lucius, his tone short and irritable.

"I need to tell you something." Draco strode into the room and sat down opposite his father. On the outside he looked perfectly normal. Draco Malfoy - ice king. On the inside, it felt as if his intestines were tied in a not and his stomach had just taken up tap dancing.

"Well? What is it? I don't have all day."

Draco decided to just come right out and say it. If he needed an escape route, he had the window to his left and the door right behind him. Inside his robes, his hand clutched tightly at his wand. "I'm gay."

For a minute Lucius sat absolutely still, and the thought crossed Draco's mind that he'd been hit with a Freezing Charm, but then he seemed to thaw out and his mouth broke into the first sincere smile Draco had ever seen on it. In fact, it was more like a...grin.

"My dear boy, you can't be serious! I've got a treat for you tonight, now go upstairs like a good boy," as Draco left them room, amazed that he didn't even have a scratch on him, he thought he could hear his father start humming. Scary.

That night, Draco dressed in a pair of black trousers and a green shirt, then threw his new dress robes (a very stylish silver and green ensemble) over the top. He grabbed his black cloak and descended the wide oak staircase into the Entrance Hall. There, his father was waiting for him, his long blond hair in a ponytail and a black cloak round his shoulders.

"Hurry up, Draco. We'll be late! Goodbye, Narcissa," said Lucius and walked out to the car, calling back to his wife half hidden by shadows. Draco looked over his shoulder at his mum, smiled, and hurried after his father. Draco still didn't know what this 'surprise' was, but with his father so cheerful, he wasn't looking forward to it.

The black limo drew up outside a magical bar, with flashing lights and thumping music. Outside were three men, one being sick and the other two holding him up. On the other side of the door was a black haired hooker, called, according to her business cards 'Leandra'. Posted on the door was a large notice, proclaiming in large black letters - OVER 18'S ONLY. When Draco saw this he stopped walking, but his father pushed him on, whispering in his ear that he looked eighteen. Draco nodded, and they passed the doorman with no questions asked.

As soon as Draco had taken one step into the club, the crowd swept him away until he could no longer see his father. "What do ya want?"

Draco looked round and realised he was at the bar, and the bartender had been talking to him. "Uh, a beer, please," he replied, figuring he may as well enjoy himself. The bartender handed an opened bottle over, and Draco placed four sickles on the bar top before moving away quickly. He soon found himself in the midst of a group of people dancing. A girl with red curls sidled over and took his free hand.

"Hi!" she shouted. "I'm Nicole!"

"Draco!" he replied, straining to be heard over the club mix.

"Want to go talk?" she asked, indicating an empty table over in the corner. It looked quieter there, and darker. Draco nodded to show his approval and they made their way over. Clubs weren't really Draco's scene. It was hard to be cool, confident and sexy when you were bellowing your lungs out into someone's ear.

"Ah! This is better," said Nicole settling onto a well-stuffed sofa. "Come sit with me," she asked, patting the seat next to her when Draco had made to sit across from her. Reluctantly, he agreed. "How old are you, Draco?"

"Um, eighteen, why do you ask?"

"Just making conversation. Unless you don't want conversation..." she asked slyly, slipping one leg over his until she was sitting astride him.

"Um, no, conversation is just fine thanks," Draco faltered, trying to push her off him.

"Aww, is ickle Drakie a little shy?" she asked making no attempt to move. She twirled her fingers in his slightly shaggy blond hair and leaned forward to kiss him. At this point he'd had enough. With an almighty push that made good use of his Quidditch muscles, he heaved the girl off him and drew his wand.

"Obliviate!" A flash of light was emitted from his wand, though nobody noticed it in the flashing lights of the disco. Nicole sat up and looked at Draco.

"Mmm, who are you?" she asked. "And, uh, who am I?"

"Your name is Nicole. I'm an axe murderer." He left.

Draco was waiting outside the club, appropriately named 'The Boozer' finishing his beer. After about two hours, just when Draco was beginning to consider walking the eight miles home, Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the club.

"Ready to go home?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Yes." Draco replied shortly, annoyed at his father. Lucius clicked his fingers and the chauffeured limo appeared next to them. "After you," he told his father who swept into the car in his usual manner.

"So, Draco, did you enjoy tonight?"

"No."

"Why not?" Almost genuine concern showed on Lucius' face.

"I told you this afternoon that I am gay!" shouted Draco. "So you take me to a club to 'cure' me of this 'illness'? Are you crazy?" Draco had never shouted at his father like this. Draco had never shouted at anyone like this. The last time he'd lost his cool was probably when he was a baby and his nappy had needed changing. During Draco's tirade, Lucius sat staring straight ahead, with a face of stone. When Draco finally fell silent, he spoke.

"Well Draco. You're a true Malfoy man, now."

"Huh?"

"I think you mean, pardon?"

"Whatever."

"All right then. I mean, Draco and listen carefully, we Malfoy men have a secret. Have had a secret for as long as anyone knows. Draco, we are all gay."

"Wh - what? But you - mum -"

"Yes well to keep the line going we need to mate, don't we? Pass on these excellent characteristics! Can hardly do that with a man. I must say, boy, you took a long time figuring it out. Most of us knew we were homosexual by second year at Hogwarts...you wait until fifth year! Fifth year!"

"Uh, you're saying all of us are homosexual?"

"Oh, yes. One more question, we're nearly home and I still have some work to do - who made you realise you were gay?"

"Made me realise? Well, that was - that was Harry Potter."