Blonde and Blue

For the first time in over twelve years, Draco entered Malfoy Manor to the sound of a piano; the rich, strong quality of the music overpowered him, and within seconds he had dropped his bag on the ground in the foyer for the nearest house elf to remove. It was beautiful music, and with each step he took towards the drawing room, the sound penetrated further into his mind. It was heaven, almost.

At the far side of the drawing room was Narcissa Malfoy, and the humongous piano. It had been there for all of Draco’s life, but it had been more than a decade since it was played. Now, his mother’s blonde hair cascaded down her back as she moved slightly in time to the piece.

When she stopped, he clapped four times, grinning.

She jumped and turned to face him. He was expecting a smile, but her clear blue eyes were oddly empty, and her mouth set in a slight frown. Draco leaned against the doorframe, his grey eyes piercing her to the heart, and he did not take the opportunity to smile.

“Excellent playing, mother. It’s a shame you stopped playing when I was three.” The smile that now crept onto his face was sarcastic, daring her to say anything.

She met his gaze steadily, eyes like blue-hot flame. “Lucius did not allow it,” she said, standing at the velvet piano bench.

“Oh, mother,” said Draco, stretching absent-mindedly. “Not that old excuse again? I would expect a woman of your age and intellect to have some better reasons than that.” He smiled again, eyes shining maliciously.

She was in front of him now, just in front of him. He grinned yet again, harshly, the same sideways smile Lucius had.

“You look so much like your father,” she said breathlessly, dragging a fine, bony finger down his right cheek.

He barely inclined his head at the comment, the compliment, the insult. The lopsided grin was still in place, eyes shining, hair glowing in the dim candlelight.

“So like your father.” There was an awkward pause, and sometime during it, it occurred to Draco that she was much too close. He put a hand on her slim shoulders, edging her back, but he was already against the wall.

“Shh, Lucius,” she breathed in his ear. The warmth of her breath tingling on his cheek unnerved him.

“Mother, I-”

“Hush,” she said gently, still closer to him. “It’s been so long, Lucius. So long since we-”

“Mum!” he said, shocking even himself. His parents had long forbidden the use of the names ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’.

She studied him for a moment, unhearing of his protests.

And then she kissed him, kissed him as passionately as she had once kissed Lucius, pinning him against the wall with her bony hands, and he did not do anything. Oh, he could have easily pushed her off, but there was something sickly intriguing about the touch of her tongue on his own, the feel of her hands in his short hair, and something horribly pleasant about the effects she was having on his nether regions. He kissed back.

He was wild, wild with some sort of crazed lust as he allowed her to lead him back to Malfoy Manor’s master bedroom, allowed himself to be undressed and taken to the bed. He did not allow himself to do what came next…it was his own choice.

They were both nude, still on top of the covers, and she was willingly thrusting herself at him. In the back of his mind, he perhaps knew it was wrong, but caught up in the moment, pleasure always succeeds in overtaking pain.

He seized her by the hair and she rode him, their sweat intermingling, until he came, and she stopped moaning. He licked between her breasts, sucked her hard, pink nipples, ran his fingers into the silken skin between her legs; kissed her. He immersed his fingers in the short, curly white blonde hairs that guarded her cowrie shell of pleasure. He let her mouth find his throbbing body, and they fell asleep naked, sprawled on top of each other, matching shades of pale skin and blonde hair mixing until there was no end and no beginning.

*

He awoke the next morning in shock. He had never slept in his parent’s bed before, and as the morning sun polished his skin, he was reminded that he never slept naked. Something odd was going on, he knew, but he could not remember. He rolled over onto his side and hit something, something soft and pale.

“Mother?” he asked in distress, viewing her unclothed body beside his own. What was going on? What had happened last night?

She turned over to face him, her lipstick all smudged, hair a great mess. She smiled at him. “Lucius…”