Enissophobia

Title:Enissophobia

Chapter: The Will

Lucius Malfoy hated every crack in the door, every cobweb in the corner and every dust - covered floor that swept across his manor. He couldn't stand his once loved Dark artifacts, loathed the estate and detested the acres he owned. He became ill towards the furnishings of the manor and could not stand the aura it provided- a dark, strange atmosphere the would constantly remind you of Him, like a hammer constantly pounding a nail that stubbornly refused to go in the wood.

Oblivious to the unhappiness inside the manor, the wizarding world continued to celebrate to final defeat of Lord Voldemort and the fatal battle that ended the long threat. Relief swelled across the globe. It was almost a year since the War, and just as long since the fall of the Death Eaters.

All captured Death Eaters were forced into something worse than Azkaban itself - exile from the Wizarding world. Their wands were snapped in half and all the money in their Gringotts accounts went to reconstuction. They were left with nothing, and several men were too proud too leave, and had comitted suicide. Others left quietly, heads bowed in shame and hate, carrying only their clothes on thier backs. But not the Malfoys. The Malfoys never got caught, they were too charitable. At least it appeared that way and to the Malfoys, appearence could make or break you. The Ministry wouldn't even listen to the famous Harry Potter's plea, begging them to check out the manor. It was, of course, denied, despite the fact the Potter freed the Magical World of Voldemort and his minions.

However, that had all been a year ago and was futile to discuss, although for the following months after the final battle the Daily Prophet had a field day with the 'Rich Confessions: Lucuis Malfoy, A Death Eater?' and, the popular one, 'Malfoy Donates Big Bucks to Death Eaters Under English Minister of Magic's Nose'. Lucius was sick of his responsibilites nowadays. In truth, Lucius wanted little more than a glass of brandy and time to congradulate himself on his life achievements. Family wealth, the superior ranks, and on his good days, his son.

Pride was Lucius's biggest sin, all of his other misdoings were derived from that. To Mr.Malfoy there was nothing better than being the best man in the room, and even in his death he wanted to be respected. Or feared. However, if the family name became tainted, in Lucius's eyes, by dirty blood or his successors failures - that pride would be gone, the family name disgraced, or worse, forgotten. Along with his death, Lucius also thought of who he would name his primary heir.

The only candidates were, of course, Draco and his only three cousins, Reeve Malfoy, Blake Malfoy, and his sister Londen Malfoy. They were all single and none had any children. Legitimate children. Lucius wasn't aware of any girlfriends or boyfriends that his nephews and niece might have, but he knew that his son certainly hadn't a sturdy relationship with anyone. Ever. Draco and his cousins were not the only surviving Malfoys, but the others were results from Lucius and his two brother's many affairs, and they were bastards, unfit to clean the Malfoy Manor, let alone own it.

Lucius, sitting in his curtain drawn study, seated in a black high-backed chair and his elbows leaning on a mahogandy desk, put his face in his hands, wondering how the hell his son had become a man whore.(Lucius refused to believe that his mistresses, who he called Draco's nannies, were the cause.) His nephews weren't any better- the last he heard was that Reeve, who was twenty five now, had bought his sixth strip club, the third in London (this city, unlike his cousin, who spelled her name with an "e") and the rest were in Liverpool. All Muggle, possibly the only Malfoy to ever have such strong Muggle ties.

Blake Malfoy, now twenty three, was a wizard attorney- a criminal attorney who rarely had to go to court since he wasn't any good. Blake Malfoy was a low scale lawyer, a joke. He drank constantly and would close drug deals with Reeve's clubbers. His sister, Londen Malfoy, a year younger than Draco at twenty, well, Lucuis had no idea and was afraid to ask. If he asked, he'd say a successful writer, but he was pretty sure she worked as a temptress in Magical Venice, Italy, for a lure to an underground auction.

His face stayed in his hands. What a pathetic excuss for a family, and his two brothers couln't do a thing about it, bringing their children up as rich, snobby brats. But he couldn't say much, either. But his son has a real job, and that was something.

Draco had been quite cross with him recently, slitting his eyes and smirking. It was enough to slap him, which he used to do to Draco when his was younger. But then Lucuis smacked Draco around because he could. And when Lucius had an excuse, he wouldn't. He knew his son was poweful and it would be one hell of a fight if the two were to have it out.

Draco was angry at his father because of Lucius' unfinished will - it left out the who the large sum of money and the mammoth estate would go to. He wasn't even leaving Draco his mother's estates and cottages. Draco believed, since it was his birthright, that he should inherit everything he owned.Without question.

Lucius couldn't blame him- he knew he'd expect the same, especially if he was the only child. However Lucius's money was self made, his family had always been powerful and affuent with both the Ministry and other, darker organizations, and by no means poor, but the Malfoys had not been sickenly wealthy (as they liked it) for several generations, when a great - grandfather willed all of his money to be buried with him. Until Lucius.

Lucius was having different thoughts, knowing what would happen if he did leave it all to Draco, even his late mother's summer house in Paris. Draco was an excellent business man and wouldn't spend the money like crazy. However, he'd party day and night, use power to manipulate people and slaughter them if blackmail didn't work. Lucius would have approved a few years ago. But he didn't wish to see his son go the same route that he went, gratified but very alone in the end.

Plus, he didn't want to give Draco something that would, surely, encourage him to mess around with even more slutty women, as Draco had a tendency to do. Lucius desperatly wanted the Malfoy line to continue, and he wanted his hard work to be recongnized. And he wanted the Malfoys to mantain their respect- something that would fail, if Lucius chose the wrong man. Even the smartest of men could be ruined by pouty lips and flawless legs, if they were easy enough to open. A woman like that certainly wouldn't want to bear a child and ruin her figure. Even so, the reputation would have already been destoryed and the publicity damage would be irreversable. The public would think of the Malfoys as skanks, and they wouldn't care if another was born.

A groan escaped from Lucius. This would happen, he knew it, whether he gave his estate and legacy to Reeve, Blake or Draco, either would fuck it up. And to give something this enormous to a young woman full of desires such as Londen? Never. Men boasted about how they ruled they world, but it truth women were the ones with the power. Women could create wars and then end them with smiles, caresses and words passed late at night. Lucius knew that and as such it was doubly important that the wives not only be beautiful, obedient, and pureblooded, but also levelheaded and loyal to the family. London was only two of these things. And so the four heir apparents were slimmed to three, and only then if one met the right woman Lucius would approve of, then...

Lucius whipped out a piece of parchment and a quill to record all his thoughts. The first to take a respectful bride, the contrct would approve or disapprove according to Lucius's indications, and to produce another legitimate member of the Malfoy line through pregnancy would inherit the estate and money.

He smiled in victory. He knew that the kids would eat it up. He took out three more pieces of parchment- he'd invite Londen, too, althought the contract didn't apply to her. He'd invite her for the simple pleasure of watching her rage. Draco, of course, would already be here. He would be outraged, but that was life. Lucius sent the three owls off that night, hoping they'd return by morning with a reply. He smirked that classic smirk he'd passed to his son (without contracts) and prepared his will papers.

Draco sneered at the mere thought of his cousins vistiting. He first saw them ten minutes ago for the first time in years. He had left them in his father study, where his father was absent and was no where to be found within the house, and Lucius wasn't even close to be senile. Too bad, too, for Draco, for if he was this house would be his.

He still had no idea what this sudden meeting was about, except for what his cousins knew. Only that it was about his father's will. Draco didn't like that, despite the fact that he was invited - he didn't like to share, nor did he like people touching his things. He suspected Lucius was doing this partly for spite - apparently it ran in the family. Draco turned the corner, leaving the west wing on the second floor. He gave up, having already searching the entire manor and there was no trace of his stubborn father. Draco guessed that he did this for a grand entrance of some sort.

He opened the door to the North Wing, leading to a large entrance room with persian rugs and a large, green leather chair with sliver clasps. The waiting room was lighten by a chandiler haging dead center of the ceiling over the persian rug, covering the black hard marble floors. The sofa was facing towards the back as you came in, which was only about two feet away from the North Wing door. In front of the couch was the large circular persian rug with the chandlier hanging over it. Ahead of that was a simple yet elegant oak desk, the chair facing the couch. Behing the chair to the desk was another stair way, leading to Lucius' study on the thrid and final floor. His study was the only room on the floor- it was really the Manor's attic, but, to make it sound more elaborate, they called it the study.

Draco hesitated. Did he really want to go back up there to sit with his cousins? No, of course he didn't. He couldn't stand them. Contradicting himself, he passed the desk and went up anyways.

Four chairs were set out in front of his father's desk, all but one occupied. All three turned their heads upon Draco's entrance, then turned back, bored and disappointed. "Can't find him," Draco said flatly, taking his chair, which was at the right end, and scooting it a bit away from the beautiful but fierce Londen Malfoy. She scared him.

Londen upheld the Malfoy traits, none of them faultering in any way. It was rather creepy. The Malfoys had a monopoly of characterists that nobody could quite put their finger on, and Londen proved it. No doubt her father wasn't afriad to show her off, despite his foolishly high standerds. Her long, dark, almost black hair fell right to her lower back, straight until the ends, which delicatly curled. She wore a backless dress, halter style, which fell to her ankles. The dress revealed all curves, all in the correct places. It was only stereotypical, and true that she was a complete bitch.

All of the Malfoy children had gone to Durmstang, with the exception of Draco. Therefore, Londen's attitude was expected and accepted. Here eyes were a cold, malicous hazel. Draco was, generally, threatend by her presence. There was no goodness at all in Londen and Draco had come to believe that she had no soul.

Her brother, Blake Malfoy sat next to her, staring blankly into space. His face was a pasty white, from the use for Muggle drugs. He looked quite older than he really was. His hair was the same color was Londen's, only his was the lenght of his cheekbone and brushed backwards except for a few starands of hair that fell into his smokey eyes. Draco had the sudden urge to slap him out of his silence, but restained, not wanting to face the broad man. Then his father afterwards. Blake looked uncomfortable in his business suit- Draco guessed that he had apparated after what he'd call "work".

Reeve looked very dignified, like a mobster. But that would make sense, considering he was one. Draco was surprised that his father would even consider including someone who corresponded with Muggles in such a way. But here the dirty-blonde sat. Draco noticed that Reeve was the only Malfoy who had somewhat wavy hair. The man's hair was much like Draco's- It parted neatly in the middle, falling to high cheekbones. Only Draco's hair was as straight as a board, where as Reeves waved slightly. Reeve look comfortable in his clothes, unlike Blake; he wore black slacks and a white T-shirt- very Muggle like.

Draco rolled his eyes.He began to wonder where his father was. What was this about, anyways? Draco looked blankly at the maroon colored wall. This morning at breakfast, Lucius had claimed to Draco that this meeting was very important and he would attend whether he liked it or not. Draco scoffed. He had said it was about the will. Well, no shit, Dad, what else would it be about? You no longer have any contacts besides the worthless people at the Ministry.

Draco didn't dare say that to his father. Despite Voldemort's fall, the family still practiced Dark Magic. And Lucius wouldn't hesitate to put a painful spell on Draco.

Disturbing his thoughts, Lucius boomed in, his long, flowing black velvet robe flying behind him. Lucius' hair was pulled back quite majestically, though it was the normal, brushed back ponytail he always wore. Lucius crossed immeaditly to the desk. Draco crossed his arms while his cousins stood, then sat back down. Draco could feel the tension build like the Pyramids in Egypt. It was the moment of truth, who would get what. Draco fully expected the manor and half the money. Plus the rights to all the files within his fathers name. Why shouldn't he? He was, after all, the son of Lucius Malfoy, it was his birthright to inheirt all his fathers, plus his mother's possesions.

"Do forgive me. There was an unexpected call...it seems one of the horses broke out of its stable. The groundskeeper, the old bastard, had no idea what to do. Damn Muggle animals..." Lucius explained himself to the silent young adults as he shuffled for his papers. He pulled out a thick stack of beige parchment. It curled royaly at each end.

Draco rolled his eyes. He glanced over at his cousins. Londen folded her arms, apperently trying to bite her tonuge. Blake looked as is he'd just woken up from a long nap, and Reeve's lips curled very much like Lucius' would when he knew something good was coming. Draco laughed inwardly. Yeah, buddy, you think that. It's all coming to me.

"Let us proceed, father," Draco said lazily, as if he always spoke in this tone to Lucius.

"Lets," Lucius seemed untouched by the words. "Firstly, I'd like to say to all of you that I'm throughly dissappointed in everyone's behavior. You four are pure-blooded wizards- and bit -, pardon witch, not to metion Malfoys. A disgracful bunch, really. You do realize that you are the last of the Malfoys so far? I do hope so, for everyone's sake."

Reeve rose and eyerow, almost mockingly, "' A disgracful bunch'? If I remember correctly, Uncle, we were the generation who pledged themself to Voldemort self-willingly."

Draco looked down at his faded tattoo, though still visable against his pale skin, looking even paler since he word a black T-shirt and black slacks. Self-willingly? He'd never thought of it like that. Draco was, as his cousins were, born into the Death Eater world. In fact, Reeve was born just because of the request from Voldemort to his father. Perhaps that's why Reeve was so bitter towards his family.

Lucius glared, "Do you really want to be on Voldemort's side now? Honestly I would disown you as my nephew, at this moment, for your stupidity if the will hadn't taken so long to write. Look at yourself!"

There was an awkward silence as Lucius shuffled through the papers. Draco, personally, thought Reeve was quite stupid. Who would talk badly of someone who might give him a large sum of money? Draco wouldn't- he knew when to kiss ass.

Lucius looked up, " You four were called here today to discuss the conditions of my will. As you know, I'll be leaving my entire estate and anything that's on it, including any servents or maids and possessions left within the estate boundries. Plus, the large sum of money and my Gringotts account."

No one shifted but Lucius, who was locating a pen. Draco was gripping the wooden armrests on his chair, Blake was on the edge of his seat, Londen was sittin upright, and Reeve, the lousy fool, was sitting causally in his chair.

Lucius continued, "It will all go to one person, and that one person will have the responsibility of it all upon themselves...and their wife and children."

Draco gaped in confusion. Even Reeve sat up straight.

"What wife and kids?" Blake asked, dumbfounded. He was tempering with his tie, the veins in his hands quite visable. Londen continued to look thoughtful.

"Allow me to explain. I want to Malfoy family line to continue, and you three are the last of it. And that's not all too comforting."

"Three? Excuse me, Uncle Lucius, you mean four," Londen flipped her hair behing her shoulder.

"No, Londen, I ment what I said. Three. You see, if you marry, your last name will change. Therefore it'd be futile to include to in the testament."

"What's all this about marrying, Father? No one's married," Draco sighed. He hoped again that his father was becoming senile.

Lucius laughed, "not yet, son. Now let me continue. The first to marry and conceive a child, will get everything once the child is two weeks old. Now for the con-"

" What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco yelled, standing up. His mind was blurred with fury. His bangs flew into his eyes, which were narrowed at his father. The others looked quite surprised- whether they were surprised by his violent reaction or what Lucius had said. Draco didn't care. All he knew was that he was royally pissed- this had better be a joke.

" Well, that's simple. I've got a girlfriend," Reeve spoke up smugly, smiling like he knew something.

"No, it can't be one of your penny whores. It states so in the will, " Lucius said knowingly, tapping his fingers in a sequence on the hard top of his desk.

"Really? How will you know the difference?" Blake challenged. Although it wasn't the first thing on Draco's mind, Blake had a point. His father didn't know about Blaise, Victoria, or Lacey. But he might know about Pansy, and his past girlfriends. Damn.

"Don't underestimate my intelligance, dear nephew. The testement, magically created, knows. It will accept or decline by placing the hand of the one wished to be wed a top of it." Lucius looked pleased with himself.

Draco couldn' t think any longer. His father had just done the biggest betayal in all of history. How could he do this? Draco had, for years and years, followed every ideal, expectation and order given to him. Ok, fine, so the Mudblood Granger girl beat him as valedictorian in their graduation year. Ok, fine, so maybe he slept around a bit. But- but this? To deprive his own son of his...his birthright? It made Draco shake in pure, undoubted rage.

"I never said you had to know the girl your whole life, or love her, " Lucius continured, breaking the silence. "I merely said that she had to be respectable."

Draco sat down. With this, the others seemed to relax. Except for Londen.

"What an ignorant testament! Why did you invite me if you were going to exclude me from the damned will? What was the point?" Londen hissed dangerously, bracing her arms on the armrests. Lucius chose to ignore her.

Blake, who was looking thoughtful, intrrupted, "What spell did you place on the will, Uncule Lucius? It couldn't be legal."

"An old, old spell. Rarly used anymore."

"Dark Arts?"

"Oh, no, " Lucius grinned, "The Ministry used to use it."

Draco rolled his eyes. Fuck the Ministry. He hated every hour he spent there, on the job.The law- abiding, hypocritical employees often teased Draco about Potter's plea to have Auror's search his house. It got old, fast. Especially since he worked in the Law Department.

"Dinner, forgive its lateness, will be served promptly at nine. A copy of the will on your desk, in your rooms at exactly nine - fifteen. The original testament, the one placed under the spell, will be in the library, located on the second floor, East wing, at ten sharp. Dress your best for supper," the words rolled off Lucius' tongue with ease. He walked out the door, leaving four bewildered adults.

Draco went into his room and collapsed on the royal blue breadspred with a high canopy. He had two windows just like the ones in the corridor, on these were to the right of his bed, and the windows were facing the same way, about three feet apart from each other. Next to the right window was his dresser., beside that, towards the bed again, was the door to the bathroom. As he layed on the bed, his feet toward the bottom, he gazed at the secret wall that lead to the privet quaters. The door on the outside only lead to a small anterroom, ans that's all it appeared to be. There was no way of getting in or out unless though Draco's room. Next to the bare wall was a desk, messy and unorganized, was Draco's work from the Ministry.

Draco was still raging. His father had embarrassed him, betrayed him, and then expected him to marry and have a blasted kid! Now those are high expectations!

But he wasn't about to let the manor and the money go. Oh, he'd get it all. Somehow. Draco knew better than to test out the Will- he knew it would decline about ever girl he knew.

He had to get back at his father. The spite within him bubbled like boiling blood. He'd spite his father- he'd find a loop hole. Or he'd marry someone he detests, someone he hates. Too bad Blaise is a slut.

Too bad Harry's a boy- that'd really spite his father. Draco chuckled out loud at the thought- it was one of the most grotesque things he'd though about in a while. Or, no- even better- if Ron was a girl.

Ginny Weasley chucked the Daily Prophet at the door and uncharacteristically sobbed as she sat on the edge of her bed.God, she hated the people she worked for. Next time she'd make sure Johannas Keggling's article didn't get to the publishers!

The article, in big, upper-case bold letters, printed: 'Potter, Cannos Star Player and Seeker, Dumps Long Time Girlfriend - leaving her Heartbroken and Broke!' Ginny had sobbed when she read it this afternoon, after coming home from work. They break up had been the hardest thing Ginny had ever encounterd- they had been together for four years, since Ginny's sixth in Hogwarts.

Ginny and Harry had been so much in love- not even Ron, who still was close with Harry, knew what had happened between them. All of a sudden, thet talked in the living room and he broke up with her. He was out of the flat by morning. They had been together through the toughest times- when Harry got to become Seeker, but had to leave for Southern Ireland while Ginny was back at school,

During summers, Harry would be training half the time, not coming home until four in the morning. They stayed together during the War, even when Harry was shipped out and Ginny went to St. Mungo's to help out in the Doctor's Ward. Or when Ginny graduated and got the editing job, she was sent out with a journalist on a battlefield. Harry helped her recover from what she had seen. He had been there for her, and she for him. When he lost the House Cup in his final year at Hogwarts, all because Malfoy had caught the Snitch. And what had hurt Harry most was that Malfoy hadn't cheated. It was talent this time around. It took days to cheer Harry up, until the Cannos personally asked Harry to be their seeker.

Ginny curled up on the edge of her bed. 'God, why did he leave me? I love you, Harry! I though you loved me, too.' Ginny was so sure that he'd pop the question soon. But he popped someting else, and it wasn't that either.

She layed there, her tears stopped flowing. She had the sudden urge to write. One thing Tom was good for - he taught her to write.

Ginny had many short stories and a few poems, but she was too shy to present them to anyone. She wrote all by hand, using her quill and parchment. One story was about two young people in love. Well, most of her stories were about that. One was a Romeo and Juliet type story, the other was a Happy Ending, and another ended in suicide. But the majority of them ended happily, in a dreamaway life Ginny had thought she lived in.

Anger boiled in Ginny. Damn Potter, what right did he have to make me feel this way? She wanted to get back at him so badly- not physically, but emotionally. She suddenly wanted him to feel precisly what she was feeling- an emotional trainwreck. She gritted her teeth and balled up the bedspred in the palm of her hand. God, what a son of a bitch. And to not even give her a reason! It wouldn't have been as bad if he would've told her why!

Ginny, horrified at her true thoughts, sunk down and cried again.

Suddenly if felt like a hardcover book hit Draco in the back of the head, dispite that he was laying down with his arms stretched out, reading today's Daily Prophet. Potter left Weasley. But that's not why he felt a flash.

Weasley, all alone, vulnerable and broke. Malfoy, rich and powerful with one hell of a proposition.

'Duh! You dipshit! Why didn't you think of them first!' Draco scoled himself, dispite his upped mood. His father hated the Weasleys. The Malfoys loathed their family- if he were to marry one it'd sure as hell spite his father.

Draco secretly wondered what color hair the baby would have- blonde or red? Maybe brown- the Weasley's had the brown gene in them.

Draco was suddenly disgusted with himself. She is a Weasley, after all. Nice legs, no doubt, pretty face...small waist...nice chest, proportional anyways. Presentable in pubilc. Muggle - loving, but her family lines were cleaner and older than the Dracos. (Whose fourth cousin's great great grandmother had bore a squib in 1763).

A smile spread across his face. Maybe a virgin. Maybe not...

'Good enough!' He thought, making a mental note to check Weasley's address tomorrow at work. 'She: A- is not bad looking (Draco couldn't stand to think that anyone who had possibily fucked Potter was hot), B- Will spite Father, and C- Respectable, D-' He paused. He had to think about 'D'. The only thing that came to mind was that she'd make Lucius mad. And there was nothing he could do about it, since the will was already set up and signed by Lucius Malfoy.

Draco almost got up and danced around, but the dinner bell rang abruptly. Draco wondered if should attend dinner. He wasn't hungry, and he couldn't stand those damned relatives of his, including his father. Not even Draco could stand Malfoy times four. He wondered if he was nearly as bad as them downstairs. Ok, he rentlessly teased and harrassed Potter, Mudblood, and Weasel. Especially after the House Cup.

Draco smiled as he left the West Wing. He hadn't changed- and would never would.