Wedded Bliss

Ugh, Lucius sighed inwardly. If only Draco hadn't chosen this particular day to be the spoiled brat that he was. After pausing to straighten the crumpled Oriental rug beneath him with his polished cane, he resumed his pacing, every so often glancing at the boy seated obstinately facing away from him and gazing into the lit fireplace.

"There is no other alternative Draco- you know your duty. Not only to this family, but to the Dark Lord-"

Draco cringed inwardly at the comment. Refusing the Dark Mark had probably not been one his more well-received decisions.

"It is an honor to receive the Mark- I simply don't understand why you would refuse. Apparently we've not raised you properly, else you've no common sense at all. Really think of what you're doing- to be branded as one of the Dark Lord's own is to-"

Eh? 'Branded'? Fucking bastard...I wasn't aware I resembled a cow.

Amid biting his lip to keep from voicing his thoughts, Draco nearly nodded off as his Father's tirade wound down to a mere roar in his ears.

"Father- I see no advantage in wearing my loyalty- well...on my sleeve, so to speak. For god's sake, I go to school with Harry-fucking-Potter! Dumbledore breathes down my neck already for just looking at scar-head funny- the Mark would be a sure ticket to Azkaban...or doesn't that matter to Him?"

Sighing, Draco stood and stepped into the rapidly swinging path of the dark cane, bringing it to a halt almost immediately and with it, the body grasping it like a lifeline.

"There must be another way to show my- loyalty."

Lucius appraised him and then gave a curt nod, the motion of his head seeming to further crinkle his brows. "I'll speak to Him. Out of my sight now- pray for your life I don't return within the hour."

Draco nodded and flopped back down into the chair, inwardly scoffing at the disgruntled sniff that escaped from the older man at his treatment of the leather. Mouth twisting in a way Draco was sure must have been either admiration or disgust at the sheer audacity of his actions, Lucius apparated with a smart Pop!, leaving him alone in the library.

His winter break really wasn't going all that well, he mused, heaving himself up from the chair with a grunt. It had started off nicely- no Gryffindors after all, or Pansy Parkinson, for that matter, panting after him like some starved dog- but then Daddy-dearest had to come home with the simply wonderful news that Voldemort was willing to look past his age, or lack thereof, and make him an official Death Eater. Oh goodie.

Now, Draco may not have had top marks in all of his classes- the mudblood Granger had smashed that hope straight away in his First Year- but he wasn't a complete idiot. Signing over allegiance to a half-alive crackpot who quite honestly might not succeed in actually killing one of his classmates and taking over the Wizarding world- call him mad, but that didn't sound like such a great plan.

Honestly, if Malfoys were all about controlling others...his Father had no place putting on a mask like some common criminal and being the lapdog of some- some...Hell, there wasn't even a word for that thing.

Draco scoffed and tossed a paperweight into the air, watching as the lack-luster metal caught in the firelight to reflect his stormy visage before plummeting back down into his hand.

Setting the weight back in its rightful place, he glanced at the clock. Great, ten minutes had passed; fifty more before he knew if he would live or die for his supposed insolence.

Well if he was going to die, at the hand of his own Father even so, he might as well terrorize some house-elves before he went.

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It was finally the clock striking eleven that woke him- no doubt he had been too exhausted to hear the hours struck before. With glazed eyes Draco noted that it had been three hours since his Father had left to plead his case- so either they were negotiating another show of loyalty or devising his no-doubt long and very painful demise.

...Frankly, neither option sounded so good at the moment.

The clack of wood meeting stone snapped him from his thoughts, the steps and subsequent echo off of the walls spurring him into action to make himself semi-presentable.

Lucius Malfoy rapped on the door neatly- a gesture with no meaning but for superfluous and outdated etiquette- before opening the door and stepping over the threshold.

With a sigh the older man leaned more fully onto his cane, the polished top fogging from the extra pressure, "Be thankful for the Dark Lord's mercy on this night, Draco."

Alright- 'mercy' is good. I can deal with mercy. Murmuring the perfunctory assent, Draco lowered his gaze to the ground, an action that portrayed humility and also served to hide the otherwise obvious look of disgust present at being in debt to the old bastard.

"He sees purpose for you yet, Draco." Lucius tipped the boy's chin up, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You are to be a distraction."

Draco sputtered inwardly- Not good... Images of being set on fire, hog-tied and tossed into Dumbledore's office swum around his skull frantically- leave it to his Father to have suggested something equally horrendous. Here it comes...

"Yes." Lucius didn't bother masking the wide smirk enveloping his face. "You are to be married, my son."

Oh shit.

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