Like Father, Like Son

Lucius:

Don't come on so cocksure boy
You can't escape your genes
No point in feeling good boy
Your background intervenes

Lucius smiled at the mirror as he added gel to his hands, rubbing them together and slicking them through his hair, styling it intently as he watched his own every movement. He blew a kiss to himself before turning away from the mirror, watching Draco as his son did the same thing in a mirror across the room. The younger Malfoy frowning before picking a piece of hair between his fingers and putting it just so, a small smirk crossing his face as he found his appearance satisfying. The younger Malfoy picked up a white mask laying on the vanity, running a finger oh so gently down the nose of the white face, biting his lip, a fine trembling in his hand.

Lucius walked over and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, his own worn mask hanging from a hook on his belt. "It's time," he purred in Draco's ear, nipping at the delicate shell before heading to the door.

Listen Good and Listen straight
You're not the master of your fate
To this you must be reconciled
You'll always be your father's child
At times acclaimed at times reviled
You'll wind up doing just what I've done
Like Father, Like Son

Lucius bent slowly, ignoring the pain in his knees as his forehead touched Voldemort's robe, his lips caressing the worn leather of the boot in front of him. He smiled slightly as he heard a groan of pain and looked to his left, watching as another blond head bowed down, Draco's lips touching the muddy leather. Fatherly pride swelled in his chest as a pale hand came down, caressing the locks of Draco's hair, a sign of approval, of acceptance.

The hand then moved over to Lucius and hooked under his chin, drawing the wizard to his feet. Voldemort leaned in and kissed Lucius softly, dismissing Draco from his thoughts for a moment as the two lovers re-united after months apart. Months of worry and months of training heirs.

Draco:
Don't assume your vices
Get handed down the line
That a parent's blood suffices
To condemn the child's design

Draco watched disgusted as his father and Voldemort kissed hungrily, drinking from each other. He turned away, staring out at the Death Eaters around him, trying to push the sounds of sucking away from behind him, shivering with revulsion. He couldn’t’ believe after all this time, he was standing here, the last place he wanted to be, mud on his lips, and a burn on his arm. He raised his white mask and stared down at the laughing face. He suddenly doubled over and retched, emptying his stomach, crying.

I've done wrong I can't deny
But at least I know that I
Shouldn't blame that on my stock
This may come as quite a shock
But I'm no chip off any block
I wouldn't wish those words on anyone
Like Father, Like Son

“Ah, young Mister Malfoy, come in,” Dumbledore said, standing, holding out a hand to Draco.

Draco stared at that hand for a moment, seeing all that it was silent offering before reaching into his school robes and pulling out a white piece of plastic, laying it in Dumbledore’s hand. As Dumbledore glanced down at the white painted face, raising an eyebrow Draco cleared his throat, taking a seat. “I want to help you,” he said softly, raising his red, tears stained eyes to those of his headmaster. “I want to destroy him.”

Dumbledore nodded and set the mask on his desk, the hallow eyes staring up at the two men.

Lucius
Son you're nervous, take my hand
All is settled, all is planned
You've got the world at your command
I don't think you understand

Lucius smiled at his son, ruffling his pale blond hair before moving past the young Malfoy, kicking in a door and shouting curses as they stormed the home of a well placed muggle couple. All around them Death Eater’s ran, shouting curses, laughing and joking as bodies fell at their feet. Voldemort stood apart from them all, watching and savoring the death and destruction before him. He moved into the house and laughed a cold, dark laughter as the killing curse tumbled from his lips.

Draco
I appreciate too well
The squalor at which you exceed
It isn't very hard to tell
Evil's a distinctive smell

Draco gagged on the smell of burning flesh as giddy and drunk Death Eaters lighted mocking funeral pyres around him. In the fire’s glow he saw his father standing at Voldemort’s right hand side, that long pale hand caressing Lucius’s shoulder the flames illuminating their gleeful faces. Draco raised a shaking hand to cover his mouth and nose, staring into his father’s eyes before turning and running, stumbling as he tried to escape the horror behind him.

Harry opened the door to his uncle’s house, staring at the blond who was on his knees, retching, sobbing, and mumbling to himself. Harry gripped Draco’s arms and made him stand, looking into the shock filled eyes before pulling Draco into the house, holding him close as the shorter man cried on his shoulder, trying to rid his soul of the pain.

Lucius
He's lost all sense of reason
And why? Some foreign slut
Not only is that treason
Some doors are slamming shut

Lucius stepped out onto his balcony, looking down at the gardens below. Draco lay in the rosebuds, a soft blanket beneath him as he curled more into Harry’s arms, sighing softly, contently. Lucius’ hand clenched on the railing as he watched the lovers kiss tenderly, softly.

Just like me he's that flesh
Can excite but will enmesh

Lucius slipped down the hallway, his finger running over the metal blade in his hand as he slipped through the shadows, hearing laughter from Narcissa’s bedroom, shivering slightly, not wanting to know what his wife was up to. He paused outside a dark doorway and grinned, placing a hand on the door before opening it silently.

Once we rid him of this blight
Once that harlot's out of sight
Then I think he'll see the light
He won't walk back to Daddy he will run!
Like Father, Like Son

Harry slept soundly, looking innocent and young in his sleep as Lucius stood over him. Lucius bent down close, kissing the hero of the wizarding world softly as he drew a knife across Harry’s throat, feeling the warm wash of blood as it poured over his hand. “Sleep sweet,” Lucius whispered before raising and looking down into Draco’s face, kissing his son’s ear softly. “Daddy loves you.”