Disclaimer: Anyone know some foreign languages? I want to say "I don't own, so eff off" in like Ugoslavian, but I only know French and only the very basics…. Hmmm, I'll work on it. (My 2 favorite phrases: Je n'aime pas tu, and Je n'aime pas les oeufs verts et du jambon. On the second one I'm totally not sure about the 'les' and 'du' but whatev.)
Warning: Umm, let's see, slash, bad writing, waiting like 2 years to pick this up again…. Take your pick. I'm waiting for the tomatoes but careful, I bruise easy.
A/N: WARI WARI!!! Really, I'm repentant, it's been sooooo long since I last wrote, I just don't like anything I write lately, but here it is. Also, I'm thinking about giving the chapters names, and I kinda like the idea of having a song title for each one. I don't particularly want the titles to have to do with the chapter but the lyrics, think ya'll can help out?? Thanks. Now, on with the show!
Chapter Four(Hopefully soon to be something witty)
In the library a young man sat in an old, antique chair reading a dusty tome, totally engrossed. It was one day before the end of holiday break and Draco was simply passing the time until his return trip. He was comfortable with his altered body now, the fortnight at home helping him cope with the quirks. His parents had practiced with him on controlling the effects of his veela-ism, and while he was still irresistibly gorgeous, if he did say so himself, he would not be… jumped.
This had been a particularly troublesome predicament, his draw to men, as the gardener, Carmelo a bronzed Latino man in his early twenties, had been lured in when Draco's parents were out. It had been passionate and thrilling, the man calling him aciano reverently in native accent, but afterwards the teen had had a terrible time getting him to leave again once he was finished with him. Really, didn't the bloke know his parents would most certainly 'dismiss' him if they found him with their only child? Dismiss with his father's cane, that is. This had been Draco's first venture into the lower classes. He couldn't wait till this summer. The man was most definitely not his mate, but he was in no hurry, might as well have fun while he could.
He was already packed and was awaiting the next morning when he would see his friends again. Going back to his novel, he soon fell asleep, not waking until the dinner bell was chimed by a house elf. He went up to his room to tidy up before heading to the dining room. The food was exceptional as always, the house elves going all out for his last night home. All of his favorites were present, splayed along the table in tribute to his coming months with only the great hall for comfort (as Telly and Dodger saw it). He had found, that along with the physical changes, his appetite had also, leaving him rarely hungry and even then unable to eat more that half of his usual intake. It was going to give Mother an ulcer. Through out the whole holiday she had presented him with snacks at the oddest hours, piled extra helping on his plate while he was distracted by conversation with Father. Lucius Malfoy, of course, was not so disturbed, and continuously had to explain to his wife that she was being silly and that their son simply didn't need as much energy for his body to work naturally as it had before.
The next morning found Draco curled up like a cat underneath the thick mounds of silk sheets, blankets and comforter; Narcissa just coming in to wake him.
"Drakey, wake up, sweet." The blonde woman cooed, lightly shaking her son.
"Ngghh.Tired. Don't call me Drakey…" He replied, eyes remaining shut with angelic obstinacy; really, this veela thing might be useful.
"Back to school today." She baited, knowing this would catch his attention. It's not that he didn't like being home, but he was a Malfoy and thus a social creature. Waking, Draco sat up slowly, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. Yawning and stretching, feline-like, he smiled at his mother. "And the prince has awoken." She teased, getting up from his bed. "Breakfast will be set in an hour." With that she left him to get ready. Having already set out clothes last night, he went straight to the shower, spending half of his hour there, before drying off and putting on his outfit. It was a carefully selected combination of new purchases, aiming for maximum effect. Long, fashionably tight, black dress slacks, along with an appealing fountainbleu button down that clung in all the right places. The top two buttons were left undone, showing off a snake of white going suspended on a delicate chain. They had gotten his hair cut sleek and sexy, right at chin level. He draped his tasteful leather duster that, once donned, would drape to just below his derriere, across one arm and headed down to breakfast.
Upon reaching the bottom of the grand staircase, his mother practically pounced on him. "Draco, you look wonderful!" She almost cried, fluttering around him as she tried to hug him without ruffling his immaculate appearance. His father, who sat at the table, raised an elegant eyebrow at his wife's antics. Draco grinned back, both of them used to Narcissa's adoration of her 'baby'. Finally drawing back, Narcissa guided Draco to the dining table.
There was an impressive spread in front of him: poached eggs, fruit, and English muffins. Draco vied away from the sight of bacon across the table in front of Father. Ever since the change he'd hated most meats, the smell made him sick. He was grateful that the house elves had placed the saucer of breakfast meats as far away as possible. How considerate. There was sausage and kipper too. Fish Draco could stand, as it was lighter and didn't upset his fussy appetite. This pleased Draco, for while sausage and bacon were both equally plebian as not, fish for breakfast was a delicacy of the comfortable. Not today though. Instead he picked out a cluster of green grapes, a handful of strawberries and a single poached egg, before turning to meet his mother's apprehensive gaze.
"Mother, I'm fine. I'm just not that hungry." This had become a daily situation.
"Draco, are you sure? Couldn't you get just a little more? For me?" Draco was about to argue that he didn't think he could keep down anything more, when his father sighed. All attention went to the Malfoy patriarch.
"'Cissa. We've been over this. The boy's changed. But Draco," he said turning to his son, "you should eat as much as you can, your departure may be taxing. It is very possible, and rather likely that you'll feel the pull of your mate on the Express and resisting the call will drain your energy. And we do expect you to resist." Here his tone got tight and his eyes narrowed as though imagining something wholly unpleasant. Like mud soup. Or flamingos. Draco was snapped out of his musings as Lucius resumed. "While of course you are to get to know your Intended, under no circumstances are you to do anything more… intimate. Though the veela will want to proceed immediately, you are to act becoming of a Malfoy. No son of mine will be taken advantage of by some ruffian—" Here he was cut off on what had become a rant by a "hem" from Mother. "Right, eat well then."
Meekly placing a muffin on his plate, he seemed to placate both of his parents: his father giving a satisfied nod, more to himself than anyone, and his mother beaming at him before beginning to eat. Having won previously, Narcissa waited only a few minutes to start on her next issue. Dabbing at the sides of her mouth with the linen napkin, she started, "Drakey, are you sure you don't want us to come along to the station with you?" Sighing Draco braced himself before responding.
"I'm sure, Mother, and please don't call me that." Smiling sweetly he watched as she pouted, thinking up her next lines. Amazingly, Draco had been able to convince his parents to let him travel to platform 9 ¾ 'unaccompanied'. Both of the Malfoy parents were extremely protective of their only son, but Lucius understood Draco's want to appear independent and a well placed comment of "You don't trust me." made his mother naught but putty in his well manicured hand.
"'Cissa, let the boy have some leash, he's come of age. Surely he's old enough to ride in a carriage by himself, as you have ruled out apparition." Lucius interrupted, finishing off his bacon. His mother still sputtering about the "leash" remark, he threw the older man a grateful look. Popping the last grape in his mouth, he wiped his lips of imagined crumbs and gracefully stood from the table.
"May I be excused? I need to finish packing." Not waiting for the perfunctory "of course"'s, he started towards the stairs.
Closing the door behind him, he got down on his knees, and pulled a black box from under the bed. Tapping two fingers to the top of the metal container, he whispered a few words, and waited as the lid slid open. This box held all his most precious belongings; checking that everything was in place, he closed the lid, tapped it twice, and picked it up. Setting it carefully (even though it had unbreakable charms on it) into his sling-style book bag, he headed downstairs.
Walking out into the front lawns, he found his parents waiting by the drive, inspecting the majestic black wood carriage, checking the wards and protection spells for the umpteenth time. Draco pretended oblivious of their concern, and turned to examine the horses in the harnesses. They were fine pure-bred furies, of the Malfoy's own herd. His Gawain was not in the harnesses today, and Draco wished he could have gone and seen his stallion once more before he left. The steed had recently had his eye on Rocinante and so spent more time chasing the mare and less with Draco.
Turning back to his parents who were now satisfied with the spellwork, he went to them. Going up on tippy-toes, he pecked a kiss on his father's cheek before returning to normal stature to do the same on his mother. He waited good-naturedly while his mother hugged him close, ready to be off.
"Have a safe trip, honey." She said gazing at him wistfully, still hopeful of a change of heart.
"I will." He replied assuredly, "Goodbye, Mother, Father." With that he stepped into the compartment, sitting back and waving out the window as the driver closed the door.
Relaxing into the leather seat as they pulled off onto the drive, he crossed his legs and got comfortable for the ride.
Back at the Manor, Lucius had placed a comforting arm around his wife's shoulders.
"Really, 'Cissa. Must you always carry on so? He's coming back."
"I know," she sighed, snuggling into his chest, "But I miss him already."
Contrary to popular belief, Lucius Malfoy loved his family. He would do anything for them.
When a great and powerful dark lord threatened the safety of the wizarding world, killing all who opposed, the first thing he did was insure their utmost protection, by joining the ranks and becoming the right hand man. He killed ally and foe and innocent to keep them alive and they knew it.
It was something understood only by a death eater and family in the same position; which was, surprisingly quite a few. The expression was 'blood is thicker than water'; then said transparent liquid was exactly what was spilling from the ignorant muggle or self-righteous do-gooder as Lucius sent a curse slicing into him. It was for his family.
Draco, his son, his child, his heir, and the most important person in his life. Anything the youth wanted, he got. Anything Lucius could give, he did; and yet somehow, the boy was not spoiled. Stubborn, and lethal with comments and smirks, but nothing less would be tolerated of any self-respecting Malfoy.
He cared deeply for his wife, but as a constant companion, his confidante. He would give anything and everything for these two, his job, money, freedom. Life.
There was only one other being this valuable to him; one person he was willing to sacrifice so much for, but could not, was not permitted. His mate.
"Come, 'Cissa." He said, leading her into the Manor.
"Lucius-dear, do you think it would be okay if I sent the young Zabini a message; have him make sure Draco's fine?"
"No." He said gentle, yet firm. "That would not be a good idea."
"Well," She sighed, "I'm going to owl Severus to tell him about Drake's new look. I should fire Bella and Alecto too." She said, pleased to have some news to spread; she did love to brag about their son. Lucius watched as she made her way to the hearth, already forgotten was the owl she meant to send the gloomy Hogwarts professor. As it was, he took it upon himself to write the letter.
Really, he was surprised the man hadn't visited for Draco's birthday. It was unusual for him to not come over sometime during the holidays, but then this whole break had been unusual. Not only had 'Cissa had to cancel their annual New Years gathering ("The rich don't have parties, dear. They have socials.") but Draco also hadn't had a birthday get-together at all, both due to his son's inheritance.
Instead of a party, Lucius and Narcissa had taken him shopping, for clothes mostly (how a boy could be so interested in attire, he did not know), as an Inheritance gift. They had spent many galleons in a quarter of as many hours on upscale brand-name articles; designer only, of course.
One particularly memorable moments was, as Narcissa was paying for the latest haul, Draco had ducked into Fer Baiser, a (relatively hygienic) tattoo and piercing parlor, to come out with a tongue stud. 'Cissa had nearly had an aneurism, babbling on about Draco's poor, beautiful tongue. Eventually Draco pointed out that he could have come out with something worse, and convinced her to let him keep it. Lucius had not approved but had not carried on as such. That is, he waited until later to demand just WHO he was planning on showing his tongue.
Picking up a quill and summoning a length of parchment, he began to write.
As you are probably aware, Draco's seventeenth birthday has come to pass, and he has come into his Inheritance. His appearance has changed some (though not dramatically), and I wish to ask of you to keep an eye on him and aid him should he get into any trouble.
Hoping the new year sees you well,
Lucius Domitius Malfoy.
With that he folded, then addressed the letter and left to the owlery to search for a suitable carrier. They had already sent Quetzalcoatl, Draco's eagle owl, to the school. 'The boy is very fond of his pets', Lucius thought fondly, securing the letter to a non-descript (and rather un-Malfoy) brown barn owl and watching it fly away.
A/N: Alright guys, my fingers hurt. That was a really llooonnnggg chap. Well, I hope you like it. Um. I kinda wonder if anyone is still reading this fic/interested. Tell me if you want me to continue. Ciao. KoveAiden