Chapter Eight: Hideous Coincidence

Title: Hush

Author: Bright Eyes (Or Shining Bright Eyes)

Summary: Is all what it seems?

Word Count: 948

Disclaimer: All JKR

A/N: And that's what we call awful writers block and WAAAAY too much homework… I'm incredibly sorry. I can't believe I've been writing this story (Hush included) since 2005… that is such a long time ago. I keep plodding on with this one. Who knows… maybe I'll update before December! Ah, now that would be something. To all of you who are still following what used to be monthly updates – I thank you SO SO SO much. You are absolutely wonderful – yes, that means you kloper70, Kanui d'Astor, yourmomismyheart and the one who has reviewed every single chapter without fail and reminds me that this story exists – LadyLilyMalfoy! It's true… I haven't updated in 6 months… I'm so sorry, but I can't guarantee that it will get better…

Please review. I love hearing from you!

Chapter Eight: Hideous Coincidence

"You need to do some growing up. Immediately. You will accompany me in my business and learn what it is to be a real man in the wizarding world." Lucius paused for effect, allowing these words to sink into Draco's spinning mind.

"But the danger – "

Lucius' posture visibly tensed at these words, and he paused thoughtfully before replying.

"What danger is there in a small trip across the Channel, Draco?"

He was finally asleep, glaringly bright eyes closed against the stark harshness that the world had to offer.

Did he want to hurt the boy further? Did he? But the boy would become a danger to himself… and that could become an even more severe complication.

Draco's eyes flickered open, the light streaming through the carriage window reflecting off his pale iris' like steel.

"You're awake," said Lucius quietly, his eyes flickering towards his son briefly before returning back towards his moderately sized volume.

Slightly taken aback by his father's bland tones, Draco nodded slightly, simultaneously attempting to straighten his robes and flatten his pale hair into a semblance of order. It which had lengthened rapidly since his father's 'reappearance' and was in dire need of a trim.

For a moment Draco eyed his father's posture carefully, carefully looking for the telltale signs of tension across his shoulders, and the crease in his brow, to indicate that now was definitely not the time to start a conversation. Hesitating, Draco felt affirmed that conversation was possible.

"How long was I asleep for?" he questioned quietly, using the voice he had been taught to use around adults at garden parties. Passive, quiet and disturbingly polite.

Lucius paused languidly, allowing himself to consider his words, but at the same time, showing a measurement of disdain. Lucius would show such distaste for a simple shop keeper or manservant. The action reflecting that at this point in time Draco held no more stature with him that the low class simpletons of the wizarding world.

Waiting patiently, Draco continued to stare at his father, pleading to an unknown God that the response to the question would not be biting or cruel. That morning something inside him had snapped. He didn't want his father to treat him with warm comfort one week, and icy disdain the next.

He almost wished that his family were more like –

The Weasleys? Finished a nasty little voice in the back of his head. Sharp and taunting, the words lingering in his mind. Draco tried to shake the feeling, but the thought seemed to grate across his mind as he watched his father mark his page, his long, slender fingers, so like his own, replacing the strip of silk between the pages.

"I would I approximate half an hour. Perhaps a touch more," drawled Lucius, pale eyes lingering on his son's rapidly lengthening hair.

Nodding silently in reply, Draco rapidly surveyed his surroundings, a slight feeling of claustrophobia washing over him, as he realized that this was the closest in proximity to his father that Draco had had in the longest time.

Hesitating for only a moment, Draco scoured his brain for how to continue the conversation, not wanting to let in wane, not now he held his father's attention, singular and inescapable.

"Why are we taking so long? We are only going to Paris, aren't we, father?" questioned Draco, his voice still painfully passive. He could almost see his father wince internally at his son's intonations. Like a beggar in the gutter, he could nearly hear Lucius say. Like a petty house elf.

Lucius eyed Draco very, very carefully. His pale, near transparent iris' clearly circled by a thin band of black. This close Draco could see every detail of his father's face. The fine lines around his mouth, not yet prominent, and the subtle crease of his forehead. There wasn't a trace of white amongst the sea of pale blond hair. Although you wouldn't know if there was… not unless you looked ever so closely as Draco was now. Of course Lucius would rarely let anyone reach this proximity to his person…especially someone as… 'unstable' as Draco.

"Why are you – "

"Apparently there's been – "

Draco froze, and Lucius' eyes narrowed slightly. Draco felt something deep in his stomach freeze. Never had he interrupted his father. He had never even seen anyone dare. Lucius Malfoy was not a character one dared speak over. His word was law, whether you agreed or not.

Raising a pale eyebrow Lucius motioned for Draco to continue.

"Er… I…" Draco managed to stammer, unsure of what to make of his father's hospitable actions. "I was merely going to ask why… you were letting me come with you to France if I were so unstable…"

Lucius paused. Despite Draco's mad ramblings, and his desperate desire that his son's abilities were nothing more than adolescent wild magic, the news coming from Paris was not affirming. The head office of Monde de Magie, - Wizarding France's main newspaper – had just been bombed and it was still unknown who the culprits were. The tangle of investments and business' the Malfoys were involved with was extensive and faced enemies from both the public and other businesses. The enemies could be everywhere and everyone.

" – father? Father!" murmured Draco, hesitantly tapping his sire on the shoulder. "The driver says we're to land within ten minutes. He said he needs to talk to you before hand."

Lucius watched as his son's face turned to slight confusion.

He was right… or it was all a hideous coincidence… Lucius hoped silently for the latter, all the while realizing the odds were against him.

A/N Review, show me love, and if you used to follow the story, drop by and give me a hello. I do miss you. And I'll try to update more often. Final year of school is not easy 