Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, fuming.
His father had just committed suicide. It wasn't a Romeo suicide, death because he couldn't go on without someone. It was an Antigone suicide. Lucius Malfoy killed himself because he couldn't go on without his 'innocence': his way of life. Without the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, he didn't know how to live. So he decided to get out of it.
His death was grisly. He hadn't used the Killing Curse on himself, as would have been easiest and least painful. No, he'd painted the Dark Mark on his chest, cast a Silencio on himself and then stabbed himself in the gut with a dagger that had been in the Malfoy family since the early nineteenth century. The blood had pooled, and Lucius had strained his vocal cords screaming out against the pain. But no sound had come out of his mouth, and he had fallen to the floor, death framing his body like a rogue angel hovering over him. The blood had stained his long, almost white-blond hair, creating a Devil's halo.
Narcissa had collapsed; fainted, when she'd seen. Draco had thrown up. Astoria was still crying her heart out in the bedroom upstairs while Draco sat in his office. No one else had been told yet, save the emergency healers who had responded, and Harry Potter who'd been the Auror looking into Lucius Malfoy's death, due to the fact that Lucius had painted the Dark Mark on himself and because he'd rolled up the sleeve on his left arm to show the real one tattooed there.
Draco didn't feel much of anything besides anger. He didn't feel the loss of his father. Truthfully, Lucius's mind had died far before his body. But it wasn't Draco's father's suicide that made him so angry. It was his will. A will that proved Draco wasn't an only child.
Lucius Malfoy had had an affair. One that had produced a son, a rival heir to the Malfoy fortune.
Draco had already inherited the fortune. There was no rivalry for him. But for Scorpius, that was another story. And Scorpius had no sons to pass the fortune down to; three daughters, instead.
This man, this brother of Draco's, had even been given a constellation name, the trademark of the Black family even though he was, in no way, Black. Ophiuchus. It meant 'serpent-bearer'. Serpent, Slytherin. Lucius had practically considered him a part of the Malfoy family, not just an unfortunate accident that had resulted from one of his many affairs. He'd received a constellation name. It was a mark of a true member of the Malfoy, or Black, family. That or a Shakespearean name. And Draco couldn't believe that Lucius had done this.
And in this will, it stated that Ophiuchus was in line to inherit, after Scorpius, providing that Scorpius did not produce a son. Draco could change his own will to fit what they wanted, and to barricade Ophiuchus out of the family forever, but it was difficult. Too difficult to do without lots of outside aid and attention. It would alert mostly everyone, certainly Ophiuchus would notice. And that would not do.
No, Draco would have to figure out a way to alert Scorpius of the new threat. Because, right now, if Scorpius and Draco were to die, Ophiuchus would inherit absolutely everything. It would be like Hamlet, in that sense. Ophiuchus would inherit not only Malfoy manor and the fortune, but Astoria, Rose, Scorpius's and Rose's daughters, and Narcissa. Who was to say that Ophiuchus wouldn't do what Hamlet's Uncle Claudius had done?
No, Draco would fix this. Because he was not going to lose everything all over again. Not to some stupid, archaic, medieval contract drawn up to make sure that men held all the power. He was going to change it and 'flow' with the times. A first, for the Malfoy family. And he was going to do it all to protect his family.
Draco had had a private investigator that had worked for the Malfoy family for decades find out everything there was to know about Ophiuchus. And he was said to be a cruel, sadistic, cunning man. He'd do anything to get the fortune and everything that came along with it. And he'd use the people he and Scorpius cared about to do it.