Author's Note: "Only Son" is a song by Liz Phair, featured on her 1998 masterpiece WhiteChocolateSpaceEgg.

"Only Son"

Narcissa Malfoy circles around her son, Draco, back-and-forth in his bedroom. Although it is larger than the average seventeen-year-old wizard's bedroom - complete with a queen-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a glamorous balcony - Draco presently feels very claustrophobic as he sits on his bed. Though his mother's overwhelming fury is to be expected after tonight's "bust", Draco is flabbergasted by how agitated he has made her.

After a silent moment of great tension passes, Narcissa stops to tower in front of Draco, and then proceeds to scream, "MY SON, A BLOODY QUEER? That simply cannot be, right Draco? You are a Malfoy for Salazar's sake, which means, as you know too well, you must uphold our family's Pureblood honor! Don't you realize homosexuality is an obscene abomination? Having a homosexual relative would be an unspeakable disgrace to the Malfoy name!" Narcissa's rage left her breathless. Notwithstanding, Draco boldly folded his arms at his chest, making Narcissa seethe before continuing. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, how dare you not feel ashamed! That you're clouded in confusion over your sexuality honestly is bamboozling altogether! We raised you much better! It's just impossible that a privileged Pureblood upbringing made my only son a bloody queer—"

At this, Draco cannot resist standing up and confronting her. "Mother, what will it take to make you see that one is born this way—"

But it's Narcissa who interrupts now. Defiant as ever, she screams, "SILENCE, DRACO! I am so very ashamed that I witnessed the reprehensible sight of you and that Blaise Zabini boy kissing- and yet: I vow to reverse your shamed downfall to homosexuality before you dishonor the Malfoy name permanently." Narcissa's shrieking drowns out Draco completely. Then, surprisingly his mother intimidates him even more so when she hisses a short afterword under her breath. "Just watch me."

A shiver runs up his spine. Draco tries searching her menacing stare, but it is unreadable. Catching him off his guard, Narcissa then slaps Draco across the face hard before slamming out his room. Furious as ever, Draco yells pointlessly. "She is nothing but a worthless twat of a woman, not to mention a bloody failure of a mother!"

Lucius Malfoy throws his arrangement of wine glasses off their shelf one-by-one at the wall. The shattering glass makes a deafening crackle that rather disturbs Narcissa's ears. Ignoring her, Lucius is fuming here in his drawing room, irrationally pacing through the room again and again. Then he lets out a loud, almost whiny growl and continues to wreck table chairs, paintings, figurines, silverware etc. His petrified wife stands in front of the grandiose grandfather clock with her arms folded tensely against her chest. Mrs. Malfoy mentally scolds herself for apparently underestimating the outrage of her husband upon finding out his only son was claiming to be queer.

As she watches frightfully, Narcissa calms her mental state through recourse. Is it really all that surprising that Lucius is violently tossing the room apart? Why am I so anxious? Well, it's the first time Lucius has ever been this livid at Draco...

Lucius Malfoy stops in his tyranny all the sudden. Gasping, he bends weakly over himself for a moment, worn out, and takes a deep breath. Almost right afterward, though, he starts shaking like a madman, convulsing from the frustration within him. Finally stopping, Mr. Malfoy lets out a scary scream. "WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE OUR SON? WHY NOW OF ALL TIMES AT THAT? THE DARK LORD JUST FREED ME FROM AZKABAN MIRACULOUSLY, BUT IN VEIN I ARRIVE HOME TO FACE A FAMILY CRISIS!" Shrieking inconsolably and impatient as ever, Malfoy can barely say more given his clenching teeth and breathlessness. He throws his hands up and lets his bodyweight slide down on the wall until he is sitting on the floor against it. Sitting in frustration, Lucius looks like a defeated warrior with his head hidden behind the shield of his hands, anguished like no one, even his wife, could remember.

Narcissa rushes to her husband's side. Fragilely, she starts combing through his gorgeous blonde hair. Once Lucius raises his head after a while, his soothing wife utters softly, "Lucius. Lucius my love, it's alright. Everything's going to be fine. We've done nothing wrong." She runs her delicate palms up his tense arms and back until they gently laid on each of his cheeks. Sighing, his concerned wife reinforces her message. "Did you hear me, Lucius? Look at me! We've done nothing wrong."

Remarkably, Narcissa regains Lucius' composure somewhat: (At times like this, his wife is the only one able to calm him, outside the Dark Lord of course.) her husband's jitteriness and long breaths wane a bit, meaning he's listening. Finally, Lucius Malfoy turns slowly and eyes his wife after a short moment, except now he's beyond pale and short many words. "Narcissa, how has Draco, our only son, forsaken us like this?" he begs rhetorically, his tone dead of rage and, well, anything really…

The Malfoys' beautiful garden is displayed intricately to the left and on the right down an earthy, cobblestone trail, which circles and slopes cleanly around the Manor. Draco, who enjoys the trail most in the dark, makes at least one night walk through it every week. Tonight particularly, Draco is gone much longer to be free from the tension inside the house, spending twice as much time at each flowery exhibit. Effectively, Draco does feel a wee less tense as he finishes up one last circle of the grounds...

Indeed, Draco Malfoy is ten feet from the trail's "front" gate when a tall, bright female figure walks through the open padlock towards him. He is hit by total surprise, forgetting until now about his father having guests this evening, one of whom must've seen the garden trail beside the home; but really, what kind of unfamiliar guest tries to peruse it alone in the dark? Before he can think, Draco unreadily faces his silver-haired, ethereal-looking intruder, who surprisingly makes him laugh in an instant; it is a comical relief that he is not like 90 % of boys, whom right now would be goggling at the sight of her: See, as jovial and radiant as this teenage girl appears, she is without doubt a half-Veela type. Draco can recognize one easily in light or dark, but not for the same reasons other men can. Veelas are always a big theme at the Manor's large parties, where their pretty faces are hired officially to be "hostesses"; a few years ago, however, Draco found out from his father that the Veelas were really getting paid for "work" done after the party, when Lucius and certain friends watch them strip privately. So not only did his childhood have Veelas everywhere, but their whole mesmerizing allure, from shape to smell to demeanor, is not confusable with that of normal people.

Surprising him, the Veela girl pulls out her wand and points it at him before he has time to front his. "Lumos!" cries the sweet, song-like voice of the Veela. Her thin, strapless white dress is thrown up off her knees by the breeze suddenly, almost showing too much before falling back onto her skin. She smiles suggestively and waits too long before readjusting her wavy dress's length at her knees. Finally, the Veela girl stares at him face-to-face sheepishly, looking frizzled as she says shyly, "...Oh, pardon me! You're Draco, right? My name is Ericka, Ericka Zabini. Our parents are having some Firewhisky inside, so your dad told me you were out here."

Draco looks at her obscurely, refusing to look too taken aback. Despite her words, he still is feeling quite suspicious and is only half-polite in his immediate answer. "Err, yeah, I'm Draco. You're a Zabini? I go to school with Blaize and he's never mentioned anyone like you before."

Ericka the Veela shrugs and makes an apologetic look. "Uh, well how weird since we're first-cousins. I bet he just doesn't want people making jokes about him having a half-Veela relative his age," she guesses, letting out a far too intentional laugh.

Draco scoffs rudely. Smiling sarcastically, he hopes to scare her away. "Oh God, you're one of those! Do you always flaunt your Veela heritage at everyone the moment you meet them, Ericka?" he snaps contentiously.

The Veela stranger shrinks in fear, chinned-down in pleading, "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

But Draco is speechless with detachment, thinking, This Ericka girl is being doubly dramatic on purpose. Bored, he even lets go of his infamous smirk upon her to exercise his ability to ignore her entirely. Too agitated to bother with the stranger's half-bent knees and teary eyes, Draco intently stares aside at the black roses like no one at all is around. But no matter how long he waits for her to skive off, Ericka just keeps standing right there, weak of movement or purpose. Finally Draco turns forward again, toward her technically, but only because he intends to strut past her out the padlock.

But the Veela girl, apparently forgetting all about her pitifulness, jumps right in front of him. Then, blindsiding him, Ericka mercilessly screams, "Stupefy!"

Draco is without a second to defend himself. He feels the sparks from her wand hit his entire body hard, cutting halfway into his shriek of surprise; one moment later Draco is unconscious, collapsing to the ground...

Draco opens his eyes to a crushing headache and darkness in his own bedroom. He is laid-down on top his own bed, arms and legs spread out, and just as he almost thinks it'd all been a bad dream, he tries lifting himself up, can't, tries again, can't. He gasps as his heart skips in realization that he is tied-down to his own bed by a curse! Shaking coldly, Draco just now notices that he is completely naked, too. Feeling a million vulnerable emotions overrun him, Draco finally screams as loud as he can. "SOMEONE BLOODY BREAK THIS CURSE, I'M TRAPPED! I CAN'T MOVE! MUM, DAD, HELP ME!"

Instead, the terribly obvious laugh of his female assailant echoes happily through the room. "Lumos!" Draco is almost blinded when the darkness vanishes and Ericka the vibrant half-Veela reveals herself right in front of him. Delighted, she stretches out her arm so that the wand's light showers over his bare body. "Hello Draco. Fancy seeing me here, eh?"

Draco screams in shock, pure anger coiling through his every nerve. "YOU BLOODY TWAT, LET ME GO!" He pointlessly tries moving again but of course the curse prevents this.

Compassionless, Ericka laughs with rancor at Draco, whom she easily overpowers. Then, without a hint of shyness about herself, the half-Veela girl pulls up her tiny dress and throws it off herself. Draco winces as her beauty exploits before him, her tender breasts and delicate legs revealing perfection. She gazes at him seductively, and in a mollifying voice teases Draco. "Don't you like it, Draco, my beautiful body? It's what your fathers pays me for, to let you embrace it. Come on, young one, take it." Her tone turns enigmatic as she speaks lower than ever. "Come on, Draco, free your inhibitions ... You can touch me if you want."

Draco shuts his eyes and turns his head away in resistance. Disgusted, he boldly returns, "I think that I would rather die."

Ericka laughs loud, louder ... then hops knee-first onto the bed, in the very space between his spread-out legs. Holding her wand over him tantalizingly, she leans in. "Come on, young Malfoy, don't you want me?"

Draco flinches as he half-open his eyes and sees Ericka way too close, violating him. But then he thinks fast until his potential escape illuminates: her allure of course does nothing for him, but everyone remains in denial; Draco is unfortunately pretty sure his parents arranged this despicable situation to revive his 'manhood' at all costs. He calculates mentally, Or something, right? I have to pretend if I want to have a chance at escaping. Not second-guessing his hunch, Draco looks straightforward at Ericka slowly, and then nervously charms her with a classic Malfoy-style smile. He tries looking bashful for an unnerving moment until Ericka smiles back. Yes! Draco thinks to himself, and finally whispers to Ericka, "Well, maybe I can't resist your perfectness anymore, Ericka."

Ericka lifts herself up as she laughs elatedly in apparent success. Then she holds her wand warily over him, and looks closely at him. "Even Draco Malfoy's pride can be shattered when necessary, hmm?" she boasts, then surprises him by waving her wand and declaring, "Finite Incantatem!"

Draco feels his body lift up oh-so-slightly-he is free! His heart races and he is trembling too much as he tries to form one brilliant, life-saving thought. Continuing his masquerade in the meantime, he widens his smile, faking comfort, and then finally, finally control over his life flashes before their eyes—

Draco Malfoy, restored to that vicious, mean character of his usual self, violently seizes the wand out of her unsuspecting hand, making her gasp in fear, and within a millisecond utters, "STUPEFY!" He rolls over just in time so that the full force of her body doesn't fall against his. Looking over breathlessly, in disbelief Draco witnesses that he has won justice for himself; the plain unconsciousness of the evil Veela girl is in this moment the most wonderful thing Draco has ever seen. But not for the reasons dearest Mum and Dad want! He thinks to himself, and then is forcibly overtaken by laughter.

Jumping up safely, more and more confident of the reality before his eyes, Draco lights up his entire bedroom, finds his clothes, and redresses. As he walks toward the door, wand ready, he boastfully has the nerve to pocket the two condoms on his bedside nightstand. "I'm sure they'll come in handy, hehe," he jokes facetiously. Then, loudly as if hoping someone outside will hear him and cower, Draco iterates one derisive ultimatum. "...Now I've got to go bloody ballistic on Lucius and Narcissa, my witless parents, for almost making a rape victim of me — their only son!"