To my dragon, as always, and the mirthful one who is delightful. Also to Gwendolyn, Vinarega, Penelope, Kathlyn and Laguena - you witches kill me.

Malfoy Manner: Old School

"Draco, we've just received an owl from – "


She stopped in the middle of the lavatory. "What, son?"

Draco spluttered for a moment. "You…I'm in the bath, mum!" She blinked. He slapped the surface of the water in frustration. "If I walk in on you in the bath, you lose your bloody gob!"

She looked down for a second, not in repentance. "Draco, you have known since your childhood that my baths are sacred times of great reflection for me."

"Right! And I've respected that." He chuffed. "But it's perfectly alright for you to barge in here on mine?"

She threw her arms wide. "Forgive me. You never specified that –"

"I have to specify that I want a private bath? In my own home?"

Her arms dropped. He didn't care for the narrowing of her eyes, the knowledge spreading across her face. "Draco." He didn't care for that low tone, either. And the fact she was clicking over to the bathtub in three inch heels had him a bit unnerved, as well. He looked away.

"Darling." She was perched on the edge of the tub. "Were you having…a wizard's private time?"

Horror. 'She is not asking me this!' "What? Mum, please…"

She peered into the water. "I suppose I should have knocked."

He swallowed. "Well, it's fine, mum. Really. I'll be out in…a…what are you doing?"

She removed her violet frock coat amiably and loosed the pearl buttons on her right cuff. He watched her pale skin reveal as the blouse's sleeve was rolled succinctly to her elbow. With a pragmatic glance at his face, she plunged her arm into the warm water and took hold of his now only semi-erect cock.

"Oh, shite!" His head thudded against the clawfoot's ample back. "Mother…" He was quickly fully erect again.

She stroked like a fucking professional, even making the necessary concessions for consistency and density of the surrounding water. Her thumb occasionally dragged over the swollen, sensitive head, making his hips buck and the water slosh.

"As I was saying." She breathed in his ear. "We received an owl from Minerva McGonagall today."

'Whoever McWhatthefuck?' He could hardly concentrate on her words. Her hand was bliss incarnate, now sending fingertips down to caress his swollen balls on each downstroke. "Ohhhh?"

"Mm-hmm." She licked the shell of his ear. "She's invited us and other charitable contributors to celebrate the newly renovated Hogwarts' on the first day of term." She sucked on his earlobe. Her hand increased its pace. "Isn't that nice?"

"Fucking brilliant, mum. Don't stop." Draco grabbed her face and pulled down, opening her mouth and ravishing it with his own.

"Oh, I won't love," she assured him. Her grip tightened at just the right moment. He was attacking her neck now. "I suppose you'll come with me? After all, you made the donation."

Her hand was a blur under the amazingly little-disturbed water. His mind was a blur, too. "Yesyesyesyesyes," he panted. His wet arm wrapped tight around her shoulder as he came groaning and shuddering violently.

She withdrew her hand and body quickly. "Excellent." Draco relaxed boneless against the cool porcelain. He would deal with the milky white goo on the water's surface in a moment… His mother dried her arm on his towel then lay it back across the faucet. "Next Thursday," she said. "We'll apparate into Hogsmeade at 6:30 and walk up. Sorting is at 7:00 and I haven't been to one since my own, so I want to see it."

"Hm?" She was a bit blurry really. And what the hell was she talking about? His brain began to work while she buttoned her sleeve. But before it all truly came back to him, she was swinging her frock coat around her shoulders and clicking from the room.

'Bloody hell…' "Hey!" he called after her. But he neither expected nor received a response. She'd gotten what she wanted. He smirked at the cum floating in front of him. 'But so did I, I suppose. The fucking incredible goddess…'

Hogsmeade bustled with children leaving the train station. He recognized a few young returning faces, but most were either first years or complete strangers to him. He'd never really made friends, after all. He enjoyed the smile on his mother's face, though – the small nostalgic one. No doubt she was recalling her own days as a student, and maybe his, too.

His breath caught when Hogwarts came into view. He wasn't really expecting his own nostalgia, but the school looked magnificent. He'd finished his final year there in a daze of NEWTS and reparations, under the pall of his father's execution, and amid the fantastic reality of forbidden lust with the woman at his side.

He looked at her.

Dusk's warm breeze played at her loose hair. Her smile had given way to admiration. "It looks…perfect," she said. He nodded. He wished he could kiss her…but a familial peck wouldn't hurt. He bent, and she flustered a little when his lips stroked her cheek. "Draco…"

"No worries, mum," he answered. "I've no intentions of raping you at the gates of Hogwarts."

They were spotted. Potter and Weasley and Granger. Draco groaned. Narcissa chuckled. Word had gotten out despite Kingsley's promises of secrecy about how generous the Malfoys had been in their contribution of funds to the school. If only they'd known that Draco's reasoning had involved his mother's consent to be well-fucked by her son on the Minister of Magic's massive desk…

The memory made him grin tolerantly as he exchanged the usual one-armed hug.

"I'm glad you two came!" Potter was beaming.

"Well." Draco gestured to Hogwarts' gleaming exterior. "We wanted to see it put to rights." 'And my deviant, gorgeous mother tricked me with a bathtime hand job four days ago,' he added silently.

"Yeah. It's pretty impressive," Potter said.

"Oy, Malfoy." Weasley extended a hand. Draco shook it, nodding tightly in return.

Hermione was clinging to the Weasel and looking dreamy. Draco remembered a recent Daily Prophet announcement of their engagement and decided to earn valuable mother-approval-points with some social schmoozery. "Hermione. Congratulations to you both on your engagement. Mr. Weasley has plucked the finest flower from the wizarding world's garden for himself, it seems."

Granger practically melted. Weasley watched her curl and blush, looking gobsmacked. Sure enough, he saw his mother's eyes widen and the corners of her mouth quirk in delight. If he continued in this vein, he would have a wonderful night, indeed.

Whispers abounded. Clusters of other contributors were watching the Malfoys interact with The Golden Trio and talking. Draco hoped it was good talk. He didn't want to crucio anyone. It would blow his chances later. So he smiled and made eye contact whenever it was offered, surprised and pleased to see answering smiles – even if they were awkward or forced.

Filius Flitwick appeared at the gates and cleared his throat. "First years! Welcome to Hogwarts!" The terrified gaggle of tiny students huddled around Hagrid huddled a little tighter. "Follow Hagrid into the Great Hall to await sorting into your Houses!"

Hagrid began inching the reluctant group forward. "Come on, then!" The giant encouraged. "No need to be scared now. The hat don't bite!" They looked even more scared. Draco nodded to Hagrid as the collective filed past. Hagrid nodded back.

"Honored guests!" Flitwick called again. "You may follow our new students into the Great Hall. Special seating has been prepared for you!" Cliques dispersed, and Draco ushered his mother through the gates, listening to Granger gush about the new wrought iron.

Flitwick caught up to them. "Narcissa Malfoy!" The diminutive professor and now deputy headmaster crowed at her. His mother stopped and bowed respectfully. "The finest charms student Hogwarts ever saw!" He kissed her hand.

Draco didn't miss Granger's doubletake. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Cissa said. "From my favorite professor, that is a fine compliment."

The two chatted amiably as they walked to the Great Hall. Draco took note that the castle's suits of armor were repaired and restored to their proper places. Banners were brightly shining. Intricate stained glass windows shimmered in the torchlight, and it appeared most of the portraits were back at last. Hogwarts was restored, it seemed. He couldn't help wondering how much of it he'd paid for…

Flitwick and his mother talked until it was time for the professor to attend the high table. The Malfoys sat at one of two long tables beside the Halls' double doors. Draco sighed when Potter dropped into the chair beside himself. "Brings back memories, eh, Draco?"

Draco blinked. "I was just here last term, Harry. I hadn't really forgotten anything."

Potter was undaunted. "Well. I mean memories further back…you know…like when we were kids."

Draco blinked still. "Right. Right." No…he remembered Crabbe and Goyle…sneaking around the dungeons at night…breaking into the potions stores and smoking up the poppies…teasing the other houses mercilessly...calling Granger a mudblood…snogging Pansy Parkinson on the astronomy tower... He made a face. Neither Pansy Parkinson nor the astronomy tower were memories he treasured highly.

"It was you!"

The sudden exclamation from down the table came from Hermione Granger. She was leaning forward and pointing at his mother. Narcissa looked at the bushy-haired witch in mild astonishment. Faces were turning toward them.

Granger continued slightly more calmly. "Professor Flitwick told me that only one other witch ever topped my marks in his class. It was you, wasn't it?"

Narcissa was priming an answer when Minerva McGonagall took the podium. She was wearing…a hat, Draco supposed. Huge. Tartan. Some kind of creature was wrapped around the brim…lion? No. No…griffin. Of course. He rolled his eyes. The headmistress called first years to the front and began placing the poor, tattered Sorting Hat on each of their heads.

Draco looked at his mother. She was smiling very sweetly as she watched… Her eyes looked a little wet. He looked back to the sorting. This year's batch of first years seemed so small compared to his year. Sorting took only 20 minutes or so, and culminated in 12 Gryffindors, 18 Hufflepuffs, 11 Ravenclaws and only 9 Slytherins.

The 9 Slytherins looked almost afraid to approach their House table, and their applause was sparse. Draco's lips thinned. His old House had a lot to make up for, it seemed. Some kind of idea started to take shape…somewhere in his mind…he needed do something...for the Slytherins.

He couldn't quite pinpoint it. His stomach growled. The idea would definitely gel after a delicious Hogwarts dinner. He did miss those, occasionally.

But it seemed the headmistress had some things to say. 'Great.' Draco sighed, and she began.

"Greetings to our new students, our returning students and our most honored guests. We are here tonight…because of you. Yak yak yak yak yak. Bugger bugger bugger fuck, shite and tits." He heard a lot of rolling R's. "This year you will see improvements to all areas of the castle, and the new dorms are on and on and on and on and on about absolutely nothing fucking important. Blah blah the Forbidden Forest and blah blah the Whomping Willow and a hundred other things no student will remember because they're starving to waifs and I won't shut the hell up."

In fact, her trill became such a part of the background for him, that he didn't realize she'd stopped until the food appeared and people applauded. Draco clapped twice and went for the toad-in-the-hole and tomato gravy. His mother watched him eat. "You don't eat like this at home," she whispered.

He paused in chugging cold butterbeer. "Oh." He looked back at his empty plate. "Well, I guess it's just not quite the same, mum." He loaded up with mashed potatoes, more tomato gravy and two fried fish filets. He poured on vinegar. Narcissa shook her head. Granger was still staring at her with narrowed eyes.

After dessert of treacle, apple tarts and a bit of his mother's crème brulee, Draco was ready for home. "So," he began. "Do we need to…sign a book or something?"

"We're going on a tour."

He hid his disgust. "Right. A tour."

The tour consisted of highlights, mainly. McGonagall showed off the repaired staircases, the new potions classroom, the courtyard garden and fountain. "Sadly, the dungeons are still being rescued from flood damage and will not be open this year. The Slytherins are now housed on ground level, rather than below it. But we hope our snakes like their new lair."

Draco was pleased to hear Minerva speak of the Slytherins almost fondly. But his mother made a small tisk of disappointment. It did not go unnoticed, and the headmistress addressed her. "Is something wrong, Ms. Malfoy?"

"Oh, no, headmistress!" Narcissa waved off any concern with a graceful flick. "I suppose my sentimental side wanted to visit my old dorm. But it's not important."

McGonagall did a doubletake before leading them onward to the redecorated library. They ended their tour back at the main entrance with the headmistress bidding everyone good-night and thanking them most sincerely for supporting Hogwarts. The crowd dispersed, headed back toward Hogsmeade, but Draco stopped when McGonagall took Narcissa's arm and spoke in an aside.

"Ms. Malfoy. I won't pretend ignorance of the very…generous assistance you and your son in particular offered this school." She sighed. "The dungeons are not dangerous; just mildewed and rather…dank. I welcome you and Draco to visit the old Slytherin dorms if you like. I can understand your…nostalgia."

Narcissa's eyes lit. Draco's rolled. "Thank you, headmistress," his mother breathed. "We shan't be long, I promise."

"Just be careful," McGonagall said. And she bustled away to see to the beginning of a new school year.

Granger walked past, then stopped. She turned. "It was you, wasn't it?" She asked Narcissa. "You were the witch Flitwick talked about in class. The best at charms he'd ever seen."

"Yes, Miss Granger," Cissa answered coolly. "I believe my record marks still stand?"

Granger's lip curled minutely. "Yes," she verified. "I didn't break them. But I came damned close!"

"Mione let's go!" The Weasel said, tugging her.

Potter grinned. "G'night, Draco. Ms. Malfoy."

They bowed together, and once the entrance was clear, made their ways stealthily back into the castle. It was quiet now that students were settling into new dorms. They passed a few opened classrooms on the way to the dungeons. Lights on inside those rooms indicated new and returning professors were preparing for classes.

The click of his mother's heels on the interminable stone spiral leading to the dungeon was intoxicating. Draco was smiling when they reached the cool corridor. He hadn't been here in…a long time. Narcissa's behavior was a bit peculiar. She glanced back a time or two as if to make sure they'd not been followed.

The door to the Slytherin dorm was ajar. Draco remembered a time when a password would have been required to enter. Inside and down the short steps, his mother pulled her wand. "Lux." The sconces about flared to life.

Draco leaned against the wall and watched his mother take in her surroundings. Her face betrayed little emotion, but the way her shoulders were set told him she was reminiscing. He smiled, pleased she was having this time. Besides, he liked watching her hips sway as she approached the window into the Black Lake. She wore a long black frock that served to elongate her legs and he liked thinking about those legs wrapping around his back.

She was mounting the steps to the girls' dorm rooms, likely out to find her old bed. Draco watched her disappear into the now-empty doorframe and looked up at his own dorm rooms. 'Couldn't hurt,' he thought. 'Who knows when I'll have another chance?' He pushed away from the wall and jaunted up.

He breathed a fire charm, wanting to see the sconces alight as they once had been. But the light revealed a great deal of sadness. Chairs were overturned. Trunks destroyed. Possessions scattered. Two beds were upended.

Draco grimaced and made his way through the rubble. His bed was intact, at least. In its place beneath the window. He'd basically paid for that bed, he remembered, giving every student a galleon or something ridiculous. He waved his wand and the dust left the lavishly embroidered duvet – interlocking snakes of a Celtic design. The mote swirled prettily before vanishing. 'Better,' he thought.

He would never have admitted, not to a soul, why he'd wanted that bed beneath the window. Because the day he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, she'd leaned into his ear and whispered. "Little dragon, don't forget it's alright to miss mummy. And it's alright to cry sometimes. Just look up at the stars before you sleep, and know that I am looking at them, too. And I'm thinking of you."

And he had cried himself to sleep for certain that first night, quietly and ashamedly into his pillow. Just like nearly every other boy in the dorm room. He smirked. The smirk disappeared when he remembered the nights that came later. When he would look at the stars and think of her in an entirely different way. And again his pillow had received his quiet cries while his pajamas received the bulk of his shame.

'Enough mooning about in here.' He turned and caught his reflection in a wardrobe mirror. He needed a haircut. He touched at it, leaned in to inspect a bit of detritus on his black satin lapel. He looked down to flick at it, and when he looked back to the mirror, he saw her.

She leaned elegantly in the doorway. Her head relaxed against the frame and her arms crossed her chest. The look on her face was…a new one. Draco cocked his head and studied her reflection while she studied his in the same mirror. Her eyelids were heavy, the long lashes shadowing her gaze. Her lips were softly pursed – not her irritated purse – but a plump, suckable purse.

"I see you got nostalgic, too," she murmured.

Draco gestured helplessly. "Just…wanted to see my old bed."

She was sauntering towards him. He bent and righted an overturned chair, simply to busy his hands. But she didn't come to him. She went to his bed. "This is where you slept, then?"

He straddled the chair, facing the wardrobe, away from her. He couldn't look at her. "Yes."

"Under the stars?"

"Yes." His answer seemed so small…

He heard the satin of her dress moving. She found a discarded Slytherin tie hanging from the loose wardrobe door and slid it down. "Were you happy here, Draco?" She wandered again out of his sight.

He plucked at a crack in the chair's back. "I was…for the most part."

"For the most part?"

He took a deep breath. The crack was terribly fascinating. "I wish now that…that I'd been nicer. To more people. Made more friends, I guess. Now that I've matured I can say that I…lacked discipline as a student, mum. I was…a bit of a bully."


Suddenly green and silver stripes obscured his vision. Then, total darkness as silk cinched tight at his nape. Slight panic set in. "Mother?"

Firm hands pushed him back to the seat and slid down his arms. Her breath slithered into his ear. "Lets see if your discipline has matured with the rest of you, shall we, dragon?" She curled his hands over the chair back. "Don't let go until I tell you to."

Her voice was deeper than he ever remembered hearing it. It chilled him. He swallowed and felt his heart begin beating erratically. 'Fuck me. Is this really happening?'

Her fingers slipped across the nape of his neck. He squirmed. She pressed her breasts into his back as she kissed his sensitive ears. He moaned. Sharp little teeth nipped his lobe. He hissed a breath. "Merlin…"

Her hands firmly and brusquley tilted his head back til her lips could brush his. The odd angle was…tingly. "I'm not Merlin," she rasped into his open, desperate mouth. "I'm your mother." The lips fell on his properly. He gasped and his hands nearly left the chair. He jerked them back, exhaling loudly into their wet, ardent kiss.

Her fingers were loosing his fine tie, unbuttoning his charcoal shirt. He broke their kiss when his bared abdomen lurched under her scraping nails. "Ugh!"

"Shhh." She bit at his bottom lip.

Still their mouths were only centimeters apart. His hands ached to touch her, tongue ached to taste her and cock ached to fuck her. Her hands were unbuckling his belt, smoothly picking open his trouser buttons. He bucked towards the teasing touch and the chair jolted. "Still," she said, and licked the inside of his bottom lip.

Oh, she was a sweet devil. Her hand drew his erection out in an almost businesslike manner, the other resting on his shoulder. "Do you want to fuck me, dragon?" Even her tone was brisk and no-nonsense.

"Yes!" She stroked once.

"Did you ever think about me here? In your school bed?" Another stroke.

He turned his head. What a thing to admit… She bit a trail up the side of his neck. Another stroke. "Did you?"

"Fuck, yes," he choked. A stroke.

"Mmmm. Did you think of fucking me even then, Draco?" Another stroke.

"Mum, please…" A faster, tighter stroke. He jumped again. "Yes. Yes!"

Her thumb tickled just underneath the head of his cock. "Did you ever imagine having me in this bed?" The strokes became lighter, but regular.

"Yes, mother." He hated his desperate pitch.

Her hands left him. Her body left him. The tie was pulled away from his eyes and she stood before him completely naked. "Come on, then," she said, backing towards the bed.

He knocked the chair back to the floor when he stood, nearly tripped over it as he scrambled to her. She was chuckling as she slid back on the thick comforter. He tore his clothes off, dropping them in a trail behind him like Hansel and Gretel might have done. He left the socks and was sliding between her legs, up her body.

She was pale as the moon in the window and svelte, smooth as the peacocks at home. He kissed her calves, knees, the inside of her thighs. Occasionally he bit. She squirmed and gasped, made her noises; the little mewls and whimpers and moans that told him he had her approval.

He cupped his hand behind one knee and hooked it upward, creating a salacious angle for eating her out. "Oh!" She gave him a full fledged cry when his tongue went straight for the kill, a long, flat stroke from slit to clit. "Yes, Draco!"

And she was vocal tonight. Well. Usually, he loved to hear her talk, begged, encouraged and wrung those lewd, libidinous dialogues from her. But tonight, a little revenge was in order. The chair had been delicious cruelty. He felt that he deserved her speechless and monosyllabic.

It wasn't difficult. Within minutes she was beyond words, grunting, panting and keening as he worked her. He lifted her hips to where he could even tongue her tight pucker, knowing that would inflame her. Indeed, she shot to her elbows. "Dra – "

But his mouth was back on her cunt in seconds, only the tip of his finger remaining to tease her arse. The tease worked. She tensed, and the death rattle issued from her throat. "Guh…" She came swiftly and Draco didn't let up til the tiny contractions beneath his tongue stopped.

Her body went lax. He kissed his way up it, pausing to worship her breasts before slipping easily inside her. "Fuck…" He paused to breathe. There was nothing like her wetness after she came.

He felt her legs wrap around his waist and smiled into her neck. Her arms encircled his back. "Son."

He looked at her face, held that face in his hands, balanced on shaking elbows.

"Yes, mum?"

"You are so good, Draco…"

He'd begun to pump in and out of her, never losing her eyes. He grinned crookedly. "I'm glad I can please you."

"I don't mean like this," she managed.

"Oh?" He almost paused, but she felt soooo impossibly perfect.

"I mean you're a good man, love." And those eyes were so earnest, so sincere and there were tears gathering.

He kissed those tears away. "Guess I was raised right, after all," he growled. More tears rose as he pounded into her, but he let those fall. "I love you, witch." She wept at that. He kissed her sloppily. Both his balls and throat felt tight.

"I love you, too, dragon," she whispered against his swollen lips.

"Oh, fuck!" He gathered her to him and shattered inside her. He didn't feel her answering orgasm, but her shaking. She was wracked with sobs. He caught his breath and heard her gasping for hers. "It's alright, mum." Hell, was he crying, too? He sniffled. Tasted tears. 'Bollocks.'

The sweat on their bodies cooled in the dungeon's cool, moist air. Draco maneuvered them deftly under his blankets, rolling so she rested her head atop his chest. They embraced each other loosely. His mother started to doze, so he broke the silence. "Think we could stay here tonight?"

She chuckled. "No. I think we'd better sneak out gracefully."

He nodded. "We can take the passage behind the atrium and come up by the courtyard."

She hummed. "Or we could use the passage behind the unicorn tapestry on the first floor and come out on the west near the greenhouses."

His forehead creased. "I never knew about that."

"Good." She sighed and pushed away reluctantly. They dressed quietly. Narcissa reknotted his tie. He hooked the eye at the back of her dress. Straightened their hair as best they could. "Ready?" She asked.

He took one last look at the bed and the window, smiling a much larger smile now. "Yeah. Let's go."

A clatter in the far corner sent both their heads whipping…but there was nothing to be seen. As they descended the stairs, Draco spoke. "Did you mean that, mum? About me being a good man?"

She stopped short and looked up at him. "Of course, I did, son. You are a good man. And becoming even better."

He smirked. "Thanks."

Cissa held her shoes while they climbed to the first floor. They checked around a corner and skittered to another. Turning to check around that corner, Draco jumped back from the face of Argus Filch. "Shit!"

He bumped into his mother, who whirled out gracefully with her wand drawn.

The Malfoys, intimately familiar with bad situations, could be prone to defensive overreaction.

She withdrew her arm, however, when she saw the angry squib's glare. "Mr. Filch." She sighed, caught her breath yet again. "Forgive me! My son and I were just leaving the – "

"Slytherin dorms, yes I know." Filch snarled. That's when they noticed his cat purring in his arms. "Mrs. Norris tells me," he added.

Draco and his mother froze and flushed brightly. The clatter… "Well," she said. "We had permission to visit."

"From the headmistress!" Draco added.

"And now we're…leaving," Narcissa finished.

Filch grunted. "Follow me. I'll let you out the main. It's locked now."

They looked at each other, but followed obediently, heads a bit bowed. Draco felt eyes on him and looked up. Over Filch's shoulder, Mrs. Norris stared at him. Her eyes were narrow, but soft. He couldn't read cat expressions very well and in that moment he wished he could. Then, the cat yawned.

And he could swear it winked.

Filch pushed open the doors and he swept his mother away by the hand. Through the gates, they paused winded and excited. "I think we're safe," Draco said.

His mother took his arm. "I don't care." But before more could be said about that, she'd apparated them home.