Chapter 7
Chapter 7
When the Dark Lord came back, Draco didn’t know how to feel.
He should be happy.
He should be.
He wasn’t.
He was scared.
The Dark Lord was not the father he imagined him to be. Such a man could never know about Draco’s parentage. He could basically smell the crazy on him.
What made it worse were the appreciative glances.
That was definitely not the kind of attention he wanted to receive from his own father thank you very much. Especially one that looks like a failed alchemical experiment where a human was cross-bred with a snake. Malfoys have better taste than that.
Luckily, he wasn’t the only one to notice. Lucius was as vigilant as ever. The summer after his fourth year was the last time he ever went home. It was France with Narcissa from then onward.
To say that the Dark Lord was furious was an understatement. More so that the Malfoy heir didn’t take his mark.
But oh well. Too bad, so sad.
Draco was safe.
For now.
But in his seventh year things went from bad to worse. Britain was a war zone.
And Lucius was trapped.
He didn’t know what he would have done if they didn’t have Narcissa. She was a lifesaver. Literally.
She kept the calm. And he was always welcome to stay with her in France. He didn’t have to come back to Britain. Didn’t have to take the Dark Mark. Didn’t have to participate in raids. Didn’t have to fear for his life by staying in the vicinity of the Dark Lord.
But regardless of all the good things, some conversations he would have loved to avoid.
Especially the last one he had with Papa.
Because it wasn’t really a conversation.
It was goodbye.