Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Draco didn’t know how Lucius made it out of Britain without alerting anyone. Not even Narcissa. But he could guess. The Malfoy family, even with its tarnished reputation still had its fingers in many, many pies.
Upon seeing Lucius, he was happy. They might have not been the most emotional or loving family, but this was his only blood relation that actually gave a damn. He was always glad to see him.
But then he did a double take.
Because where once Lord Malfoy’s supernatural beauty turned heads, now he had lost something. Oh, he was still gorgeous and the muggle girls that passed them by still blushed and giggled, but he was no longer what he once was. Now he looked tired. Gaunt. Resigned. Broken.
And that was terrifying.
Because Draco didn’t think that there was anything that could break Lucius Malfoy. He once thought that his papa would still be the epitome of perfection even staring Death in the face.
He was wrong.
And while he was happy to see him, the upcoming conversation filled Draco with dread.
But when papa discreetly steered him towards a secluded alleyway, grabbed his elbow and pulled him in with a Portkey, Draco didn’t fight. And when they appeared in a very muggle-appearing house he couldn’t muster up any surprise that his pureblood supremacist of a parent not only had the knowledge to fish him out in muggle France, but owned a perfectly muggle house. But then again, such a disguise was perfect. If his own son didn’t expect such from Lucius Malfoy, then his enemies and ‘friends’ wouldn’t either.
Lucius Malfoy once again showed himself a true Slytherin.
But his own deviousness was the last thing on his mind.
“…Draco…” his voice was a raspy whisper. Barely audible. Far from the enticing baritone he once had.
“Papa…” Draco had thought that once they meet face-to-face that he would start and wouldn’t be able to stop until he ran out of words. That he would voice all his fears and complaints. All his hopes and dreams. But now that Lucius is before him he found himself lost for words.
“Draco, I have some things I need to tell you. Important things.”
“Papa?”
“Our endeavors aren’t going so well. You have probably guessed that from the limited news that can escape Britain. But for the first time in a long time I cannot predict how the future will affect our family. I have lost the Dark Lord’s favor. If I even had it in the first place… But that doesn’t stop that despicable half-blood from taking base in our mansion and draining our coffers dry. My refusal to make you take the Dark Mark only worsens his ire.
I had even considered changing sides and secretly supporting Dumbledore. However, I thought better of it. One only has to look at Severus Snape for an example of how the Light treats spies. And to think that there was a time when I had considered the man a friend and even thought to make him your godfather…”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Snape was so engrossed with the mudblooded gold-digger Lily Evans that he couldn’t see further than his own nose. As such, he was very open for manipulation. He had thus become a slave for two masters. His loyalty would have never been to you. Especially if he had learnt of your true parentage. And although Barty Crouch Jr. made a terrible absentee of a godparent, I am glad for my choice. Because dead men tell no tales while Snape would have likely ran straight to Dumbledore with our secrets.”
“I did hear things about Snape. How he is so unfit to teach it’s not even funny. How his teaching is torture to both him and his students. How no one knows why he still stays at Hogwarts. How he was a promising researcher once upon a time…”
“That’s one way of putting it. Draco, my son, I have no doubt that the so-called Light will win eventually. Voldemort is no Grindelwald. He is just a terrorist in comparison to a great revolutionary. But regardless of the side we chose to support at the very end, I have little doubt that we will not get away unscathed. It is only through great luck that I had split out fortune at the very beginning of obtaining my Lordship. The official Malfoy accounts hold barely a fifth of it. The rest has either been converted to gold or collects interest in muggle banks for a variety of fake identities.
The Malfoy family library had been moved years ago. We truly are lucky that Abraxas had never actually let the half-blood into it and that the Malfoys were never actually known for their skill or magical power. Someone will certainly receive a surprise upon seeing our collection of Ministry-approved books.
Draco, I have little hope to make it out of this free or even alive. But you? There is absolutely nothing the Ministry or the ‘Light’ could pin onto you. You have no Mark. You didn’t participate in raids. You haven’t even been to Britain in years. However, there is still a chance that they will not be satisfied with whatever will remain in our Gringotts Vaults after the half-blood is through with them. There will likely be attempts to pressure or frame you. After it is all seemingly over, whatever you do, stay out of Britain.”
“But Papa!”
“No buts Draco! You are the only thing of true value I have left in this life! I do not want to lose you. Just in case, we will perform multiple rituals brought to our family by our Elven ancestors. They are a Malfoy family secret. You will not tell anyone. Not even Narcissa. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I do. But…”
“No buts Draco. You will not argue with me on this. There are three rituals we must perform. The first will form a pocket dimension connected to your soul. As long as you remember about its existence you will be able to access anything hidden there. I will transfer all the gold left to our name, the family library as well as some necessities. This is so that even in a search, our secrets shall be safe. The second ritual is one that transfers the parent’s magical power to the child upon the parent’s death. And the third…well I hope that you will never have to find out what it is for.”