Title: Who He Is

Author: Lilith ([email protected] )

Rating: R-ish (more of a PG-15)

Warnings: OotP Spoilers, Slash, Character death (only mentioned)

Genre: General/Angst/Fluff

Disclaimer: Wonderful characters not mine, but JKR�s. Verus is mine though. All mine! ^_^

Notes: First and foremost, this story is a gift solely to Lorielen, a wonderful friend who has nurtured my Draco muse, and inspired me to write this. And this is all thanks to her. If it wasn�t for her I would never have written this, nor would I have �experimented� with Voldie. Thank you! Also, there is no chronological order to the various scenes. And for those of you who get squicked easily, don�t worry, it won�t be LM/DM. The title is still subject to change.

 

*~*~*

 

            �Daddy!� screamed the little boy who ran down the marble steps like a bullet, and in a perfect imitation of a cat pouncing the boy flung himself against his father�s legs, clinging hard onto the robes.

            Lucius was obviously a bit startled. The boy had knocked the breath out of him, for Merlin�s sake. That wasn�t what Lucius had taught him. But the tall elegant man couldn�t help himself and smiled at the boy�s blatant demonstration of affection.

            �I missed you so much, Daddy!� the sound was muffled, for the boy still pressed his cheek against his father�s embroidered cloak. This other declaration did not startle Lucius so much, for the boy always was very attached to him, and constantly made it clear that he cared deeply for his father. What had startled Lucius, however, was the speed the boy had come shooting down the steps, two at a time. Those were highly polished marble steps. The boy could have easily stumbled and rolled down them, maybe even accidentally killing himself in the process. It wouldn�t do for a Malfoy heir to die so young and such a clumsy death, especially his precious son.

            Lucius forced the boy�s arms to disentangle from his cloak, and held Draco�s shoulders a safe distance away, so he could look at the boy. Draco was positively shimmering with delight, face flushed, eyes twinkling, smile wide showing all his milky teeth. Lucius wanted to smile proudly at his son, showing his content that the youngest Malfoy was so fond of him. But he held his resolve, and instead a mask of reprimand fell onto his face.

            �Draco,� the man started, �What have I told you about running in the house? And about Malfoy behavior?�

            The boy clearly winced. �I am sorry, Father. I shouldn�t have done that.�

            �Yes, you shouldn�t have. But it does not change the fact that you did. A Malfoy does not run around like a lunatic, nor does he hurl himself on someone else. No matter what the circumstances a Malfoy holds himself imperiously above all others. Do you understand?�

            �Yes, Father,� The little boy was fidgeting with his hands, looking down at the floor, inspecting the dark details in the marble. Then he raised his head and looked directly into his father�s eyes, pools of quicksilver which swirled around, a mirror of his own. �Father� What is �imperosly�?�

            Lucius sighed only to hold back the chuckle that threatened to break at his son�s childish ignorance and mispronunciation. �To be imperious is to be overbearing and domineering. In other words, it is to hold oneself high above all others, like an emperor with power and grace. Understood?�

            �I-I think so,� the boy stuttered, still processing the information, and trying to store it.

            �Well, now we have to settle on a punishment for you,� the boy recoiled and winced again. �Oh, you thought you wouldn�t be punished, did you? I have repeated myself over and over again, and still you disobey. This way you will think on the consequences before you act.�

            �Yes, Father.� Draco was clearly crest-fallen, voice full of submission. Why was Daddy so angry? He only wanted to be nice to Daddy.

            �So, have you been behaving with your cousins? Where are they?� Lucius began to walk down one of the long corridors, heading for his study. Draco was following, and as he heard his father�s enquiry he instantly brightened up, the characteristic short attention span that children have making itself thoroughly clear to Lucius.

             �Oh, Daddy! They are up in the blue drawing room. I made cousin Gaius cry today! And got a new pony for myself! While we were ridding this afternoon, cousin Verus ended promising to give me one of his ponies without even noticing it. And now he�ll have to give it to me, because Mother and Aunt Marguerite heard him saying it! So he has to keep his word as a wizard, doesn�t he, Father?� Draco�s eyes were twinkling again, the pools of quicksilver twirling rapidly, as he bragged about his achievements.

            �Yes, of course. A pureblood wizard should always keep his promise to another. But you did not fight them, did you, Draco?�

            �No, Daddy, of course not. I was only playing nicely with them.� It was almost obscene how the boy had already mustered that sly smirk.

            Lucius reached the door to his study and entered, waiting his son to come in and then closed the door behind him. He took his cloak off of his shoulders, dropping neatly the heavy and rich cloth onto one of the velvet chairs. He then walked over to his monstrous carved mahogany desk, and pulled out a long ruler from one of the drawers.

            �This will be your punishment. Extend your hand, Draco.� Lucius did not approve of physically harming a child on the face, arms, and any other body parts, but he did believe that hitting a child on the hand to get a point across was essential if the child did not seem to understand. The memory of the pain always made the child reconsider before breaking a rule.

            Draco hesitantly extended his hand towards his father. He did not cry out as the rule came down the first time, hitting the soft pads which were full of sensitive nerves. Nor did he pull his hand back when the rule came down a second time.  The third time was worst, for the rule hit the junction of his fingers with his hand, his eyes watering, but he did not cry. Daddy would not like that. By the fourth his hand was red and a bit swollen, and Draco did not take his eyes off of them. At the final strike he winced slightly, but nothing more. He then enveloped his wounded hand in his other, rubbing it a bit, and willing the tears to go away, his eyes burning with them as much as his hand did.

            Lucius was proud. His chest swelled with satisfaction as he watched his son controlling himself, trying not to show weakness. He watched the boy swallowing the tears so they wouldn�t fall, as the boy firmly held his ground. Therefore he could not stop himself from kneeling down in front of his son and taking the child�s small upset hand in his larger ones, and massaging it softly. He stared directly into his son�s eyes. �I hope this has taught you your lesson,� his voice still sharp.

            �Yes, Father,� the boy�s, in the other hand, betrayed him, cracking slightly.

            �Go on now. You may go to the drawing room to play with your cousins.� Lucius released his son�s hand and stood up.

            �Can�t I stay here, Daddy?� Draco enquired, eyes eager.

            �Wouldn�t you prefer to play with your cousins? They are leaving soon.�

            �I know, but they are boring. I never get to see you, Daddy, so I want to stay here.�

            �But my work is boring, as you say. I won�t be able to give you attention.�

            �I don�t care,� Draco plopped down on one of the chairs in front of the huge empty hearth in which a man could easily stand in �I just want to be with you, Daddy.�

            �All right, then. But do not disturb me. As soon as you get restless, leave to play with you cousins, so you will not disrupt.� Lucius walked over to the hearth to light a fire. He then sat down at his desk and began to write letters and assignments. But the boy did not leave, nor did he get bored. The calm silence lasted at least another hour.

 

*~*~*

 

             Draco was upset and exasperated. To try and make his mother change her mind when it was already set was like hitting his head repeatedly against a brick wall, trying to crack it. But he would keep trying. He would not give in to her will this time. The matter was too personal, and she had nothing to do with it. It did not matter that for generations this custom had been kept. He still would not follow it. At least not now.

            �Mother, stop. You are giving me a headache. How many times will I have to repeat that I do not want to choose a bride right now?� He pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to look at his mother.

            Narcissa frowned. �I do not care! You have to choose a bride right now! Then you can court her, be engaged for a year, and marry by your twentieth birthday.  As I was saying, I think you should take a young-�

            Draco rudely cut her off, desperate to get rid of this conversation. �Mother, listen. I-Do-Not-Care. I do not want to waste my youth on some pompous girl. Let me have my time first. Let me enjoy myself. Then I will think about the subject.�

            Draco turned to his mother, and looked at her straight on, trying to make a point. He had thankfully inherited Lucius� stare, which enabled him to convince many people by just looking at them with his domineering silver orbs. It had taken time for this trait to manifest itself, but now that he was a young man it had finally decided to bloom, together with many others.

            Narcissa was not affected. Years of living with Lucius had taught her to hold her ground, and she stared right back at her son, her delicate brows furrowing. Narcissa was still a young woman, having barely reached forty. She still looked the beauty that she always was, though now she had an added charm from the years she had already lived. And Narcissa had always been old-fashioned, always following the traditions when she could. So she did not understand her son. She did not understand why he was so adamant about not marrying at this stage. True, Lucius had only married her when he was twenty-five, but twenty was as good as any other age. Even better, for an heir would be produced earlier.

            It did not come as a shock that she did not understand him. Draco had always been more a son to Lucius than to her, taking on more of his traits, and seeking his company rather than hers. And she did not waste her time mourning this.  But for her son to refuse taking a bride? That was ridiculous!  She had to beat some sense into the boy.

            �Why, Draco? Why do you shun such a honourable custom?�

            The blond young man continued staring at her, then turned his eyes and concentrating on the dancing flames in the hearth. �There are many reasons, Mother,� he fell silent for a while and continued analysing the beautiful orange blaze, �I do not want to be tied down just yet. All I ask is for some more time. I want to have a relationship with my future wife based on respect and understanding, like yours, but none of the girls you have mentioned so far are worthy of my respect, and I feel revulsion even thinking of producing an heir with them. So I ask you to have patience. I will find her, so do not worry, and she will be a woman to make you and Father both proud, a woman to match me. But I obviously do not yet know where this witch might be, so I ask you to wait a bit longer. Then I will give you a beautiful grandchild.

            �There is also the issue that, as you know, I rather enjoy male company. I want to savour this taste of mine before I marry. And Father�s absence is still too confusing, as if a big vacuum opened where he stood, and I need time to deal with that. So please understand.�

            Narcissa didn�t understand. She just couldn�t. She had been raised to think about marriage. But she would try. She understood what he meant about the loss of Lucius� presence, but it had nothing to do with his marriage. If anything, it should encourage him to produce an heir. But if this meant her son�s happiness, she would try. After all, she had seen how miserable marriages had made an entire family crumble, and she did not want this for her own. So she would try.

            �All right. I will wait. But remember, Draco, that we cannot wait forever. You will have to settle down sometime, and you know how I rather it be sooner than later. And you will forsake this taste of yours, for no son of mine will cheat on his wife.� Narcissa was not happy with this. Not at all. You could take a horse to a fountain, but you could not make it drink. So she would wait.

            Draco smiled frankly at his mother, and stood up, going over to her chair. He leaned over and kissed her forehead lightly and softly. �Thank you, Mother.� He left the room without saying anything else.

 

*~*~*

 

            �My Lord, how wonderful that you have decided to visit.� Lucius Malfoy drawled lazily at his Lord, being truthful.

            �How could I not have come, Lucius? I am anxious to see your little addition to our pure-blooded community. Draco, isn�t it?� Voldemort looked at Lucius, boring holes into the other man with his crimson eyes, eyes which held all the blood of the deaths he had caused. But Lord Voldemort was no inconsiderate man. Nor was he cold as an iceberg, as he had heard one of his Death Eaters say once�and once only, for the insolate man had lost his ability to speak after this demonstration of ingratitude. So Lord Voldemort could be found in the Malfoy estate in that warm spring�s night to check up on his most loyal follower and his new heir, to visit the child and his exhausted mother.

            �Yes, my Lord. Draco is his name. As you might recall, it was the name of my grandfather. Brandy, my Lord?� Lucius offered. The blond man had always been a good host, and never wanted to make his guests feel that there was something wanting, especially not one as important as the Dark Lord.

            �No, no, thank you, Lucius. Yes, I do recall him. Unfortunately I was never able to meet him. Pity he died in Grindewald�s last war. I heard he was a very brave man, and an example of a wizard. His name was an excellent choice to give to your son.� Voldemort ran his spidery fingers over his thin lips, looking steadily at Lucius, gaze never faltering. 

            Lucius shivered at the stare and at the compliment. �Thank you, my Lord.� The tall blond man had always been amazed by those eyes. The redness of them, their unnatural glaze. The way they acted perfectly as shutters to the Dark Lord�s soul, never, except when his Lord was enraged or amused, did they betray him. Lucius only thought that it was a pity that those eyes came with such a high price, for his Lord was very sensitive to brightness because of them. No matter, Lucius would not have exchanged his pools of quicksilver even if offered, for his natural eyes suited him.

            �Is Narcissa well, Lucius? I heard it was a strenuous process.� Voldemort leaned back on his chair, enjoying the lushness of it. Although not widely know, Voldemort did have some hedonist qualities to him.

            �Yes, she is well, my Lord. Tired, but well. She was in labour for nearly ten hours before the petite child was born. Thankfully the mediwizards did not have to result to magic in the end, and he was born rather healthy.� Lucius could not hold back the pride in his voice. His son was not beautiful�babies seldom were�but it was his son. A healthy young bundle of life which was his and his wife�s.

             Voldemort chuckled slightly. �I see that he is a stubborn little one already. Clung onto his mother�s womb, now did he?� he chuckled a bit more �Though it is nice to hear that Narcissa is fine. She was a wonderful choice for a wife, Lucius.�

            �Thank you, my Lord.�

            �Can I see him now?� Voldemort�s question was a demand in disguise, and Lucius knew this. The Dark Lord only seemed to ask because it was the proper thing etiquette demanded.

            �Yes, of course. Please follow me, my Lord.� Lucius gracefully stood up, and lead the Dark Lord down the majestic halls, up to the second floor, and into a large room painted in a light green.  The furniture seemed to follow Lucius� taste for mahogany, even in a baby�s room. The room was stern, and yet it seemed proper, with no flying little dragons decorating the walls, nor feisty unicorns. The room was barely lit with a few well-placed candles, throwing a warm light in all directions. There was a rocking chair in a corner, in which Narcissa was sitting, looking drained. And still this superb woman held her composure, not a hair out of place--an unusual characteristic for a mother with a newborn child.

And a beautiful cradle stood in the middle of the room, with a dark man leaning over it, one of his hands disappearing into the cradle. As soon as he heard the muffled steps coming closer, he looked up, surprised to see his Lord. He turned to face them, but still his hand remained hidden in the cradle.

�My Lord, what an honour to see you,� he bowed down his head, then informed: �He just woke up.�

Narcissa stood up and also acknowledged Voldemort, and wanted to walk over, but the Dark Lord stopped her before she could. �No, Narcissa, please sit. You need your rest.� Narcissa muttered her gratitude.

�And Lucius! How could you not have informed me that Severus was here? How delightful.� Voldemort�s tone was not mocking, nor was it angry. He was indeed delighted to see both of his most loyal followers this night.

�I am sorry, My Lord. I seemed to have forgotten to mention it to you.�

�Yes, yes, of course. Your child is much more important right now than Severus is, isn�t it.� Severus wasn�t offended, for it was the truth. One�s first-born son is much more important in those first few months than anything else in a parent�s life. But Lucius could not help but exchange a look with Severus.

Voldemort walked over to the cradle, and peered down. The baby was wrinkled, but very pale, and seemed very small. His bright blue orbs rolled with curiosity while looking at Severus. These eyes were big and bright, the characteristic blue of the Black family, but Lucius was sure the colour would change, for he had also been born with bright blue eyes which had morphed into his steely grey. The child already had a bright blond crop of hair growing on his head, and wore a dark grey outfit.

But what the Dark Lord found most remarkable was why Severus� hand had seemed stuck in the cradle. The young Malfoy was clinging onto it as if for dear life, his chubby diminutive hands enclosing onto Severus� index finger, and the boy seemed to be pulling on it enthusiastically, his chubby legs kicking and jerking. Severus seemed to be a bit uncomfortable with the baby�s attention; however, he did smile down at the child. But as soon as baby Draco found that red eyes were watching him, the focus of his attention changed, and his big bright eyes rolled over to analyse the Dark Lord. He unlatched himself from Severus, and extended his plump hands to Voldemort. The man could not resist and extended his hand, letting the boy fasten onto him instead, and he was surprised by the boy�s strength.

�Strong little fellow, isn�t he, Lucius?� but Voldemort did not take his eyes off the child, smiling down at him, warmth evident instead of discontent or iciness. He continued allowing the child to entertain himself with his finger, until the baby decided to experiment and put it into his mouth. Voldemort pulled his hand back then, but not forcefully so he would not harm the child.

At the loss of his toy, the boy stared up, discontent, eyes rotating between the three men looming enquiringly over him. And suddenly he started to cry loudly and shrilly, his face wrinkling up further, bright eyes disappearing behind closed lids, legs and arms kicking forcefully in apparent rage.

�My Lord,� Narcissa said from the corner �I do not wish to sound rude, but I would like some privacy. Draco is restless because it is his time to feed, and not only is it very dull, but-�

�No need to explain yourself, Narcissa. I will leave you in peace to feed him.�

�Thank you, My Lord. If you would like, you could return later on after he has been fed.�

�No, no, I do not wish to bother you or the baby further.�

Narcissa smiled at Voldemort, then turned to Lucius. �Lucius, could you be a darling and bring him here, please? Remember to support his head.�

 Lucius reached in the cradle and brought up the little bundle, ever so careful with his fragile little burden. He watched his son wail ferociously, and instead of it annoying him, it amused him how the child had such a powerful voice in such a small and tender body. He then took the baby to his wife, and gave him to her, and kissed Narcissa softly on her hair.

�Let us move to the drawing room. I am sure you will accept the brandy now, my Lord.�

�Yes, thank you, Lucius,� And as the three men walked down the corridor to the other room, he added, �I am sure you will raise him well, Lucius. And I do hope to see him in my ranks when he comes of age.�

�Of course, my Lord.�

 

*~*~*

 

            The ballroom was crowded with people, many which Draco did not even know. But that did not matter, for the band was playing animatedly, there was food to spare, and everyone important to Draco was here today.

            Voldemort had explicitly told Draco and his father that he would be delighted to join the festivities, but it would not do for him to simply show up at a party with Ministry officials. So he had said he would compensate his absence with a special treat later on. Draco could not help but be curious.

            Currently Draco was walking aimlessly around the ballroom, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. Cousin Verus had gone to the toilette, and in the meantime he would try to find someone else. Soon he found a dark figure standing alone in a corner, and Draco could not help but smirk at the predictability of this. He walked over to his Professor.

            �Professor Snape, enjoying yourself?�

            �Yes, thank you, Draco.� Snape was clad in black dress robes, as already foreseen, and he held a glass of champagne. He then raised it up. �To your good fortune,�

            Draco rose up his goblet, �To our good fortune,� Draco then took a sip and added, �Dreadful, isn�t it? Apple juice. I�m still not allowed to drink anything either than this.�

            �And rightfully so. You are turning fifteen tonight, Draco, and it is no time for you to start drinking,� said the man disapprovingly.

            �Oh, you are no fun, Professor.� Draco smiled good-naturedly, looking dashing in his dark blue and silver robes, which brought out the pale tinge of his skin, and the bright grey eyes.

            �That is right. I am not meant to be fun. I am your teacher, and am supposed to instruct you so you might become a respectful man, who will make his decisions fairly and correctly.�

            At this point Draco jumped suddenly, fast fingers poking his ribcage from behind. Draco yelped slightly, and turned around to see Verus standing behind him with a handsome smile plastered on his face, and Draco smiled back.

            �Professor, this is my cousin Verus. I believe you might have met him. And this, Verus, is my Potions professor at Hogwarts, and my Head of House, Severus Snape.�

            Verus had always been one of Draco�s favourite cousins, especially after the �pony incident�. Two years his senior, Verus had a good-looking appearance with dark blue eyes and straight black hair which reached his chin. His features were over-all soft, but amazingly enough manly at the same time. A good-natured young man, he still retained the Slytherin quality most had in the House of Black and Lestrange, from which Verus descended. Although Verus was not a direct cousin, he and his younger brother Gaius had been introduced to fill in the blank left by both Narcissa�s sisters�one erased from the family, the other in Azkaban.  Verus� mother was a second cousin of Narcissa�s, and his father a cousin to Draco�s uncle Rodolphus. But once Rodolphus, Bellatrix and Radan were arrested, his parents decided that his education would be held in Durmstrang, so if they too were arrested, the boy would not be so directly affected.

            �Pleasure to meet you, Professor. Draco talks very highly of you.� Verus extended his hand out to Snape, and shook the Professor�s hand.

            �Oh, does he, now?�

            �Uh, I think we should go, Verus. Your mother seems to be calling you.� Draco�s eyes started to squirt around the hall, trying not to look at the Professor. Verus quickly understood.

            �Oh, right. Well, it was a pleasure, Professor.�

            �Equally.�

            And soon both boys were stumbling through the gardens, laughing hysterically. Draco had decided to take Verus� company for the evening simply because Verus was one of the eldest of his generation, so Draco allowed Gregory and Vincent to remain with the girls, while he hung about Verus. Plus, Verus was much more good-looking that either Vincent or Gregory could ever dream of being, so it made Draco look more regal to walk around with him instead.

            As the boys stumbled around each other, they came upon the meadow which extended behind the first gardens which were closer to the manor.  Verus looked over to a large, magnificent oak that had been present in the grounds for generations of Malfoys, its rich leafage gleaming in the bright moonlight, and grabbed Draco�s hand, heading for the oak.

            Both of them leaned against the rough bark of the tree, trying to catch their breath. Verus recovered first, and looked down at his cousin, whose eyes were obscenely bright, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. �You look most adorable, cousin.�

            Draco looked at Verus, whose cheeks were also flushed, and his characteristic smile was in place. �Thank you, cousin. You look most handsome tonight,� It did not even occur to Draco until later that what he had said was most unusual and improper. Maybe it had been the vodka that Verus had been able to slip into Draco�s apple juice, or maybe it was just that Draco felt loosened up around his cousin. In any case, he had said his mind to his cousin, and watched amused as Verus� smile became a feral smirk. And before he knew it, his cousin was pressing him against the bark of the oak, his face merely a breath away from his cousin�s.

            �Why, thank you, cousin,� And then Draco felt Verus� lips come crashing down on his. At first Draco�s mind screamed in disapproval, saying he was his cousin, he was family, and that he was a boy. But soon Draco�s mind shut down as he melted into the other boy�s mouth. Verus� kiss was vicious, and as soon as he got an opportunity, he slipped his tongue into Draco�s mouth, savouring him. Soon the blond boy began to moan.

            Draco had never kissed a boy before. Granted, he had kissed girls, but it had never been with this intensity. The girls never kissed like this, usually preferring to be delicate and soft. But Draco decided he rather enjoyed Verus� violent assault to the girls� tender approach. 

            On this night, Draco had his first sexual encounter. Both boys snogged under the tree for what seemed like ages, until they were rocking forcefully against one another, arousals no longer hidden. Draco had no idea how to pleasure his cousin, but somehow he got by. Verus made his cousin suck him off, and Draco did not object, rather enjoying the taste of cum in his mouth. Then Verus made him come with his hand, and Draco did not complain that he had wanted to climax in his cousin�s mouth, for the one he got the other way was already much more than he has ever experienced.

            They had then spent the rest of the night lying on the grass, looking at the stars and moon, talking softly.

            That was the last time Draco ever saw Verus. On that same year after graduation, Verus joined the Death Eaters, only to be murdered a year later by a fellow companion under the claim of insolence and disobedience.

 

*~*~*

 

            The blond teenager walked down the irregular path, his black cloak billowing in the salty wind, his hood threatening to fall and reveal his pale complexion, paler than usual. His mother walked behind him, head bent down, her rich velvet cloak billowing like his did. Her face was completely obscured by the hood, only the vivid golden locks visible, also whipping backwards and forwards, completely ruining it. A dark man brought up the back of the party, watching out for rocks, and every time Narcissa threatened to slip he extended his arms, resolved to catch her.

            The landscape was morose, dark black clouds covering the obscured sky, rain threatening to fall. The grass was also an ugly greyish green, looking almost dead, the trees to the right having pastel green coloured leaves. The cruel sea washed violently the headland right in front of them, its roaring waves dulling every other sound. And the three dark people coming down the sloping path towards the small little cottage in between the trees did nothing to improve the landscape.

            Draco was thankful that they could not apparate to the house, nor use the floo network or a portkey. This trek to the cottage prepared him, steeling his mind. And he rather preferred this dull scenery to a bright chirpy one, for this revolting cliff by the sea did not mock him as the bright sun would.

            So they kept on walking towards the small hideous cottage, which seemed to be falling to pieces. As soon as they reached it, Draco and Narcissa could not help but sneer at its poverty, at its lack of grandeur and style. Severus only looked around, eyes squinting to see if there was anyone in-between the trees.

            As they entered the place, they could not help but look disapprovingly. The house was much bigger from the inside, a spell clearly cast to improve the living conditions. The furniture poorer to what they were accustomed with, but richer than what most could afford. The spell could not hide, however, the peeling wallpaper in the corners, and the watermarks on the ceiling.  There was a faint smell of putrid wood, but which was almost successfully hidden by a lavender scent.

            �Father?� called out Draco.

            Lucius walked from the corner of the room, which probably lead to a corridor, wand extended out. But as he walked closer, he put it back into his sleeve. He said nothing.

            Lucius looked much older than his forty-three years. His skin looked translucent from the lack of sunlight, his clothes simple muggle button-up shirt and slacks. His face suddenly seemed to have many more wrinkles than Draco remembered, a long scar ran along his hairline, and his hair was unusually cropped short, shorter than Draco�s hair. He couldn�t possibly have kept that beautiful mane of platinum hair under these horrible conditions, and the loss of it startled Draco greatly, for it was not only absence of the physical glossy hair, but a loss of a childhood memory of his father. He always remembered Lucius with that enviable long hair, and now it was gone, surely as the man was gone from their normal lives. Life on the run from aurors did not suit Lucius, and suddenly Draco felt an infinite rage towards the Dark Lord for not being able to provide a better hideout for his father.

But the man�s eyes were not changed. No. Not at all, and Draco was thankful for it. They were still overbearing, still arrogant and demanding. But now they were filled this rage Draco had never seen before.

Lucius walked over to his son and wife and pulled them close in a fierce hug, the three of them reunited after almost a year. And Severus only watched from the door, feeling as if he were invading this private moment as this family reunited. He could not help but feel guilty, for what he would do later that day would cut most, if not all of their contact. Contact they were finally having after a full year.

Then Lucius kissed his son�s hair and released him, still holding onto his wife for a little longer, and then releasing her too. It was amazing how the man was able to maintain his composure. In fact, the whole family looked unfazed, like cold carved statues made of marble, forever doomed to wear the same expression.

And then Lucius approached Severus and hugged him lightly and rapidly. Lucius had asked to see Severus too, unaware that this had been his almost fatal mistake. Severus had to remind himself of the atrocities he had witness Lucius do so he would not wish that the man had not asked him to come along, dooming himself.

They all sat in the crumpled room, and springy couches. Lucius then rang a bell, and a scrawny house elf walked in with a tray, a teapot and teacups precariously balanced on it. He served them and then left.

�Father, how have you been?� enquired Draco.

�Horrible. This place is a disgrace. And that house elf is the most incompetent creature I have ever met.�

�Lucius, what happened to your forehead?� Narcissa stretched and ran a long elegant finger over the scar, until Lucius growled and delicately, as not to hurt her arm, batted it away.

�Aurors. While all of us were escaping from Azkaban, there was a terrible battle.� Lucius unconsciously lifted his hand and ran it along the extent of the blemish, and then his hand followed to brush the cropped hair.

�Yes, we heard. But you are fine, aren�t you? We were so worried!�

�Yes, yes. I got off lightly. There were many of us who were in a worst condition.�

�Oh, Father, it is so good to see you!� Unconsciously Lucius added in his mind �I missed you so much� in that little boyish voice that his son once had had, the sight of him hugging his leg clear in his mind. Lucius sighed.

�Why in Merlin�s name are you wearing muggle clothes, Lucius?� Severus finally decided to enter the conversation, asking the question that was nagging the three visitors.

�Oh, this is by far the worst part of all. I have to dress like this so I do not call any attention. There are only muggle villages near by, and I cannot be seen in robes if a foolish muggle looses his way. The less attention I call, the better.� But the three of them thought that this powerful wizard called much more attention by dressing like a common muggle.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, indignation building up inside Draco as he looked at his father. This couldn�t possibly be happening. The man he knew as his father could not be this man. He had spent a year without seeing him, worried sick with his mother about the man�s health and whereabouts. And now he found this person who seemed like a vulgar copy of his father. But the eyes did not lie. It was Lucius, fierce as ever and undefeated, even under these horrible conditions. In a selfish moment Draco wished he had not seen his father now, so he would always have that untainted image of the all-powerful man.

�Father! There must be something you can do about all this! It is ludicrous that you even consider living here, in this dump. Come back with us! We will fight the aurors and anyone who decides to oppose us! But please do not expose yourself further to this! What is Voldemort doing that he cannot look after you, properly?! After��

�Do not speak his name, Draco!� Severus cut in.

�Well, I say bullshit to that. After years of loyal servitude this is what he gives my father? How is he supposed to be the all-powerful Lord if he cannot even give my father a proper house? This is insane!� Draco�s cheeks were red in anger, his voice having risen to an almost scream.

�Language, Draco. I could be in a much worst situation if it weren�t for the Dark Lord. And you will call him that.� Lucius bore holes into Draco with his eyes, and Draco stared back determinately. It was so unfair.

�You must also remember, Draco, that it not that easy. The war will soon come to an end, and we must face the fact that our side is not doing so well as we hoped. The Dark Lord has other worries,� Severus glanced at Lucius, �And your father will remain safe while he is here. Unless you have not noticed, there are most powerful spells around and inside the house to protect it, placed by the Dark Lord. So this is the best arrangement for him.� The lie stung. Badly.

�But-but�� Draco growled, �This is so unfair! Father shouldn�t be submitted to this!� Draco hit his fist hard against the arm of the sofa, a clear demonstration of his anger and frustration.

�I appreciate your concern, Draco, but Severus is unfortunately right. There is nothing I can do unless I want to go back to Azkaban. And your tantrums will do nothing to change that.�

The blond boy stood up, and growled again, enraged. �You don�t understand! You don�t deserve this, Father!� then he stalked over to the front door and exited the house, banging the door, and letting the cool wind calm down his nerves.

Draco never stopped to think that in fact the adults were correct. There wasn�t much else to do. Voldemort was clearly falling from his power pedestal, and the best way for Lucius to survive this time would be in hiding. Draco could only think that his father deserved better.

Draco did not know that this would be the last chance he ever got to see and talk to his father, the most important person in his life, the centre of his universe.

 

*~*~*

 

            The blond man sat under the big weeping willow, a discarded book on his lap. He looked up at the bright blue sky, wondering, thinking. Summer was rolling on, six months since they had been living here, and still he could not adapt, could not consider this home. For it would be home for as long as the war lasted, and Draco honestly hoped it wasn�t long.

            These fields in Veneto were so empty. Empty of all the life he had known. No more Father. No more Harry Potter. No more Death Eaters, Severus Snape, Dumbledore or even Britain. That was his past now, and it would remain so, for as long as he lived he would be a dead man if he walked into Britain.

            As a turncoat on Voldemort�s cause, never a Death Eater, the Dark Lord�s other followers hunted Draco. Refusal to join Dumbledore�s cause had also brought him more enemies from the Order, and further refusal to join the Ministry earned his the loathing of the aurors.

            From his Father�s death onwards, Draco began to see that he wasn�t strong enough to face the war. He had been distraught, and if the loss of his father caused that depression, he couldn�t possibly join any cause. His father�s death had caused too much grief, and Draco was in no condition to face the fact that neither side were just and fair to him. So he ran. He brought his mother to Veneto, and here they remained in this bright weather and lonely fields.

            Draco was sure that if Lucius had been present, he would not have run. His father would not have approved of it. It wasn�t what a Malfoy was supposed to do, and even in the end Lucius hadn�t done so. But if Lucius had been there to start with, there wouldn�t have been a reason to doubt and run. Lucius had stood tall and proud, and only after his death did Draco realise that he supported himself far too much on his father�s pride instead of his own. With Lucius gone, half of Draco had gone with him.

            Narcissa stood beside Draco, and the man did not even seem to notice. He should have chosen a bride when she had told him to. Now they were lost in the middle of nowhere, exiled, without a prospect of an heir. Narcissa would make sure, though, that there was an heir before she died.

            And suddenly the young blond man who had his long hair splayed around his head, as if an imitation of a halo of light, asked her:

            �Do you think that all of this might have turned out different if it weren�t for all the things that happened?�

 

Notes: Hope you enjoyed this. I certainly did. It was one of the most fun stories to write that I have ever done. I know that my portrayal of the characters is a bit romanticised, but I tried to keep the truth always close by (an example was Draco�s tantrum, or Verus� death). I hope I was able to achieve this. And the fact that I tried to write a story in which many things were hidden in between the lines. Any comments and constructive criticism  appreciated!