Draco’s nerves shot into gear the moment he scribbled his agreement to meet his father at the library. His father’s offer of the coffee shop presented a location among people, but Draco feared meeting Lucius publicly just then. This version of his father hadn’t seen Draco off to Hogwarts nor did he see what befell his only son in his later years. Draco didn’t know if it would come up or if perhaps Narcissa mentioned it already, but, either way, Draco wasn’t risking seeing Lucius in front of other people.
He loved his father dearly, but he lost respect for him those later years. It was a bitter potion for Draco to swallow, but he felt betrayed and hurt by Lucius’ inability to save their family. Draco was coming to terms with personal responsibility, but he still couldn’t help the anger he felt toward those he trusted.
He didn’t know what to expect which was the worst thing of all. Lucius knew his eight year old son, not his eighteen year old one. What would they discuss? Was it a lie to keep the future from him? Draco didn’t know, but he thought it best to bring lunch for the two of them to enjoy away from prying eyes. He even dressed up for the occasion in neatly pressed black trousers, a crisp button-down shirt, and a forest green robe.
He entered Bookends with time to spare, but didn't make the trip to the top floor right away. Not too long ago, he worked in that shop and he found he still had attachment, especially to the displays he charmed to look just like he desired. When he realized he couldn't put it off any longer, he made his way to the library.
He pushed the door open right on time. "Hullo?" He called softly. "I'm here, Father." He stepped into the room and was surprised to see his father standing next to spilled tea. Right, not elves. He shifted the bag of containers filled with food to one hand and used his free one to wave his wand over the mess. "How are you?" He forced himself to look Lucius full in the face. The man before him was a far cry from the soul Draco remembered from the end of the war. He swallowed hard. The part that remained Lucius' little boy wanted nothing more than to run to his father and bury his face against him, but Draco knew even as a little boy that wasn't possible.