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Draco Malfoy (dracowished) wrote in wished,
@ 2009-08-18 21:49:00

Entry tags:

!1997: 08, !incomplete, draco malfoy, lucius malfoy

Who: Lucius and Draco Malfoy
What: Awkward Family Interaction
Where: Malfoy Manor (southwestern corner of the gardens)
When: Today
Warnings: TBA

The moment his father had urged the Death Eaters invading the Manor to stay away from the southwestern corner of the gardens due to tentacula outbreak it became Draco's favourite place on the grounds. He kept a careful watch, of course, and kept to the hedge maze the majority of the time, but no one had ventured into that section of the garden in a week, and he'd only been grabbed by vines once. Generally they grabbed at the edges of his robes, and then retreated. Draco suspected absently that he didn't taste right to them.

He was currently sitting on a garden bench at the far southwestern edge of the mess, a copy of Hélas, Je me suis Transfiguré Les Pieds in the original French open but otherwise untouched in his lap. He didn't come here to read, after all. He didn't even come to think. He came to be away from the bloody lot of them inside, and to be able to let go of the tight Occlumencic control he had to have on his own thoughts every moment he spend inside.

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in_deep
2009-08-19 03:49 am UTC (link)

Lucius was growing tired - had grown quite tired already - of serving as a glorified innkeeper. Quite aside from the ceaseless personal inconveniences that came of playing host to such an ungracious pack of snakes (there were a couple bright spots, of course, but - the effect was, on the whole, disagreeable), it made his skin crawl to think of them sleeping under the same roof as his family. If he was going to be left to rot on the sidelines without so much as his own wand, he thought he might prefer to be allowed to do so as a hermit. But the Dark Lord could always be relied upon for malevolence.

Thankfully, his followers could usually be relied upon just as certainly for their sense of self-preservation, and seemed to be keeping away from this portion of the gardens. It was shameful, to be reduced to digging through brambles on one's own property just for a quiet moment; but if that was what it took, he would make do for now. He had already pushed his way nearly to the tree-line when he saw his son. Looking more or less unstrangled, happily. One day at a time.

"I'm sure I told everyone to stay away from here," he said mildly as he stepped carefully over a dormant-looking pile of vines to stand in front of the bench, looking down at him with the requisite disapproval. "What are you doing? It's dangerous. You ought to go inside." Not that a house full of his friends would be any better, of course, for someone who'd proven himself less than useful to the cause - as he knew from personal experience. It was almost enough to make him glad the boy was leaving him to go back to school.

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dracowished
2009-08-19 04:03 am UTC (link)

There are less snakes outside, Draco thought, expression souring when he snapped out of his reverie and noticed his father standing in front of him. Long fingers quickly snapped the book shut, but he resisted the urge to stand. It was childish sign of respect - and most things in him fought those lately. He felt decades too old for them, rather than years.

"I'm not poisoned or choked, which is more than can be said for me if I stay in sight all the time," he finally answered. There was an edge of bitterness in his voice, as if it were his father's fault that half the Death Eaters in the Manor wanted his head. In a way, it was. And certainly was his fault that their home was overrun now with people who would kill Draco for his failure without hesitation if they thought it would please their Lord.

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in_deep
2009-08-20 01:55 am UTC (link)

Lucius's mouth twitched slightly, as though fighting off a reflex. "You'd do better to go inside," he said, after a long, rather empty stretch of regarding him almost wearily. "They're a bit like wild animals - make yourself look big, and most of them will let you be." And they can smell blood, he didn't add. There was no sense in scaring him more than he already must have been. He doubted if any of them would actually hurt Draco, without direct orders - they hadn't come after him, after all, and he'd had a longer time to work up a set of grudges. If the Dark Lord had had pressing a reason to want either of them dead, he reassured himself, he'd have taken care of it some time ago. As long as he didn't change his mind ...

He glanced down in time to stomp on a sneaking vine, which retreated in a rush. "- You won't have to cope with them much longer, anyhow." He was a little jealous.

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dracowished
2009-08-22 03:59 am UTC (link)

Only for the rest of my life. Draco thought, and in the same moment he knew that wasn't true. Something would happen, one way or the other. Something had happened, he thought, or it felt as if something had happened, but it was that same dizzyingly doubled feeling he'd had since that night he spoke first with Dumbledore, and he knew that no matter how hard he tried he wouldn't be able to grasp it.

Instead he stared at his father for a few moments and then stood, his heel coming down sudden and hard on the stalk of one vine that was sliding toward his father's feet. "No," he said after it had brokenly retreated, "No, I suppose I won't."

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in_deep
2009-08-23 03:20 am UTC (link)

Lucius gave a nearly indiscernible start, glancing sharply down at the subdued vine. Having deadly weeds lurking about wasn't doing anything for his nerves. "That's the spirit," he muttered, willing to accept any small victory, any token show of optimism. Seeing the boy moping in solitude was a little - well, a little close to home. It rankled.

"- Come have a walk, at least, if you'd rather not go in. You'll have plenty of time to be bookish at school." Part of him wished Draco would just pick up a broom or something, really. He would have liked to have been able to pretend he still felt carefree on occasion. It might have eased the guilt a little, if not the anxiety.

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dracowished
2009-08-23 04:33 pm UTC (link)

Draco didn't like to think he was moping. He was ... considering things. Sullenly, and by himself. The request - thinly veiled command, really - to take a walk with his father instead took a moment to process. He could accept and walk with him, letting the awkwardness and uneasiness of being around him now continue. Or he could go inside, where he was bound to face worse.

His lips drew into a tight, stern line and it was obvious he was considering it. Then he gave a tight sort of shrug and tucked the small book away into the pocket of his robe. "Fine," he answered, and if he sounded like a petulant teen - well, that was fairly close to it, really.

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in_deep
2009-08-23 11:08 pm UTC (link)

"Thank you," Lucius replied, with just a touch of sarcasm. It was always so pleasant to discover that one was considered a bit of a chore. It wasn't like he was asking him to clean his room. Of course he recognized the difficulty - he wasn't sure what he was going to talk about, and considering Draco's reticence, he imagined he was similarly at a loss. All the same, he wasn't going to have him sit there brooding over a book.

When in doubt, lecturing was a steady fallback. "I realize things are hardly ideal," he said (and saw no need to elaborate, having already said his piece about the elephant in the room), "But I'm sure you know it's especially important to keep your grades up, this year." He started off not towards the house but along the path skirting the blighted section of the garden, expecting he would follow.

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dracowished
2009-08-27 03:03 am UTC (link)

Draco would have pointed out that if he could keep his grades up last term - with the Dark Lord breathing down his neck via the more terrifying Lestrange, his own sodding aunt, about that cabinet, then he should be able to manage this year.

But oddly enough, he wasn't feeling that much like a petulant child. So he nodded, and cast a glance toward the house. In a few weeks, at least he'd be away.

"I never thought I'd be looking forward to going back to Hogwarts," He said quietly, his own distaste for the situation evident in his tone. It was an oddly open moment, and he shook it off quickly and began to walk again.

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in_deep
2009-08-28 01:13 am UTC (link)

And I never thought I'd be so eager to see the back of you, he thought, in near complete agreement. It was desperately unfair. For a year he'd done little more than think of coming home to his family, and now he was ready to scatter it again. All for the best, of course - he glanced sidelong at him before turning his eyes back towards the trees past the gardens. There was no sense in confirming for him how very right he was, on the (rather slim) chance he didn't know already.

"No," he said lightly. "Things do change. Still, it's your last summer: better to make the most of it while you've still got it. It'll go by faster than you think." He supposed he wouldn't go with him to the train, this year.

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dracowished
2009-08-28 01:17 am UTC (link)

Make the most of it? Draco was tempted to ask how in the sodding hell he was supposed to do that with Death Eaters crawling through his own home wanting to kill him for being a failure, but he bit it back and looked off in the same direction his father was.

He'd been raised to appreciate all of this - to know that this home, that his name, that their fortunes would be his. All the Malfoy honour and power. Everything that came with the length they could trace their name back. But there was a deep sort of knowing that told him that that wasn't how it happened - and that he had a chance now to be sure that it did.

As if he had any idea how he could.

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in_deep
2009-08-29 01:02 am UTC (link)

Lucius had long enjoyed spending time in the gardens, largely because they occasionally gave him a shot of much-needed optimism. They were orderly (most of the time), they were his, and he suspected they were home to hedges older than he was. But after a few more minutes of silently trudging along the boxwood borders, he decided he had drawn about as much consolation from it all as he was going to get, and he came to a slow stop where the path split off towards the back of the house. Nearly time to go inside.

How strange, that he could still draw strength from his property, and from his son, when they were both so close to being taken away from him. "How's your broomstick holding up, then?"

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