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Author: emmamoonpotter Story: The Reason Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 6 Words: 19,688
A/N: I wish to thank my usual supporters Muggle Witch and xtrememama2001, you two are my biggest cheerleaders. Also Ninkenate, my awesome, wonderful and spectacular beta. You rock girl! Please check out my LJ http://www.livejournal.com/users/emmamoonpotter1. It has news about my story, plot bunnies and updates about hpcommonroom.com, a Harry Potter fan fic site that I run with Muggle Witch. Enjoy! Also, I want to let you all know this is a very dark chapter. Be warned. I'm tired of being what you want me to be I've become so numb I can't feel you there Can't you see that you're smothering me Numb by Linkin Park Rage. That was the only word to describe the waves of emotion rolling through him. A copy of the Daily Prophet lay discarded on the floor at his feet with its headline blaring: Death Eater Escapes From Azkaban! Lucius Malfoy At Large! So, his father was free. The fool would ruin everything now. Draco was sure of that. All of his carefully laid plans were now useless. His father glared from the front page. His once groomed locks lay in a matted tangle around his shoulders. His aristocratic features were now sunken and his eyes were bright with madness. Draco had no doubt that his father would make his way toward Hogwarts. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. After all, the source of his temptation was here. He would be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. ‘No,’ thought Draco grimly. ‘He won’t be able to stay away.’ With a sneer, Draco ground his heel on the picture of his father. The Slytherin common room was empty. Draco stalked in front of the empty fireplace when all of a sudden it sprang to life. “Draco!” Draco turned and looked at the face staring at him from the green flames. “Hello, Father,” he drawled. “I’ve been expecting you to contact me.” “Are you alone?” Lucius hissed as he quickly scanned the room beyond the fireplace. His appearance looked like his photo from the Daily Prophet. The elder Malfoy's hair hung limp and tangled about his shoulders. His sunken face stared eerily through the green flames right at Draco. “Quite alone,” Draco replied. He sprawled on a black leather couch directly in front of the fireplace. “Everyone is in bed sleeping, which is where I should be.” “I have taken great pains to be able to speak to you. I don’t have long as it is,” Lucius gritted out between clenched teeth, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Where are you?” Draco asked with a bored air. He leaned back into the plush couch and crossed his legs nonchalantly knowing this would further infuriate his father. “I’m just outside of Leeds in a small wizard town. I found this hovel; lucky for me the occupants are out.” “And of course, you are coming here. Aren’t you?” Draco questioned. “How are you going to make it this far, you have no wand or broomstick. Quite a dismal situation isn’t it?” Lucius’ face contorted into a snarl. “Insolent whelp! Don’t forget whom you are talking to. I am your father.” “Something that you remember only when it’s convenient,” Draco snapped. He leaned down and picked up the crumpled and torn Daily Prophet. “Not your best picture, Father. You seem to have lost that certain something. You look quite... what’s the word I’m looking for... pathetic.” Draco got up from the couch and approached the fireplace. He squatted down and looked his father right in the eye. “Stay away from here. You will only get yourself caught. In addition, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is very upset with you as it is. Your failure at the Department of Mysteries by losing the prophecy has cost him dearly.” With a howl of fury, Lucius’ head lunged toward Draco. “I have always served the Dark Lord faithfully! I am his loyal servant!” “You were,” Draco retorted. “But no more.” With a flourish, Draco pulled back the sleeve of his crisp white shirt. The Dark Mark was burned into the flesh of his left forearm. “Now I am his most loyal servant. I am in a position to attain that which he desires most of all. Harry Potter.” Lucius stared at the mark on his son’s arm. Disbelief was etched across his sunken face. “You?” Lucius let out a derisive snort. “You can’t even beat Potter at Quidditch. How are you going to do what the Dark Lord has been unable to do for years? You have never lived up to the Malfoy name. You are a disgrace to our Pureblood heritage.” Draco could feel himself falling back to a point in time of his childhood. Small and trembling in front of his father’s desk in the large study at Malfoy Manor, with his cold grey gaze piercing through him. He had broken a vase that had been in the Malfoy family for generations. Tears had welled in his eyes as he stood in silence waiting for his father to speak. He had been five years old. “Draco.” Draco lifted his teary eyes from the silver and green carpet and met his father’s direct look. “Y-yes father,” Draco’s small voice trembled. Lucius felt Draco’s fear, and he reveled in it. Total control over his family was a must. He ruled over them with an iron fist, and he accepted only complete obedience from his wife and son. “The Ming.” That was all. Just those two softly uttered words had Draco’s body quaking in fear. His father wasn’t the type to give any leniency. He would be punished harshly for his clumsiness. “F-father, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been riding my broomstick in the east wing...” Terror clogged Draco’s throat. ‘Please, please, please,’ he silently repeated the mantra in his head. ‘Please let this time be different.’ Lucius stood from his chair and walked around his desk. Draco’s eyes dropped back to the carpet. He could sense his father approaching and saw the overwhelming shadow standing in front of him. “You will look at me not the floor, Draco.” Lucius’ voice was whisper soft, but hard as steel. Draco jerked his eyes to stare at a point to the left of his father’s head. The quaking of his limbs was increasing every moment he waited for his punishment. Lucius smiled slightly and lifted his arm. Draco instantly recoiled expecting a blow to land, however Lucius cupped Draco’s chin and forced his son to look him in the eyes. At that moment, Draco knew there would be no respite for him. “I am very disappointed with you. I expected better from you, Draco. You are a Malfoy, not some Mudblood brat. The Malfoy name means everything; our bloodline is pure.” Lucius’ grip tightened painfully on Draco’s face. Tears streamed freely down Draco’s face. Lucius smiled in triumph over his son’s apparent anguish. It made him feel powerful. “You are weak. Pathetic. Where is your pride? You’re sniveling like a child.” Lucius’ sneering voice lashed out at Draco. Then, to Draco’s alarm, he felt a warm trickle of fluid down his leg. The overpowering scent of urine filled his nostrils. With a growl, Lucius flung Draco roughly to the floor. Terror had the young boy’s eyes rolling frantically in his head. Punishment would be harsh and swift. There would be much pain and suffering now. Disgust filled Lucius as he stared down at his son crawling like a beast away from him. Draco's sobs choking out from him. Lucius pulled his wand from a holster at his side and stared at the pathetic form that had now curled up in a ball at the foot of a fireplace across the room. “Crucio!” Draco rubbed his hands over his face. He could feel the scratchy stubble on his jaw. It reminded him that he was older now, no longer the frightened child who had cowered before his father. Now it would be his father who felt fear of him. Lucius watched Draco’s fight for control with a smug sense of satisfaction. The boy would obey him. He always did. The boy needed direction, a strong guiding hand. Draco had to be reminded of loyalty and duty to his father. If he had to be harsh with him on occasion, it was only because he had to live up to the Malfoy name. Nothing else was important. Failure was never an option. “Draco, you will listen to me. Harry Potter has survived numerous times against the Dark Lord. He will not be easy to defeat. Once I arrive there, we can formulate a plan...” Draco’s eyes flashed dangerously at his father’s image in the flames. “You will not come here!” He barked. “We both know that it isn’t Potter you’re interested in. I will only say this once more. Stay away from here!” “You will not tell me what to do.” Lucius’ voice was low and menacing. “I see you have forgotten the punishment for disobedience. I will be sure to rectify that once I arrive.” Draco rose from the floor and stalked in front of the fireplace. “Your presence here will only cause trouble. Don’t you think the Aurors will be watching me? My mission is difficult enough without your interference.” “I am coming Draco. You cannot stop me. I will send you word once I get closer to Hogwarts. Be on your guard at all times. And for once, try to live up to the family name.” With that, Lucius’ head disappeared in a blast of green flame. Fuming, Draco flung himself back on the couch and beat the cushions with his fists. “Fool!” Draco snarled. He lifted his hands and ran them through his hair, causing it to stick up in angles from his head. Lucius was unstable. Everything would be ruined. Ruined! His anger quickly spiraled to despair. If he failed... a shiver of unease coursed down his spine. Failure was not an option. Draco steeled himself for the task ahead. He would deliver Potter to the Dark Lord and earn his rightful spot in his most trusted circle. He would also have the one thing he desired more than anything. Draco stood and grabbed the small pot of Floo powder from the mantle. There was one person who could help him deal with the threat Lucius posed. One person who the Dark Lord trusted. He quickly tossed the powder into the flames. “Severus Snape.”
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