Draco's lips parted as he looked between his parents. His expression was not in any way slack-jawed, but rather it signified the need for swift Slytherin reconsideration of all the factors he had already calculated.
Dumbledore had somehow managed to... to what, exactly? Perhaps it was not his doing. He was an old fool anyway, and had managed to become crippled as well, likely meddling where he was unwelcome. There was no urgency in his parent's welcome. They were not smuggling him quickly off the grounds of the school. Perhaps the old man's awareness was impaired by his... death.
Grindlewald, though. Grindlewald would help them. If the Dark Lord could not be relied on to keep his father out of prison he had fallen indeed. But Grindlewald! Draco saw the spark in his father's eye. Reverence? Hope that a battle standard would been raised again, even as the Dark Lord let it fall in his madness?
He closed his lips and smiled back at them - at his mother's love, at his father's calm. "We are together. Even with whatever strange magic is here at school, we are together and we are free." He looked at his father. Whenever his father had been with them everything had worked for the best for them. Draco had faith in his family.
"There is nothing more important," Lucius agreed with his son, "And together, we shall confront these matters." That his imprisonment had not torn his family apart, that if anything it had welded them more firmly together, meant more to Lucius than he could easily express. If Draco had chosen to be angry, he would have understood. Lucius refused to accept the failure at the Ministry as his own fault, given that it was actually the Potter brat's, but, this in no way changed the unasked-for responsibility that had fallen to Draco before he'd even graduated from Hogwarts. His son had deserved at least that before taking up his part in the war. Lucius would have preferred the war to be over before his only heir became personally involved. That hope had been shattered, and Lucius felt it bitterly. But, as his gaze met his son's, he could not ignore the pride that welled up alongside his sadness. He had left behind a child when they took him to Azkaban, and, now, he found him a warrior.
He knew better than to say this in Narcissa's presence, however. He was sure that she too knew this, but, she was a mother. No matter how many years passed, she would always see her beloved little boy in the remarkable man that he was swiftly shaping into, and now was not the time to remind her of her fears. It was, however, as good a time as any to let Draco know about the greatest insult given their family by the unusual magic affecting Hogwarts. "You should know that this Hogwarts has become a sad and twisted remnant of what it once was. It is not our Hogwarts, but a lie- here they will tell you that you are a Gryffindor, Draco." That Lucius did not for one instant believe this absurd bit of rubbish to have any actual bearing upon their family was evident, his words soaked in sardonic spirits. "It is of no matter- our family stays in Slytherin, regardless of such insults thrown our way. It is an insult I intend to correct." Not that he knew how, when the Sorting Hat was supposedly in charge. How could he strike fear into a Hat? By threatening to pluck out its stitches? Absurdity. Still, if given the opportunity, he would try. . .
Narcissa frowned. The very idea was distasteful, and she disliked thinking of it. Yet Lucius' instincts (as always!) were sound. Of course Draco should know this thing sooner than anyone else could tell him. No one should be given the opportunity to use the knowledge against him; he must be prepared.
"It is a lie," she affirmed stiffly. "Not only do they call you a Gryffindor, but that mudblood Granger girl is called a Ravenclaw, and the Potter boy -- a Slytherin! James Potter's son, Dumbledore's pet, a Slytherin." Unthinkable. "Whatever may be said, we know our own. Like tends toward like. You will live in our suite, in Slytherin."
Why wouldn't a teenage boy want to live in a sadly cramped suite with his parents?
If Draco had not already been so pale he would have blanched. "Gryffindor?!" The cry was torn from his throat before he could stop the horrified reaction. Guiltily he recovered and hissed it again in a much tighter and lower voice. "Gryffindor?" Had it not been his parents, he would have recoiled. He felt... dirty.
But of course his father would correct it. He hated to be weak though, to be tainted with so much as a name. His mother said it was a lie. "Of course it is a lie. Thank you father. Of course I will stay with you in your suite while we are here."
He was immediately suspicious, though. "Have they done this so that Dumbledore's precious Gryffindors can watch me all day and all night while Harry bloody Potter spies on our friends?" Again he looked guilty. "I'm sorry, mother. I didn't mean to swear. I was just upset. I don't understand how, even after any amount of time, things could have come to this."
He patted her hand reassuringly and looked into his father's eyes. His father was back. Everything would be all right now. There would be some indignities, but after this outburst he would bear them like a Malfoy - as if they were not happening. And they would right things. "Grindlewald will help us."
Lucius had expected no other reaction from Draco after such news, but was pleased to see he handled it well given the circumstance. An outburst was entirely justified. It could not, would not go without retribution. "The school is in such a fallen state that your fraudulent placement in Gryffindor means nothing, aside from the insult to our family it represents. An insult which shall not be ignored. There is no sense of order here anymore, magical creatures run amok, and half the 'students' claim to be from another planet. There are no real classes, and, the 'professors' are all Muggles or worse." But there were no dementors, at least, and, no Dark Lord either. "Dumbledore is here, but, he is no longer headmaster. There may not even be one." Lucius was still unclear on this point- he'd questioned some house-elves about it, who continued to insist that the headmaster was a toy even after trying a less verbal method of inquiry.
"We will manage with or without his help," Lucius stated, a firm fact- now that his family was reunited, it was his duty to do whatever it entailed to restore both them and Hogwarts to their proper conditions, his family's duty to set an example to reshape the school. Not as it was, but, as it was meant to be.
Narcissa smiled at both her men. In truth, Draco's outburst did not displease her all too much. While she certainly had not raised him to use crude language in the presence of ladies, he was not speaking as a public figure, but en famille, and no harm was done. Besides which, she herself felt much the same as Draco in regard to this Gryffindor business (and his suspicions had moved immediately in much the same direction as her own. Have they done this so that Dumbledore's precious Gryffindors can watch me all day and all night ... Oh, clever boy; oh, poor dear imperiled boy.)
And Lucius was quite wholly himself, now, she could hear it in his firm declaration to their son. Azkaban had not broken him, however Dumbledore (or the Dark Lord) might have liked to see it! Perhaps Draco's presence would be a help to him in shaking the last lingering effects of that horrid place.
She, too, felt whole. Their son made them a family complete.
She looked to Lucius. "Draco needs rest," she said. She had the authority to say it, where their child was concerned; but she said it softly. "Shall we take him -- to our rooms?" She had been about to say, take him home. But that brought Malfoy Manor to mind, a place it would be unwise to reinhabit for the foreseeable future. "I know the two of you will have a good deal to discuss," Narcissa automatically knowing herself excused and excluded from such discussion -- as was her choice; Bellatrix had taken the Dark Mark, Narcissa had not. "And that will be better done with a tranquil mind and a settled stomach."
Draco was happy to fall in with his mother's wishes. It was not simply that he had woken up covered with butter but that he had just killed Dumbledore - indirectly at least - and had just run from the castle, pursued and loathed, propelled by Snape's hand. Gryffindor. It was an abomination. But surely he would be allowed to stay with his family. His father would work to fix everything. He did need rest, and he would be happy to eat, so h smiled gratefully at his mother.
"Let us go." He checked his precious wand. Just to make sure that with all the ridiculous changes that he still had it safe in his robes.
He smiled at his father, too as he turned, glad that they were all a solid Malfoy unit once again. "Of course, I will talk with you soon."
Though his mother was perfect, he did not like to burden her with the details of the... darker... aspects of their associations. She was there always, to feed them with love, comfort and strength. Even pride. The familiar familial pattern of relations continued, though all the world had seemingly been turned upside down. They were Malfoys.
Dumbledore had somehow managed to... to what, exactly? Perhaps it was not his doing. He was an old fool anyway, and had managed to become crippled as well, likely meddling where he was unwelcome. There was no urgency in his parent's welcome. They were not smuggling him quickly off the grounds of the school. Perhaps the old man's awareness was impaired by his... death.
Grindlewald, though. Grindlewald would help them. If the Dark Lord could not be relied on to keep his father out of prison he had fallen indeed. But Grindlewald! Draco saw the spark in his father's eye. Reverence? Hope that a battle standard would been raised again, even as the Dark Lord let it fall in his madness?
He closed his lips and smiled back at them - at his mother's love, at his father's calm. "We are together. Even with whatever strange magic is here at school, we are together and we are free." He looked at his father. Whenever his father had been with them everything had worked for the best for them. Draco had faith in his family.
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He knew better than to say this in Narcissa's presence, however. He was sure that she too knew this, but, she was a mother. No matter how many years passed, she would always see her beloved little boy in the remarkable man that he was swiftly shaping into, and now was not the time to remind her of her fears. It was, however, as good a time as any to let Draco know about the greatest insult given their family by the unusual magic affecting Hogwarts. "You should know that this Hogwarts has become a sad and twisted remnant of what it once was. It is not our Hogwarts, but a lie- here they will tell you that you are a Gryffindor, Draco." That Lucius did not for one instant believe this absurd bit of rubbish to have any actual bearing upon their family was evident, his words soaked in sardonic spirits. "It is of no matter- our family stays in Slytherin, regardless of such insults thrown our way. It is an insult I intend to correct." Not that he knew how, when the Sorting Hat was supposedly in charge. How could he strike fear into a Hat? By threatening to pluck out its stitches? Absurdity. Still, if given the opportunity, he would try. . .
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"It is a lie," she affirmed stiffly. "Not only do they call you a Gryffindor, but that mudblood Granger girl is called a Ravenclaw, and the Potter boy -- a Slytherin! James Potter's son, Dumbledore's pet, a Slytherin." Unthinkable. "Whatever may be said, we know our own. Like tends toward like. You will live in our suite, in Slytherin."
Why wouldn't a teenage boy want to live in a sadly cramped suite with his parents?
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But of course his father would correct it. He hated to be weak though, to be tainted with so much as a name. His mother said it was a lie. "Of course it is a lie. Thank you father. Of course I will stay with you in your suite while we are here."
He was immediately suspicious, though. "Have they done this so that Dumbledore's precious Gryffindors can watch me all day and all night while Harry bloody Potter spies on our friends?" Again he looked guilty. "I'm sorry, mother. I didn't mean to swear. I was just upset. I don't understand how, even after any amount of time, things could have come to this."
He patted her hand reassuringly and looked into his father's eyes. His father was back. Everything would be all right now. There would be some indignities, but after this outburst he would bear them like a Malfoy - as if they were not happening. And they would right things. "Grindlewald will help us."
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"We will manage with or without his help," Lucius stated, a firm fact- now that his family was reunited, it was his duty to do whatever it entailed to restore both them and Hogwarts to their proper conditions, his family's duty to set an example to reshape the school. Not as it was, but, as it was meant to be.
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And Lucius was quite wholly himself, now, she could hear it in his firm declaration to their son. Azkaban had not broken him, however Dumbledore (or the Dark Lord) might have liked to see it! Perhaps Draco's presence would be a help to him in shaking the last lingering effects of that horrid place.
She, too, felt whole. Their son made them a family complete.
She looked to Lucius. "Draco needs rest," she said. She had the authority to say it, where their child was concerned; but she said it softly. "Shall we take him -- to our rooms?" She had been about to say, take him home. But that brought Malfoy Manor to mind, a place it would be unwise to reinhabit for the foreseeable future. "I know the two of you will have a good deal to discuss," Narcissa automatically knowing herself excused and excluded from such discussion -- as was her choice; Bellatrix had taken the Dark Mark, Narcissa had not. "And that will be better done with a tranquil mind and a settled stomach."
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"Let us go." He checked his precious wand. Just to make sure that with all the ridiculous changes that he still had it safe in his robes.
He smiled at his father, too as he turned, glad that they were all a solid Malfoy unit once again. "Of course, I will talk with you soon."
Though his mother was perfect, he did not like to burden her with the details of the... darker... aspects of their associations. She was there always, to feed them with love, comfort and strength. Even pride. The familiar familial pattern of relations continued, though all the world had seemingly been turned upside down. They were Malfoys.
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