RP: I will talk no more of books or the long war

[pb_draco]

Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy
Location: Wizarding cemetery
Date: 8 March 2000
Status/Warning: Private/language
Summary: The Malfoy men need to have a talk. In person.
Completion: Complete

Comments

[pb_lucius]

He was still somewhat shaken from his nightmare, especially since he knew that the situation he had dreamt mirrored his Death Eater initiation task. He had killed then as well. Once the other Death Eaters had brutalised their victim -- after Lucius had impassively watched them do it -- he had cast the Killing Curse, for the first time. After a couple of coffees laced with brandy, Lucius felt slightly better, but he was still aware of the lingering feeling that his treachery went deeper than blood. Not that it made much difference, really, now he was resolved to concentrate more on his son than anything else.

As Lucius approached the cemetery, he noticed a blond-haired figure in dark clothes. He made his way towards the gravestone, and the breeze carried his son's voice to him, though he could not make out more than a few words here and there. Crabbe ... Hermione Granger ... even his own name. Lucius hung back until Draco had finished speaking, approaching him when he saw his son lighting a cigarette.

"Draco?"

[pb_draco]

Draco leaned against the headstone, ankles crossed and arms folded over his chest. He knew it was a defensive posture, but he didn't care too much right then. He was defensive around Lucius these days. "Sir," he said with a nod, then tipped his head towards the second coffee on top of the headstone. "Ward off the chill, if you like."

He blew a smoke ring, watching it float away across the graves, too many of them from only two years past. "Surprised you came," he said, not looking in Lucius' direction. He did his best to keep anger out of his voice, knowing that Lucius had made a severe concession to write him in the first place. "What did you want to talk about?"

[pb_lucius]

"Thank you, Draco," Lucius replied, taking the coffee from the gravestone. "Very thoughtful of you." He tried to ignore his son's posture; it was hardly surprising that Draco was not exactly overjoyed to see him.

"Yes, well, I said I would," he said, wishing for a moment that he smoked so he would have something else to occupy himself with. Lucius took a drink of his coffee and wrapped both hands around the paper cup. It was cold enough outside that he would benefit from the warmth of it anyway.

He pondered Drco's question for a moment. What did he want to talk about, and where in the name of Merlin did he start with it all? Everything would not be a suitable answer. Lucius tried to recall what he had said in his letters.

"You and me," he eventually said. "Your young lady, and how much she means to you. Why she is so special. I told you I wanted to understand." At least now Lucius had a vague idea of what she came from. Not that he was particularly impressed by it, but Draco did not have to know that.

[pb_draco]

Draco tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and pulled his cloak a little tighter around him, leaving just enough space for his hands. He resisted the temptation to pull his hood up. He wouldn't hide behind it today.

Cigarette in one hand, coffee in the other, and he knew that he couldn't get to his wand quickly. Even more, he knew that Lucius would know that. As tense and shouty as their 'conversations' had been over the past few months, he wanted it obvious that he would not be going for his wand. He wanted Lucius to understand.

"She's amazing," he told the air, looking at the horizon as if Lucius wasn't standing there. He couldn't yet meet his father's eyes, though he spoke with nothing but raw honesty in his voice. "She's perfect. If she'd been born a pure-blood, I'd have been agitating to get you and Mum to make negotiations with her family years ago. She's everything I've ever looked for, and everything I am terrified to want." He fidgeted with his cigarette, tapping ash into the grass by his boot. "What