Drarry One Shots and Fluff

Famous Mister Potter

Post!war

The green fire flared up with a roar, a figure gracefully stepping out of it. He brushed the soot off his shoulders, buttoning up his blazer and checking that his hair was neat before he strode out of the room.

His slightly heeled shoes clicked along the floor, echoing along the dark hallway, the only lights shone from dim, blue lamps attached in intervals along the wall, surrounded by glowering portraits that stared him down, some muttering harsh words in his direction.

But he held his head high.

He passed the last portrait, giving it a side glance as they stayed silent. He knew all three of them could talk but they just didn't want to. He didn't want them to either.

Knocking on a solid wood door, he waited for the cold reply for him to enter before he twisted the doorknob and pushed against it with his shoulder.

The wood swung open as smoothly as it did the day he first opened it, silently and with dread.

He stepped into the room and the door closed silently behind him but he did not more any further, his hands clasped behind his back and a patient look on his face.

"Famous Mister Potter," a voice snarled from behind the desk.

He blinked, "are you always going to greet me like this, father?"

The man sat behind the desk tilted his head to the side. He didn't say anything for a moment, examining the man stood in front of the door, looking him up and down and picking up on the slight dishevelled look on his son, "it's the price you must pay." He replied eventually.

The man stepped forward, revealing his platinum blonde hair to the small amount of sunlight streaming through the closed curtains, "for marrying Harry?" He replied with a raised eyebrow.

"No, Draco," Draco's father linked his fingers together and leaned forward on the desk, "it's the price for taking his name, please sit." He gestured forward, towards a black wooden chair that definitely didn't look comfortable.

Draco took a step forward and sat down, crossing his legs and staring forward, "you still disapprove?"

"It was," Lucius waved a hand in the air, "a surprise, that's all. How was I supposed to know that after my," he paused, "absence, you were associating yourself with the enemy. Placing the Malfoy fortune into waif homes and random households as if it had no value."

"That money saved countless lives and that 'waif home' you are talking about kept children that were orphaned after the war. Magic families were wiped off the map. The Dark Lord is dead now, Father, there are no enemies and allies, only humans," Draco spoke with dignity and poise, "we must do all it takes to save them."

Lucius scoffed, his shoulders tense, "some people are not worth saving. Their bloodline is weak."

"And it is not the bloodline that decided who the person is. Look at you and me for example. We come from a great line of Malfoy's, burning a trail of riches, prejudice, privilege and incest," he ignored his father's famous scowl, "and yet we are so different. One of us sits here a coward, afraid of what the other will do to him. One of us is hiding behind his wealth and his surname."

"I am certain," Lucius' calm manner brushed off Draco's hurtful words, "that your cowardice originates from that half-blood you dared to get married to."

Draco let out a dry laugh, "oh no, father, you seem to have got the wrong end of the stick," he relished in speaking to him like a lost puppy, using a muggle idiom that was completely lost on him, "it is not me that is the coward. Now, you called me here for a reason, I'm sure there is business to discuss."

Lucius stared at his son for a moment, perhaps deciding which shrub Draco would look best transfigured into but eventually spoke, "yes, business. I see that you have restricted my access to the Malfoy vaults and deeds."

"Standard ministry protocol," Draco said defiantly, "since you are a convicted criminal and I am the husband of the man who was the main reason you were placed in Azkaban, it just wouldn't be right for you to have access to my money now, would it?" His tone was harsh and demeaning and he was loving every second of it.

"That is my money and you know it!" Lucius' composure was lost in an instant as he slammed his hands on the table and rose, glowering down his nose at his son, who was busy checking for dirt behind his nails, "I demand that you return it to me at once or-"

"Or what?" Draco was defiant as he met his father's eyes, "you'll punish me? Your wand has been snapped in two and you have the trace on you. Again. I also have a clever little device," he held up a small silver box that he had been keeping in his pocket, "muggle thing but with a little tampering, it's perfect. As soon as you get anywhere close to injuring me, I press this little button in here and a very mad man will crash through the gates in less than a minute to apprehend you for injuring his husband." How he loved it when that word came out of his mouth. "Husband," he spoke again, a soft smile flitting across his face, "if only you could see your face now. It really is a picture."

Lucius snarled, "I'll have to break it then," he reached out to snatch the box but Draco was too quick.

"Ah, ah, ah," he spoke condescendingly, "this thing is giving off a small signal every three seconds. As soon as the signal stops, Harry will come running in. The signal stops, of course, if the device is destroyed or if it is at least three feet away from me. So you can't take it from me either." He knew he had his father at an impasse, "the only choice you have now is to listen to me."

Lucius did not reply and Draco took that as a sign to speak.

"You will leave me and my family alone." Draco growled, leaning forward so that he was almost nose to nose with Lucius, "you will not attempt to get into the Malfoy vault again. In fact, you will renounce the name of Malfoy. You will have no name to speak of. You will no longer be my father. You will have no affiliation with me. If I even see you or any of your friends near me, Harry or anyone else I may be affiliated with." He loved seeing how helpless the man was in front of him, never once breaking his stream, even when Lucius would try to interrupt. He would just raise the device and his eyebrow and carry on talking, "and any children that Harry and I may have will never know you and you will never know them. You must understand that I never want to see you again, I never want to speak to you. I never want to remember the man that I refuse to call my father and I will never." He punctuated each word, "never. Be your son. Do you understand?"

Lucius' chin was high but Draco had perfected the glare that his father used to send him every time he made a mistake, "I said, do you understand?"

Eventually, Lucius nodded.

"Good," Draco stood up and pocketed the device, "I must say, I do not wish you to die," Draco said honestly, "I wish you to understand how it feels to be lonely, like the one person that should love you unconditionally hates you with their entire being. That's what I want you to experience because that is what you put me through. Good day, Lucius, I sincerely hope I never see you again."

With those words and a much lighter heart, Draco swept out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Immediately, he turned to the last painting, feeling brave enough to finally look at him. The family were staring in shock at him, mouths agape and shoulders tense. The man of the house was glowering down, his eyes speaking many words that were not decent to come out of a lord's mouth. The lady of the house was only surprised for the show, pretending to be in solidarity with her husband for fear of his wrath. But behind her eyes, she was beaming. Meanwhile, the last person on the painting was grinning from ear to ear, brave enough to whisper towards Draco, "thank you."

Draco looked at his younger self, one full of courage and innocence, "you're welcome," he replied.

With those words, he held his head high and stalked out of Malfoy Manor, not looking back once.