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After the war the Malfoy family was lost

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After the war the Malfoy family was lost. Lucius was a shell of a man, Narcissa tried to keep together, and Draco had suddenly become a man.

He was forced to grow up faster than necessary, to take care of his family once more. Except this time, it was solely because he loved them, to care of them out of the goodness of his heart, not because he didn't have a choice.

He talked to his father more, man to man. Conversations that would leave Lucius wondering what had happened to his son, a boy who was pompous and a bully, much like him. Though they weren't always on the same page, Lucius was more at ease knowing that Draco was seeming to get along through life with evil and death breathing down his neck.

He took his mother out, on walks, to dinners, events of high class, anything to see the curl of her pink painted lips. Draco loved his mother more than life itself, she was kind, and nurturing to him. Narcissa was a constant light and reminder of what choices were the right ones, and for that he was ever grateful. This was why he tried so hard to make her happy, to make her feel safe.

Draco, a man now 23, went back to Hogwarts to finish his last year. Taking duties of Head Boy and excelling in his courses ever so brilliantly. This kept him preoccupied, took his wandering and damaged mind off his internal problems. After the war, he spent days upon days in the manor, crying to sleep and screaming awake from terrors and nightmares his mind concocted. The nightmares were just a start, post-war put Draco in a dark place, and up until the age of 20 he felt like he was stumbling around through life on a thread.

Now, 23 and young still, Draco appeared to have mended the broken pieces of himself the war so brutally broke as if over night.
His parents questioned him, gave him confused and guilty facial expressions, blaming themselves for the way Draco had become. He was hard, not as cold as he was as a boy, but stoic.

Draco no longer gave insults to those who happened to be in his way, but he was quiet, leaving people tend to there own way of figuring out if he was judging them, or if his silence was the effect of insults too grand and hurtful to even say aloud.

Lastly, Draco was reserved. He kept to himself most of the time, just because it was better that way. He had never known true friendship, and if he started to invest now he wouldn't know how to maintain such a relationship; not that he could care enough either.

Now Draco faced another problem, another amongst a shit ton of others that clung to his body and weighed him down.

"You want me to what?" Draco asked flatly, squinting his eyes at his father, making sure he heard him right.

Lucius sat still in the large black love seat in front of his son, who sat cross legged, arms spread on either side of him on the back of the leather couch. Lucius still appeared as though life were dragging him around, as if Voldemort were still hanging around him like a ghost. His appearance was dreadful, and even now Draco was always still amazed that his father looked the way he did. Silver hair in disarray, unshaven face to appear as though he were an animal, and his eyes were the picture of decay. Lucius Malfoy, had done nothing but roam around the manor in his thoughts, thoughts Draco could only assume we're haunting.

They were silent, and the tension between them seemed endless. They were both men of intimidation, but Lucius being the father always used that to his advantage, to win silent battles such as now. That and the fact that Draco still lived with him in the Manor gave Lucius a higher power, much to Draco's annoyance.

Lucius opened his mouth then, words not coming out until he too crossed his legs.

"I want you to get to know the Greengrass family, Daphne in particular, she was always a bright witch at school wasn't she?" Lucius questioned, his features asking in a way that made him seem mightier than he actually was; trying to intimidate his own son.

Draco raised a brow at his father, almost coaxing him to break this mighty facade he had going for the entire conversation. He would do this often, and Draco always found himself subtly bringing his fingers to his lips, touching them to remind himself not to tell Lucius to fuck off. Draco was a little more respectful of his father than that, he owed him that much; which wasn't much if he actually thought about it.

"Father, you don't even like the Greengrass family." Draco said, raising his hands up for extra texture to their dull conversation.

"I'm not too keen on their beliefs, but they are of good blood. The Greengrass children, their Godfather is head of the muggle department in the ministry."

"You-"

Lucius leant forward and propped a hand up to silence his son, stilling his lifeless blue-grey eyes on the son that had grown so much over the years.

"It's not my favorite department, but it is a start. Close yourself with Daphne, she's your age and a suitable wife for any fine young wizard like yourself Draco. She's also a fine connection to get you an internship or an apprentice position with Clark Huff, the head of the department, or Godfather to Daphne."

Draco closed his mouth and relaxed his hands back on the backing of the couch in a slapping sound. His breath was still, calm and collected as he stared at his father with hard lifeless features.

"You want me to use Daphne, to then use and manipulate Mr. Huff in order to rise to the top?" Draco mused, seeming not at all too surprised, nor worried of the amount of work he would have to put into all of this. Mostly because, if he agreed to do this it would be another thing to preoccupy him, even find pleasure in the company of Daphne; as a man of course.

Lucius leant back in the love seat, even pushing into the leather a little as if wanting it to consume him. Then his eyes moved to the side, eyeing the floor to let whatever was on his mind engulf him before laying them back on his son, and he looked... sad.

"I just don't want you to end up like me, Draco."

Astoria Greengrass Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora