Drarry Oneshots

3: Telling The Farther

I don't even know how to speak up for myself, because I don't really have a father who would give me the confidence or advice.

-Eminem

Telling The Farther

Draco frowned at the large castle like building. It loomed above him like a dark shadow, taunting him with it's lifeless black windows and moulded walls, there were even ravens flying overhead. The whole place gave of a haunted look, and the blonde boy guessed that the inside of the house was just as bad since the outside was a complete wreck. Draco knew what monsters lay deep inside of the mansion, and dark, spooky aroma of the place didn't help with his fleeting confidence.

Why couldn't he do the confrontation with his farther somewhere else? Like somewhere public where he's bound not to make a scene, and instead keep up the barely respectable Malfoy name? Somewhere he won't lunge for his own sons throat when Draco tells him his news. Because Lucius is almost, if not more, of a train-wreck than his son is, and has taken to hiding away in his house like a rat in a hole. He doesn't come out anymore, he doesn't talk to anyone, in fact no one has seen him since Voldemort fell dead and his wife committed suicide.

Today, when Draco walks into the same room as his farther, it would be the first time he has seen him in seven years. And to say he was nervous was an understatement. Lucius had never liked his son much and made it evidently clear to said son, telling him that he's pathetic and not fit for the Malfoy name. But still, he was the boys farther, and Draco cared for him even then, much to his boyfriend Harry's disliking.

Draco drew a deep breath and tightened his grip on Harrys hand, who was standing next to him and regarding the place like it was a death trap, which it possible was. "Ready?"

Harry looked down at his lover. "Are you ready?" Draco hesitated, took another deep breath, and nodded, earning a sigh from the black haired boy. "You don't have to do this. You already know how you're farther's going to react, so why put yourself through that?"

"I just...he might..."

"Baby, you gotta stop holding onto the hope that he's gonna accept you, beca-"

"I know...but this is just something i have to do. I have to know."

Harry sighed in resignation, knowing perfectly well that his lover won't drop it until he's seen his farther's reaction. He knows he's being rather harsh and quite frankly rude, but he's being real. And he just want's to protect Draco, he doesn't want him getting hurt again. "Alright."

They make their way inside, the whole time sticking as close as possible together as if the vines creeping on the concrete and suffocating the garden statues would magically reach out and tear them apart. Or maybe the cracked pathway, or the broken glass would find some way to divide them, much like how Lucius would when he sees them. Maybe the hate from the man living here seeped into the house and now the house hates them too. That's stupid.

"I can't believe i used to live here." Draco murmured, tentatively reaching out a hand and patting a water fountain statue. It was a dragon, carved beautifully from granite with extreme detail. The statue crumbles from the pressure, and he retracts his hand back. "This place has turned into a dump."

Harry snorted. "Well you know who lives here. So it's not surprising."

"Harry!" Draco scolded, hitting him on the arm making his lover adopt a guilty look. "Don't say that in front of him."

"But he's not here right now."

"That was a future warning."

They come to a set of giant mahogany doors wrapped in ivy and coated in mould. One of the doors was unhinged, leaning against it's partner like a drunkard. Harry was forced to use a spell to open it since they refused to open like normal doors. Inside it was dark, the only light supplied was the ones on the end of their wands and the sunlight that snuck in through the clouds in the sky and through the windows. But as they went deeper into the belly of the beast, the sunlight became less of a reliable source.