LANDSLIDE, james potter [2]

Chapter Thirteen

Things between Lyra and Lucius had been even more tense than usual after what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup. She considered what he had done to be completely unacceptable and she had let him know. 

He had been proud of what him and the remaining Death Eaters had managed to accomplish, something which disgusted her to no end. When she had heard Draco commend his father on what had happened, she had unfortunately exploded at both of them. 

She hadn't ever really yelled at Draco before. But she'd had become enough. Lucius had spent the better part of the last twenty years committing horrid, atrocious crimes towards witches, wizards and muggles alike. 

For the past fourteen years, he had been throwing his awful beliefs on their son. Draco's only friends were people raised by people just like Lucius, everybody believing that they were the best of the best. 

Lyra may have believed in it, for the most part, when she was younger. But she had gotten to know better because she had a sister like Andromeda Tonks (who she still missed every day) and a cousin/friend like Sirius Black. They had planted enough seeds of doubt for her to begin to see the light herself. 

Draco didn't have that. All he had was a father whispering evil in his ears and a mother too cowardly to do anything about it, always worried about the consequences. But she was the only person in his life that didn't believe that muggleborns and muggles were beneath them.

She had always known he had inherited his father's prejudice, but she would never have suspected that her beloved little boy had inherited his cruelty, as well. Lyra wouldn't allow Draco to become like Lucius, a manipulative man driven only by his hatred and love for himself and his family name. 

She had regretted it instantly when she saw how hurt Draco had looked at her screaming in his and his father's faces. Telling him that what was happening was wrong and disgusting and that it was horrible that he even agreed with the actions. She knew that it had to be said, but she felt just as bad as her husband in that moment. 

She should have sat him down, perhaps with a nice cup of hot cocoa, and given him a calm lecture about why that amount of prejudice was wrong and dangerous. Now, all she had done was give her son a chilling fear of angering her. 

That was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. She was always terrified of upsetting her own parents when she was young, the way Draco didn't like upsetting his father. She had worked so hard for him not to feel the same way about her. Because while it took years to build up a sense of trust, it took only seconds to break it down. 

Lucius had almost seemed pleased at this. Like he was glad she had ruined all chances of convincing their son to be a blood traitor. While she hadn't acted like one in years, he knew that, deep down, that was always the kind of witch she was. A blood traitor. 

Her husband's influence on her son seemed to be growing stronger every minute, and she was afraid that hers, although not great from the start, was getting even weaker. She was scared that she was going to lose him to the Dark Side forever. 

The tipping point had come when Lucius had suggested that Draco switch schools to Durmstrang, thinking it would be better for him for learning the Dark Arts. Draco had seemed quite open to the idea. 

Lyra had flat-out refused. First of all, she did not want her son to be well-versed in the Dark Arts. Her own knowledge of it felt like it had ruined her life sometimes. She did not want her son's life to be ruined.

She said it was because she didn't want him to be that far away, but that wasn't the problem. It didn't matter whether he was in Scotland or some country in Scandinavia. He'd still not be at home.