Amore Schiavo

Draco smiled at his father, seating himself across from the man, who was relaxing behind the large mahogany desk in his study. He sat, careful to keep his posture and bearing every bit as regal and detached as he could, so that his father would find no cause for complaint, and watched the man, keeping his smile cool and his eyes dispassionate. “Father, you wanted to talk to me?” He asked with the slightest touch of curiosity in his voice, but not seeming to be too interested, for that would be unbecoming of a Malfoy.

“I did, Draco.” Lucius said, drawing out a bottle of Scotch. “Would you join me in a drink?” He asked, walking over to his liquor cabinet and taking down two glasses.

Draco nodded. “I would love to. Thank you, Father.” He said, accepting the liquor, even though he enjoyed wine far more than the harsh alcohol his father favoured. This was familiar ground, and he knew that to decline would make him appear weak.

Lucius smiled in approval, pouring the drinks and walking back to his seat, handing one glass to Draco.

Draco sipped his drink, watching his father do the same, and calmly swallowed the liquid, feeling the burn as it settled in his stomach, letting it run through him without a flinch. The Malfoy mask stayed in place the whole time. It had to.

Lucius set his drink in his lap, cradling it carefully. “I’ve been thinking of the person you are becoming, Draco. You have come far, my son.”

“Thank you, Father. But I am sure I have a long way to go, still, if I want to be at my best.” Draco said.

“I have been thinking about the man you are fast becoming. You have some valuable skills already, my son.”

Uh-oh.

This was dangerous ground, very dangerous. ‘Why did I think I was safe? I should have been gone three days ago, when I turned seventeen!’ Draco kept his panic inside, quickly focusing on his father. ‘I can do this. It HAS to work!’

“I can improve my skills, still.” He fought to keep his hand from shaking as he took another sip of the scotch, challenging his father.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, and Draco stared calmly back. “I have a business associate, you know the one, who believes that he would be able to use your skills. You shall have to become a man soon, Draco.” He warned.

Draco nodded. “Not too soon, I hope. The last year of schooling is very important. And I’m Head Boy. Quite an honour to have another Head Boy in the family, isn’t it, Father? After all, the last one was your Grandfather, was it not?”

And Draco knew the battle was his.

But the war was far from over.

“It is also an honour to keep with tradition, Draco.” Lucius said coldly.

Draco took the last sip of the amber liquid and set his glass down, sitting back. “And I will be most honoured to join the family business next year. I must learn all I can this year, to be of use even further.” The logic in that statement was irrefutable.

Lucius raised his eyebrows minutely, a sign of pride, surprise and approval at being bested by his son in a verbal battle of wills. “Very well, Draco. You may have your last year of youth. But when you return home for the summer, you must become a man.”

Draco stood and bowed. “I look forward to it, Father.” He said.