Kneeling

A/N: To LadyE: Don’t worry, I’m not stuck - in fact, the plot of this story has been fully formed in my head for months.
Anyone else who reviewed: Thank you so much!


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Fortunately the Slytherin dorm was deserted when Draco got there. The others would be at dinner right now. He was grateful that he wouldn’t have to try to hide his red-rimmed eyes, or the way his clothes were messed up.

He made sure to lock the door with the most powerful locking spell he knew. This was not a good moment for anyone to walk in on him. Everyone returning early could damn well wait.
He flinched back from his face in the mirror. He looked terrible, his face red and puffy, his robes crumpled and stained. There were still dried streaks of semen clinging to his hair. Truly disgraceful. He suppressed a shudder.

Draco stripped out of his clothes, throwing them into the rubbish bin. He wasn’t in the mood to try and clean the stains out of them, and he didn’t need the reminder they posed, either.
Cleaning up felt almost like a ritual, and he allowed himself to bask in the symbolism of it. He showered thoroughly, and then performed cleaning spells until his skin tingled. He dressed in his second best robes. A spell took care of the folds they had gotten from hanging in the cupboard for too long. He wanted to look impeccable for this. He finished the ritual by brushing his hair until it it was falling smoothly to his shoulders, shining silver-bright.
One last check in the mirror, back straight and upright - perfect.


The fire obediently came to life with no more than a muttered word. Draco watched the dancing flames for a long moment, pulling himself together, then threw the floo powder into the blaze.

“Malfoy manor!” he ordered, and when the flames turned a purple so dark it was almost black: “Heres sum. Permitti me videre.”

The spell took a long moment to counter the powerful wards protecting the Malfoys’ privacy, then the fire burned green once more.

“Lucius”, he told it, and stepped in. His father’s office appeared before him. There was none of the sensation of spinning through he air that floo travel usually brought. But then, he wasn’t really traveling at all. His body had not left Hogwarts. It wasn’t actually possible to leave or access the school through the floo network, but at least it was possible to speak face to face.

He stood in the fire, untouched by the heat if the flames. Of course the fire places in the Malfoys’ house were big enough to stand upright - none of the indignity of kneeling in front of the fire and appearing as nothing but a talking head.

His father looked up from where he’d been perusing a long, half-rolled-up parchment.
“Draco.” His voice betrayed no emotion, but he immediately put his work aside and got up to stand in front of him.

“What do you need, son?”

Draco could almost physically feel the heavy weight in his stomach lifting at his father’s voice. Somewhere, deep inside him, there was a childish desire to throw himself into Lucius’ strong arms and cling to him, as he had done when he was a small child, but a lifetime of learning to ignore such urges served him well now. He knew that his face showed nothing but composed calm, that his posture was as flawless as his father would expect. A Malfoy preserved his dignity under all circumstances.

“I would like to ask your help with a… problem”, he said. “I’d rather do it in person, though.”

It was difficult to listen in on the floo network, especially with a connection as heavily warded as this one, but it could be and had been done. This was not going to be the kind of conversation he wanted to take any risks with.

His father nodded. “Can you be in Hogsmeade in two hours?” he asked.

Draco thought about it for a moment. “Of course.”

It was the Hogsmeade weekend anyway - he’d just been planning to spend it doing something else. But thinking of that was awakening feelings he did’t want to dwell on in his father’s company. Not if he wished to keep his calm demeanor.

“I’ll be there.”

Stepping out of the fire, he could faintly hear his father telling the houseelf to cancel the appointment with Mr. Fudge. Warmth curled through him at the knowledge that his father would still blow off important meetings just because Draco needed him. He wondered, as he had many times before, what all the people looking up to Lucius Malfoy with varying degrees of fear, respect and hate would say if they knew that Lucius was, above all else, a loving father.

They all expected him to be the kind of parent who substituted attention with expensive gifts, love with discipline. They all were wrong.

Oh, not about the gifts, of course. Lucius had gotten him the best broom money could buy before he’d been legally old enough to own one. But then he’d also taken the afternoon off to show him how to fly. It had been Lucius who had taught him to be proud of himself, telling him of the Malfoy’s noble lineage on long walks over the ground that would once be his heritage.

Of course they didn’t let anyone witness the affection between them, not when every feeling was a weakness that could so easily be used against yourself. And any pureblood should have more dignity than to hug and kiss in public the way the Weasles did, anyway.

But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a strong bond between them - and the confirmation of that had never felt better than now, when he needed it so desperately. In only two hours his father would be here, and then… well, he hadn’t actually allowed himself to dwell on that particular moment yet. He was under no illusions that his father would be pleased with what he had to say. But that didn’t matter, as personal feelings never did when they interfered with one’s duties. And the duty towards the family was still the most important of them all for a Malfoy.

In the end, his father would help him, as he had always done, when - admit it - Draco had screwed up. Lucius hadn’t been pleased to hear that he had failed to get into the Slytherin’s quidditch team, either, but he had helped him out then anyway. This was bigger than quidditch, of course, but nothing could be bigger than the bonds of loyalty binding their family together. Nothing was, for the Malfoys. It wasn’t something they had ever let outsiders know about them, but it had always been one of their biggest sources of strength.



One hour later Draco was sitting in the Hog’s Head, sipping butterbeer. His father would be here soon, and then he’d get what he wanted. Love potion. The mere thought sent a shiver through his body. They were highly illegal, of course, their use punished almost as harshly as imperio. Now that he thought about it, he guessed it made sense. In a way, their effects were similar - both created to subdue the will of those they were used on, both forcing their victim to do things they would never have wanted in their right mind.

There were people who considered love potions to be the worse evil, even, because where imperio raped the mind, those raped the spirit, forcing not only deeds, but thoughts and feelings. And, yes, when you looked at it that way, it really was… worse… Merlin.

His thoughts trailed off into nothingness, and then it was as if something just snapped in his mind. What had he been thinking? Suddenly the thought of doing such a thing to Harry seemed unbearable, obscene. How could he have wanted to do something like that to the one he loved?

He’d been reacting like a stupid child from the moment Harry left him. Nothing had mattered except getting his will, he hadn’t been thinking at all. God, what a terrible thing to find in his own head, to know that he was capable of sinking to such lows. It would have been rape indeed, more so than if he had just thrown Harry on the floor and had his way. His conscience had not been pure for a long time, but this was not something he wanted to be. Not ever.
It was then that his father entered the pub and jerked Draco out of his thoughts. His mind was spinning very quickly suddenly. He hadn’t had time to think about what to tell him. The truth was out - now that he didn’t need help anymore, there was no reason to worry his father with the full implications of what he was doing. He didn’t even know what he was going to do now, had no idea how to fix what had happened. If he even really wanted to. He needed more time to think.

But he didn’t want to lie, not now, when he could still feel the strength his father’s unquestioning support had lent him. He got up to greet Lucius, once again almost wishing for a hug. It would have been good to be able to talk about the situation, to be able to get an outsider’s view on the whole problem, but he wouldn’t allow himself such a weakness.
So he made his voice stiff and formal during their greeting, just as his father would expect of him in public. They sat down opposite one another.

“So what is it you need, Draco?” his father asked. No beating around the bush when it was just the two of them. Mindgames were for others, not family.

“I’m…” Draco began and caught himself just in time before he started to stutter. He concentrated on making his voice sound composed, assured.

“I have decided that I have to solve this problem on my own. I am very sorry to have inconvienced you needlessly.”

The words, hastily composed in his head, sounded strange and pompous when he spoke them out loud, but at least his voice never waverd.

He hadn’t expected the reaction the words got, either. His father didn’t look annoyed - which would have been expected, after he had cancelled an important meeting for nothing - but rather, there was almost a look of pride.

“You’ve grown up, son”, he said, getting up. Draco followed him to the door. He was surprised, and a tiny bit hurt by his father’s reaction. It wasn’t like this was the first challenge he’d ever faced up to himself. There was… there… well, he couldn’t think of a thing right now, but he was sure there were plenty. Really, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that he could look after himself. He was a Malfoy, after all.

At the door Lucius turned to him again.
“Draco, I have every confidence in your ability to manage this, whatever it is. But remember, when you do need me, I’m there for you.”

He turned and apparated without waiting for an answer. Draco stared at the place where he had been for a long moment. This was not the kind of thing his father usually said out loud,even if he had proven it time and time again with his actions.. But the reassurance had felt good, better than he wanted to admit.

And he knew now what he had to do, too. It was time to end this foolish affair. He would not put up with Harry’s behaviour any longer. Their relationship was over. It was time for him to get over Harry Potter.