Birthright

The House of Lords was back in session, and Draco found himself busier than he’d imagined. Lucius felt no remorse sending him on errands all over the legislative complex, down to the offices of the House of Commons and back again, and up to the Speaker’s office at the back of the assembly chambers as the need arose. Draco was run ragged the first week or so, but soon got into the rhythm of the House. Now he understood the weeks Lucius left him at home alone with Narcissa, and the nights Lucius would crawl into bed without so much as a word to either his wife or son.

Lignum Hall was a large seat, and Lucius held three votes. This made him a powerful figure in the House, and often the support of the Malfoy voting block would make or break a new law. Lucius also served as the vice-chairman of the Committee on Procedures and Privileges, and held considerable sway within the Ministry of Magic itself, despite his defeat and imprisonment. Draco had grown up cocksure with the knowledge that his father was a powerful man, but had never really seen how far that power stretched. As an aide he soon came to discover how his father had clawed his way into that position, through intimidation and a judicious application of his wealth.

Draco was no one and nothing to most of the delegates and their staffers—in either House. As a junior aide he wasn’t expected to hold any influence over the Lord he served. Most of the time, he stood silently and watched the process as a fly on the wall. He witnessed some fierce negotiations, and gained a newfound respect for his father’s self-control; Draco would have been tempted to kill several of the impertinent fools from the House of Commons, but Lucius managed to crack a smile and talk in pleasantries through gritted teeth. Once in a while a staffer would note the resemblance between the Malfoys and inquire cautiously as to Draco’s identity. As more and more of the aides discovered that the Malfoy heir was among them, he found that he was treated quite differently—with respect, with deference, and with fear. Delegates hoped to sway the Lignum votes through Draco.

The summer session was nearing its close, and soon Draco and Lucius would return to Lignum Hall for more than just the odd weekend. They already had their first week home planned out, to include several trips to the club to ride. Draco would need new silks, having continued to bulk out through the chest and shoulders even after he’d ceased growing taller.

Lucius was awakened one night by knocking at the door. His quarters in the House buildings were luxurious but rather on the small side; it was only a few meters from his bedroom to the main door of the suite. Lucius disentangled himself from Draco’s body and slipped out of bed, shrugging on his robe and tying it loosely around himself. He left his son soundly sleeping and closed the bedroom door behind him.

When he opened the main door, he stepped back. Narcissa raised her head and crossed her arms. “Hello, Lucius,” she said softly.

He stared at her for a long moment. “Won’t you come in,” he finally murmured, moving away to let her pass. He caught a whiff of her perfume as she walked by, and he felt a knot harden in his stomach.

“I knew I’d find you here. Workaholic.” She smiled bitterly. “I’m not going to debase myself with apologies or excuses. I am coming back to Lignum.”

Narcissa thought she was so smart, Lucius mused. Of course he would have let her come back before. It would not restore his honor, but it would help. And it would soothe his wounded heart. But now? He looked at her through the eyes of a man no longer in love. Lucius leaned against the door. “May I ask what prompted this?”

“No, you may not.” Narcissa sat on the couch and crossed her hands neatly in her lap. “I won’t answer any questions regarding my absence.” She looked at him and her gaze was cold; he shuddered. “I know you, Lucius. You don’t really care where I’ve been or with whom. You just want me to come back to you.”

“You think you know me.” Lucius crossed to the other sofa but did not sit. “Perhaps you did. Narcissa, I’m not alone here.”

She looked surprised, but smoothed her features. “I see. Of course you must do something to soothe your wounded pride. Is she youLuciLucius? Beautiful?”

Lucius shrugged. “I would leave that to your judgment.” He looked at her and the tendon on the side of his jaw jumped. “You wounded more than my pride, Narcissa. I gave you my heart. You all but destroyed me.” He looked away, toward the window, where mightight was streaming in, gloriously bright and blue. It made his eyes seem to glow. “Why should I have you back?”

“Because I am your wife,” she said, anger rising in her voice.

Outrage flared to life in Lucius’ gaze. This woman had used him all along, he realized. And here she was, trying to do it again. He forced his tone to be flippant. “Oh? I seem to recall signing some papers that said otherwise, as per your request.” He wheeled on her; his eyes blazed. “Did you run your Romeo out of money, Narcissa? Or did he tire of you already?”

She said nothing.

“I loved you once, but apparently you define that emotion differently than I do.”

“If you loved me so damned much, why are you in the arms of another woman?” she demanded furiously.

“I never said my lover was a woman,” Lucius murmured. “But death is in the details. Why shouldn’t I be in another’s arms? You were.” He glowered at her. “How long was I cuckolded, Narcissa? Months? Years? I admit I was away from home quite a bit, so you had ample opportunity for illicit rendezvous. No, Narcissa, I won’t be taking you back. You’re soiled.”

“I?” She stood and lunged toward him; he didn’t even blink. “I am soiled? When you have just admitted to me that you have returned to your filthy little homosexual habits?” Her voice was a brutal hiss.

Neither of them heard the door open. Draco leaned against the frame, clad only in his silk boxers, listening to the altercation. “There is an old saying about glass houses, Narcissa,” Lucius snarled. His voice was unlike anything Draco had ever heard; he sounded like he could chew glass and not receive a scratch. Lucius’ rage and pain had been building up for months now, and he would hold back no longer.

“Damn it Lucius, you’re such a child!” Narcissa’s hands clenched into fists. “I was wrong to leave, all right? If you weren’t such an arrogant fool you’d see that I’m trying to fix that mistake!”

“You did run him out of money!” Lucius laughed cruelly. “How long before his family realized you were sucking the life out of his bank account like the vampire you are?” She slapped him, hard enough to make Draco flinch in sympathy. Lucius slowly turned his face back to hers and she raised her hand again. He caught her delicate wrist. “Never touch me again,” he said. His voice was cold enough to cause frostbite. “Not unless you are prepared to kill me.”

Narcissa’s eyes were wild and afraid, and darted around in search of aid. She lly lly spotted Draco in the shadows. Lucius followed her eyes and his face seemed to pale. He didn’t want Draco to see him like this, out of control with anger.

“So this is him,” she seethed. She wrenched her arm from Lucius’ grasp and stalked toward Draco. In the dimness she couldn’t see his face. He straightened. “How dare you,” she snarled. “You filth. How long did you wait before you moved on him? A week after I’d left? Two? You disgust me.”

Draco stepped forward into the moonlight. For a moment her face was confused. He had changed some, and it was quite dark. But realization began to dawn on her.

“Hello, Mother,” he said softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Narcissa’s eyes went wide with shock. “My god,” she breathed, stepping back. “Draco?” He nodded. Narcissa looked at him and back at Lucius, who seemed to be holding his breath. She cried out and moved away from them, toward the door. “You, you…” she stammered. “What has he done to you?”

Draco crossed his arms. His biceps curved and hardened with the motion, with a feral beauty. He was inherently threatening, tall and muscular and aggressively male. Narcissa shook her head in disbelief; this was her little boy? “Nothing that I have not been happy to do in return.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“I really think it would be best if you left quietly, Mother.”

Her posture changed as she took on a new tactic. “Draco, darling,” she wheedled. “I wrote to you…I love you…” His gaze remained hard and she sensed this. “Baby, please.”

“If you ever call me that again, you will regret it.”

Her lip trembled. “Fine. I hope the two of you are very happy together,” she hissed. She flung the door open and stalked out. Draco moved to the doorframe and watched her disappear down the hall. He closed the door and leaned against it, looking at Lucius. They stared at each other for a moment and then Lucius began to laugh.

He laughed until Draco thought he would cry. Lucius wiped his eyes and quieted himself finally. Suddenly he looked very tired and very, very old. Draco gathered him into his arms and pulled his head to his shoulder. “Hush.”

“Oh, dragon,” Lucius murmured.

“You almost lost it.”

“I did lose it. Several times. Had you not arrived…I don’t know what I would have done to her.”

“You wouldn’t have hurt her.” Draco stroked his father’s hair and kissed his temple.

“You can’t know that.” Lucius pulled back and turned away, toward the window. Draco touched his shoulders gently, pushing aside his hair and kissing the back of his neck.

“Forget her. Forget this happened. Come back to bed.” He kissed along Lucius’ shoulder. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Lucius let himself be led back to the bedroom. Draco kissed him softly before dotting gentle touches to his strong cheekbones, chin, and throat, stopping at his collarbone. “I love you,” he murmured.

“And I you, dragon,” Lucius answered. He surrendered himself to Draco’s arms.

An hour later he was still awake, staring sightlessly at the wall. Draco stirred beside him and woke. “Still up?” he asked blearily. Lucius nodded. Draco gently brushed his father’s hair away from the back of his neck to press a kiss there. It was Draco’s favorite spot on Lucius’ body, and he traced little circles on his lover’s flesh with the tip of his nose. “You’re going to be exhausted in the morning,” he warned.

“Hmm. Don’t let me fall asleep in the meeting,” Lucius murmured. He closed his eyes, but knew he was still too keyed-up to sleep. Draco stroked his back gently, pausing occasionally to kiss the nape of his neck.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” Draco said softly. “Your eyes get this fire…”

“I don’t like to lose control…I thought I was getting better, since…since…that place. But I was wrong. Control is very important to me.”

“I know. You taught me that from the start.” Draco moved his kisses to his father’s shoulder, and his thumb stroked the elder Malfoy’s flank. Their legs were pleasantly tangled, and the warm, flat plane of Draco’s belly pressed against the small of Lucius’ back.

“You are terribly good at distracting me,” Lucius said, chuckling. His chest rumbled with his laughter.

“Good. Hush now. Just relax and let mt yot you to sleep.” Draco moved one hand in gentle arcs up downdown Lucius’ arm and shoulder, pressing his chest closer to his father’s back. “Close your eyes,” he purred, dropping his voice to a velvety whisper. Lucius obeyed. “Now take deep, slow breaths. Breathe with me.” He took several long, even breaths, and when Lucius had matched his rhythm he spoke again.

“Now Lucius, I want you to think about nothing but your breathing and my words. Listen to my voice.” Lucius nodded and Draco smiled. “It’s quiet here, Lucius. It’s dark. We’re alone. You’ve had a very long day and tomorrow will be another one. But instead of thinking about the meetings and the frantic pace of life, I want you to envision yourself at home, in your own bed.”

Lucius settled in more, allowing himself to relax. Between the long, slow strokes of Draco’s hand and the deep, soft tones of his voice, Lucius could feel himself slipping already into sleep. “I’m here beside you, my flesh touching your flesh. I love you more than anything in the entire world. The old tree outside the window is tappinntlyntly on the glass. It’s warm and cozy in your bedroom, and you can hear me breathing in the silent darkness. You’re happy and tired.”

Draco paused; Lucius’ breathing was slow and even, and he glanced over his father’s shoulder. The lines of the older wizard’s face had smoothed and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned. Draco chuckled and tugged the blankets more securely around his body, settling in. He closed his eyes and let his breathing synch up with Lucius’, until at last he joined his father in sleep.

THE END I can’t believe you read all forty pages of that. My, you have almost as little to keep you occupied as I do.