The Malfoy Chronicles

Things indeed look bleak for our heroes, but just keep reading and I think the blow is softened, so to say...

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Abraxas nodded to his father, and then made himself sparse in the corner. Draco threw his mother and daughter onto the floor beside Harry. Draco released the body bind on Harry, who sat up beside Narcissa. He picked up Harry’s discarded wand, and pocketed it. He then went to his father and searched him until he found the man’s wand, and added it to his ever growing collection. He had already taken his mother’s after he simply annihilated her in the duel.



He regarded his father’s unconscious body with mild interest. “Now what to do with you?” he asked, and then his face lit up. He went over to Draca’s chest-of-drawers, and opened the bottom drawer. But he was disappointed with the contents, so he closed it. Then an evil smile crept across his lips, and he walked out of the room.



“We’re totally fucked, aren’t we?” Draca asked, causing a surprised look from Harry and Narcissa.



Narcissa groaned. “Unfortunately, my potty-mouthed little angel…I think we are.” She said. And Abraxas stepped forward to twist the metaphorical knife.



“I think you all deserve it.” He said. He approached Harry, regarding the man with mild interest.



He pushed Harry’s hair away from his forehead, revealing the legendary scar. “So you’re Harry Potter. James’ dad. Bit of a pickle you’ve gotten yourself in…” he said. Harry jumped at Abraxas as if he were going to attack him, and Abraxas jumped back with a squeal. Harry gave a muffled chuckle through his gag.



There was a soft groan from the other side of the room. Lucius was coming to. He opened his grey eyes, and looked around. “Damn.” He said, when he realized his predicament. He looked over at the motley crew on the other side of the room. “Well…at least misery has company. How are you, Draca?” he asked. The little girl gave him a weak smile.



“Okay…I wish I could get to Mr. Dragon, though.” She said, and looked wistfully at the giant white dragon sitting on her bed. Abraxas looked at her.



He approached the bed, steering clear of the side his grandfather was on. He picked up the giant dragon. “This old rag? It should be burned….matter-of-fact…” he said, and Draca set up a racket.



It was then Lucius realized that his granddaughter must have listened to some horrible conversations, because she had just started in on some very colorful phrases for what Abraxas could do if he dared to hurt Mr. Dragon.



But when her father came back into the room, she quieted immediately. Lucius couldn’t see the door, but he craned his neck to try. Narcissa’s, Draca’s, and Harry’s eyes all fell on what Draco was holding in his hand and horror crossed their faces. A long black whip trailed to the floor. It’s tip, Harry observed, was split at the tip, and each little piece was tipped with a tiny piece of bone used to tear into flesh.



“Draco….think about what you’re doing…” his mother begged, and he cracked the whip, silencing her. Lucius bristled at the sound.



Lucius rested his forehead against Draca’s bedpost in a sort of terrified resignation. He certainly couldn’t talk the boy out of it, and he was stuck. Anything he said would probably only add to the misery.



And then it began. Draco brought the whip crashing down on his father’s back with blinding force. Lucius hissed an intake of breath, his eyes closing against the searing pain.



Draca began to cry softly. The trio against the wall could see Lucius’ back, and the way the whip had sliced easily through the material of his shirt also made it possible to see the blood welling up in the fresh stripe on his back. But Abraxas gave a cheer. Draco turned and flashed the boy a smile, before bringing the whip down on his father’s back again. This time Lucius yelped.



Harry watched with conflicting emotions. Lucius was a convicted criminal. He had spent time in Azkaban for the murder and torture of countless people. But…Harry felt himself wince as another stripe was lanced into Lucius’ back. The man had been described as a protector by Narcissa. Perhaps he could change. All people can change if given the chance. Perhaps Azkaban was Lucius’ chance. Perhaps…but his train of thought was once again interrupted by the loud crack of the whip. Harry looked at Lucius’ face. The man had bared his teeth in pain, and his eyes were shut tight. His hair was tied back with a ribbon, and the tail hung at his shoulder. Harry began to accept the hopelessness of their situation when…



A small head with a cloud of black hair poked around the doorway, and Harry saw James’ face. But he only saw it for a moment, for it disappeared again before he could train his sight on the boy. Panic gripped him, and he cursed James silently for being so ingenious. With James’ half-breed status, he wasn’t Traced like other children were, and he was also given the amazing talent of being able to produce magic when he wanted it, and without the use of a wand. So he often got himself into trouble that would have caused the immediate expulsion of any Hogwarts-age student. But seeing as James was young AND half-human….he got away with a lot. The boy had probably Apparated himself there, with the knowledge of the whereabouts of Malfoy Manor being almost as well known as the whereabouts of his own house.



But James also had another trick up his sleeve that his father actually hoped he would use. When James had been needlessly experimented on, he was imbibed with magic that surpassed any normal Wizards expectations…not that James would EVER be a normal wizard… but James was gifted with the most amazing ability to be able to transform into any creature of both Muggle and Magical origin. The only two downfalls were that the creatures were always black with gold eyes, and could give him away if the natural creature came in no black coloring, and if the creature was exceptionally large, like a dragon, it was scaled down significantly, and James could sometimes control the size.



James had decided to go with a dragon the size of a small horse. The moment the great black creature stepped into the doorway, Draco paused. He gasped, and dropped the whip, taking giant steps back. James trotted into Draca’s room, eliciting screams from Draca, Narcissa, and Abraxas. Draco was quiet with shock. Harry grinned through his gag.



The black dragon backed Draco into a wall, and then lifted a razor-clawed paw and pinned Draco to the wall. Draco looked in James’ gold dragon eyes in horror. James, in no immediate hurry to gut Draco like a fish, used his long neck to withdraw his head, akin to a snake pulling back before in struck. And strike James did. But not with his fangs. He kept his face forward and slammed his hard dragon head against Draco's, immediately knocking the man unconscious. He then transformed back into his half-human form, getting a hearty cheer from Draca and Narcissa. The two immediately ran to Lucius, having only been rooted to their spots in fear. James ran to his father, and untied the man’s hands. Harry pulled the gag from his mouth.



“Way to go, my boy, but you’re still grounded for disobeying…” Harry said, and James laughed. “No…I’m serious.” He said, but he hugged the boy anyway.



Narcissa tried vainly to untie the knots that bound Lucius’ hands. She cursed. “Who taught him how to tie knots? The fucking Royal Navy?” she asked. Lucius gave a weak chuckle.



“Dear…I must ask you a question: Are you a witch or not?” he asked, and she blushed for her stupidity. She ran to her unconscious son and retrieved hers, Harry's and her husband’s wands gingerly from his pockets. She loosed the ties by magic, tossed Harry his wand and handed Lucius his. He stood shakily, and gently rubbed his wrists. He winced as he straightened his back.



But something crossed over James’ face. His nose twitched, as if he smelled something. His head turned in the direction of Draco’s body, and he approached him, his nose actively sniffing. He smelled Draco, and then a deep growl rose in his throat. “Espiritus Retractum.” He said, and his hand became transparent. He reached down, his transparent hand reaching in Draco’s chest, and he pulled with all his might, dislodging a silvery form.

Harry nearly wet himself and felt his forehead tingle from habit.



Voldemort’s ghost stared at James, and then at all of the other horrified faces in the room, finally lighting on harry.



He gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, well. If it isn’t the Boy Who Wouldn’t Fucking Die…”

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Hoy Mother-of-Pearl, people! How I come up with this stuff is a mystery...but I feel like this is a great way to let Draco off the hook...