The Secret of the Malfoy Name
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
22,771
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
22,771
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter III: A Child in the Dark
Chapter III: A Child in the Dark
12/24/91
Christmas… Draco never really got what all the Christmas fuss was about. Of course, he knew about the birth of Jesus, but the Bible, just like his father had taught him, was just a muggle book of fantastic stories, something that was not to be believed by them.
He knew better than believing everything he read and, somehow, he believed in the Greek religion more. He was a very intelligent young man and the idea of a woman getting pregnant with God’s child seemed absolutely preposterous. So why was he celebrating the birth of a bastard that muggles looked up to as a saviour?
Nevertheless, he did like receiving gifts, specially the ones that his parents gave him. Two years before they had given him a broom! His first broom! He had spent so much time that whole week learning how to control it. Too much time, maybe… He usually spent his days with Hera down in the dungeons, but that week he didn’t notice how much he had abandoned her until he found her crying because she felt so alone in the dark.
Using the excuse that it was too painful to see their own daughter in the dungeons and it was best for them to push it as back in their minds as they could, Lucius and Narcissa hardly ever visited her and they always suggested Draco for him to do the same. He never did.
That Christmas eve was no different than the last. Draco found himself having dinner with his parents’ friends and their kids, his new classmates. Pansy was constantly trying to get his attention; Vincent and Gregory were entertaining themselves drawing faces with their food; his parents were talking animatedly with the Parkinsons, the Goyles and the Crabbes. Draco was the only one who couldn’t wait for the party to end so he could go see his little sister. Being away at school had been torture for him. It was the first time he spent so much time away from Hera and he couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for her.
‘Don’t you think so, Draco?’, Pansy asked flirtingly.
‘Er… yes’, he said, completely oblivious of what conversation was he supposed to be having.
‘So you do think you look like a dying racoon?’, she asked folding her arms angrily. ‘You weren’t listening to me, were you?’
‘Sorry, Pansy… I’m just… distracted. That’s all.’
‘So, what do you think of Potter?’, she asked.
‘You know exactly what I think of him. He’s a nobody with a name, a show-off and an extremely lucky git. He should’ve fell off his broom during that Quidditch game to save us the trouble of baring with his existence’, he hissed.
Draco still hadn’t forgiven himself for being the one who helped Potter into the Quidditch team, making Slytherin lose the first match of the year. Pansy looked unsure if she should grin like an idiot for having a conversation with Draco or cry, because the only way she could get his attention was bringing stupid Potter up.
Once the meal was over and the guests left, Draco went up to his room and waited for his parents to go to theirs. He was lying awake in bed, listening to his parents’ steps going into the master bedroom, his mother’s giggles and his father’s whispers, followed by the door being locked magically. He knew far too well what would be going on in that bedroom in a matter of minutes; they never bothered to use a silencing charm on the door.
Before going all the way to the dungeons, Draco went into the library: his sanctuary. Right there, in the middle of the room, was Hera’s old crib, where she would lie down whenever he read to her. He had begged for his father to leave it there just for him to remember her and feel her presence when he was there. Draco walked towards it and looked down into it, resting his left arm over the wooden guardrail. The crib remained untouched, protected from insects, dust and humidity by several charms he had learnt. Untouched and empty, like his life had been most of the time he had been at Hogwarts. The only times he had felt anything at all had been pure hatred for Scarhead and maybe some satisfaction when Professor Snape rewarded him for his efforts in class.
He didn’t want to go back there. He didn’t want to live an empty life, pretending the only part of it that mattered had been dead for three years.
He entered the dungeons and lit his wand. The place was huge, since it was practically as large as the Manor, but the regular cells were all empty. He opened the door at the back that led to Hera’s chambers, and as soon as the bluish glow coming from the tip of his wand penetrated the mortal darkness, he could see her beautiful sleeping features resting over her pillow. He walked up to her small bed and kissed her cheek softly, not wanting to wake her up.
‘Daky…’, she whispered in her sleep, making his brother smile fondly.
‘Yes, Hera… Daky’s back…’
A/N: there\'s an image for this chapter at http://img95.echo.cx/img95/6219/thesecretofthemalfoyname3sn.jpg
12/24/91
Christmas… Draco never really got what all the Christmas fuss was about. Of course, he knew about the birth of Jesus, but the Bible, just like his father had taught him, was just a muggle book of fantastic stories, something that was not to be believed by them.
He knew better than believing everything he read and, somehow, he believed in the Greek religion more. He was a very intelligent young man and the idea of a woman getting pregnant with God’s child seemed absolutely preposterous. So why was he celebrating the birth of a bastard that muggles looked up to as a saviour?
Nevertheless, he did like receiving gifts, specially the ones that his parents gave him. Two years before they had given him a broom! His first broom! He had spent so much time that whole week learning how to control it. Too much time, maybe… He usually spent his days with Hera down in the dungeons, but that week he didn’t notice how much he had abandoned her until he found her crying because she felt so alone in the dark.
Using the excuse that it was too painful to see their own daughter in the dungeons and it was best for them to push it as back in their minds as they could, Lucius and Narcissa hardly ever visited her and they always suggested Draco for him to do the same. He never did.
That Christmas eve was no different than the last. Draco found himself having dinner with his parents’ friends and their kids, his new classmates. Pansy was constantly trying to get his attention; Vincent and Gregory were entertaining themselves drawing faces with their food; his parents were talking animatedly with the Parkinsons, the Goyles and the Crabbes. Draco was the only one who couldn’t wait for the party to end so he could go see his little sister. Being away at school had been torture for him. It was the first time he spent so much time away from Hera and he couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for her.
‘Don’t you think so, Draco?’, Pansy asked flirtingly.
‘Er… yes’, he said, completely oblivious of what conversation was he supposed to be having.
‘So you do think you look like a dying racoon?’, she asked folding her arms angrily. ‘You weren’t listening to me, were you?’
‘Sorry, Pansy… I’m just… distracted. That’s all.’
‘So, what do you think of Potter?’, she asked.
‘You know exactly what I think of him. He’s a nobody with a name, a show-off and an extremely lucky git. He should’ve fell off his broom during that Quidditch game to save us the trouble of baring with his existence’, he hissed.
Draco still hadn’t forgiven himself for being the one who helped Potter into the Quidditch team, making Slytherin lose the first match of the year. Pansy looked unsure if she should grin like an idiot for having a conversation with Draco or cry, because the only way she could get his attention was bringing stupid Potter up.
Once the meal was over and the guests left, Draco went up to his room and waited for his parents to go to theirs. He was lying awake in bed, listening to his parents’ steps going into the master bedroom, his mother’s giggles and his father’s whispers, followed by the door being locked magically. He knew far too well what would be going on in that bedroom in a matter of minutes; they never bothered to use a silencing charm on the door.
Before going all the way to the dungeons, Draco went into the library: his sanctuary. Right there, in the middle of the room, was Hera’s old crib, where she would lie down whenever he read to her. He had begged for his father to leave it there just for him to remember her and feel her presence when he was there. Draco walked towards it and looked down into it, resting his left arm over the wooden guardrail. The crib remained untouched, protected from insects, dust and humidity by several charms he had learnt. Untouched and empty, like his life had been most of the time he had been at Hogwarts. The only times he had felt anything at all had been pure hatred for Scarhead and maybe some satisfaction when Professor Snape rewarded him for his efforts in class.
He didn’t want to go back there. He didn’t want to live an empty life, pretending the only part of it that mattered had been dead for three years.
He entered the dungeons and lit his wand. The place was huge, since it was practically as large as the Manor, but the regular cells were all empty. He opened the door at the back that led to Hera’s chambers, and as soon as the bluish glow coming from the tip of his wand penetrated the mortal darkness, he could see her beautiful sleeping features resting over her pillow. He walked up to her small bed and kissed her cheek softly, not wanting to wake her up.
‘Daky…’, she whispered in her sleep, making his brother smile fondly.
‘Yes, Hera… Daky’s back…’
A/N: there\'s an image for this chapter at http://img95.echo.cx/img95/6219/thesecretofthemalfoyname3sn.jpg