Birthright

Draco heard a soft knock on his door. He opened it looking down, expecting to see one of the house elves. Instead he found himself looking at Lucius’ chest. He lifted his head to meet his father’s downcast gaze.

“I’m sorry for my outburst, dragon,” Lucius murmured. He was still wearing the silk robe and his hair had been neglected. It was nearly dry now, and would be impossibly tangled.

“You’ve not been yourself lately, Father. I understand.” Draco stepped back and allowed Lucius into the room.

Lucius sat down heavily on his son’s bed and rolled onto his side, staring at Draco and curling halfway into a fetal position. Draco sat in the curve of his body, resting his side against Lucius’ hip. Lucius glanced up at him and then his gaze became distant.

“It was terrible, Draco. Even with the Dementors gone.” Lucius’ brow furrowed. “I wasn’t sure how long I could stay sane. But I suppose when they defeated Tom…I was no longer a threat.”

Draco stroked his father’s back gently. He was troubled. “You’re home now, though, Father.”co’sco’s voice sounded more certain than he really was.

Lucius shivered mightily and curled tighter. “For the first time since I was a little boy I was frightened.”

That admission seemed to cost him greatly, and he looked at Draco with uncertainty. Would the boy reject him? Draco leaned down to rest his head on Lucius’ shoulder. “I was afraid too, Father. I got no news at Hogwarts. You could have been dead for all I knew.”

Lucius sat up and put his arms around Draco. His son’s embrace was warm and comforting. After a moment, Draco pulled back and smiled.

“You look a mess, Father.”

“I feel it.” Lucius touched a snarled strand of hair and grimaced. “This is going to be a nightmare.”