𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓

Chapter 1

Rating: It's not now, but it'll be M, eventually.
Warnings: Slash. Profanity. OOC-ness. Future drug use.
Summary: Non-magic AU. Narcissa Malfoy knows her son. She knows that something needs to be done before he withdraws completely into himself, but when she interferes, she changes not only her sons, but another boys life as well... HPDM slash.

Mother Knows Best

Chapter One

Picture Perfect

Flying over the railing of a beautiful white balcony, a small, black butterfly landed on the filtered end of a lit cigarette that was resting in a crystal ashtray. In the background, the sky was a light shade of blue, littered with ciro-cumulus clouds, blocking out most of the suns bright rays that usually frequented this time of year. The scene made a slightly ironic picture, looked as if it represented something. The butterfly, signifying death with its black color, landing upon a coffin nail, as some would call it. It made a statement.

Click. Beep.

A camera flashes, quickly capturing the image before the butterfly decides to take off, the cigarette looking banal with its departure, but leaving a memory behind in the picture. A picture taken by something far more beautiful than the picture itself.

He was clothed in a long sleeved, white collared shirt, under a black, silver buttoned vest and matching black pants. Long, shiny, shampoo commercial-worthy white-blond hair framed his unblemished, porcelain-like face, falling just above his narrow chin, constantly being pushed behind his ears. Impossibly high cheekbones and gorgeous gray-blue, almost effeminate eyes made his features seem more delicate, elegant as all of his surroundings. His long, slender hand brought the cigarette up to full, nearly red lips, lazily inhaling the harmful mentholated smoke before bringing it back down to put out in the ashtray, only halfway finished and just in time.

A knock at his bedroom door causes him to stand, out of the somewhat uncomfortable painted steel chair. Walking through the sliding glass doors, he entered his imaculate bedroom, closing the doors, flipping the lock over, and pulling the thick white curtains closed behind him.

"Yes?" he calls, expecting his mother.

Instead, an elderly Malfoy household butler opened the door halfway, informing him that his mother was on her way up. In other words, the man was making sure he didn't get caught smoking the cigarettes that he had blackmailed the man into getting for him. Not that he smoked often, only on stressful occasions, which he was sure today would most definitely be.

He dismissed the old man with a flick of his wrist and flopped down on the small sofa by his door with little to no grace at all, one arm lazily resting atop the backrest, awaiting his mother. Sure enough, a couple minutes later she walked in, not bothering to knock, closing the door behind her.

"Are you sure that every things been packed, darling?" she questioned, surveying his clothes, making sure they weren't wrinkled. When answered with an affirmative, her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Have you checked?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head. "I told them what goes and what doesn't, Mother." She nodded, sitting down beside him, crossing her ankles and flipping her long hair over her shoulder like she was Miss America.

Many people have said that Draco is the spitting image of his father, Lucius, but those people have obviously never met his mother. Of course, he did inherit a portion of his fathers regal looks, but he leaned more toward his mothers side of the gene pool with the same petite body structure and stunningly beautiful facial features. His parents looked a lot alike, though, so it was hard to tell who he favored more.