This Bitter Earth

THREE

A big thank you to finemakemeyourvillian for working as beta on this chapter!

Soundtrack- "Black Dahlia" by Hollywood Undead and "Minefields" by Faouzia and John Legend

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THREE

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Draco had been to the Ministry dozens of times with his Father, but he had never seen it quite like this. The entire Atrium was empty. Curtains were closed over every office window. Hardly any of the floo fires were lit, and there was a gaping hole in the middle of the room where the fountain and surrounding statues had once sat.

On the far end a member of Magical Law Enforcement was guiding a frail old man who was mumbling incoherently, but Draco thought he picked out the phrases, "Where are you taking me?" and "Please let me go home".

Draco took heavy steps across the dark wood, letting the echo of his boots drown out the old man's voice.

He did not want to linger and look around, not that there was much to see anyways. Lucius was already winded once they reached the lifts and Draco saw his hand shake as he reached up and pressed the button with the silver snake head of his walking stick. After the Dark Lord had taken Lucius' wand, Narcissa had done her best to repair it for use again. But it was no longer a weapon, only a crutch now.

Draco didn't wait for his Father when the doors slid open and took a long, heavy step inside the lift.

"Level one. The Minister's office." Lucius' voice was raspy and low. He cleared his throat loudly and smoothed out his coat with a thin hand, making sure his sleeve was pulled down far enough to cover the tattoos on his forearm.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I know where the Minister's office is."

Lucius' eyes cut to Draco's outstretched hand and the Malfoy signet ring on his finger as Draco lifted it to mash in one of the buttons on the panel.

Draco stuck it back in his pocket and gripped the handle of his wand.

The doors opened and Lucius stuck his cane out, blocking Draco from exiting first. "Traditions must be respected, Draco," Lucius muttered as he moved past his son.

Draco let his face fall into its practiced position of indifference. "I'll be sure to remember that at your funeral."

Lucius stopped and spun around so quickly that Draco almost ran into him. Before his Father had been taken to Azkaban, Draco had been just about the same height as him. He had hit growth spurts several times in his life, shooting up inches overnight and over the past year, Draco had hit another. Lucius now had to tilt his chin up to look into his son's eyes.

His Father's eyes were a paler shade of grey than his own and Draco was reminded of the dead, grey glaze of Ghostie's gaze, but he did not flinch. He stared back down, unblinking.

Lucius sucked his teeth and curled his lip; his scowl fell into the creases that now lined his face. And just because he could, Draco smiled.

"Don't worry Father. I'll make sure you get all the honors you deserve."

Lucius looked livid and just for a moment, Draco saw the glimmer of the man who had raised him return. Then he narrowed his pale eyes and turned stiffly, walking out of the lift and into the reception area of the Minister's office leaving Draco to follow in his footsteps.

Draco wasn't surprised to see people here. Witches and wizards buzzed around, summoning files from cabinets that burst into quick flickers of flame before the ash fell down on the discarded desks. It was a purge, a cleansing. A return to purity.