The Shattered Dragon

Chapter 6: Broken

"Looks like you've made quite a name for yourself as you do your best to ruin mine in the process."

Draco looked up from his place at the bar to see his father. Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eater and Voldemort Bootlicker whom he hadn't seen for more than five minutes in over a year. He looked far older than Draco remembered, the lines in his face much deeper, his eyes a bit dulled even though he was obviously angry.

"Father!" Draco cried dramatically, jumping up from his seat. "Come to peruse the merchandise? I'm sure there's a few innocents you could brutalize for an hour or two. And since you're my father I'll only charge you double."

Some other guests glanced over and Draco could see that Lucius was bordering on maniacal rage even as he tried to maintain composure, his ever-present even keel that most people found offputting.

"Yes, your...merchandise," Lucius said, running a finger over the bar and examining it for dirt. "I hear you have something here that actually belongs to me."

More people were staring and Draco knew the conversation wasn't going to go well. He nodded to the bartender and straightened the cuffs of his jacket, smiling icily at his father.

"Let's take this upstairs. I'm sure that neither of us are interested in causing a scene."

"So," Draco said, summoning two glasses and a decanter of firewhiskey to his desk while Lucius sat and stared. "How's mother?"

"Where is Miss Granger?" Lucius asked, unwilling to play his son's games.

"Straight to the point! Well well, I guess we won't be having that heartfelt reunion today," Draco said, draining a shot of the punishing liquor before leaning back in his chair. "Miss Granger is in her room I suspect, waiting to hear if she has a gentleman caller for the evening. You came at just the right time. Line up is in an hour."

"You had no right to interfere in my business, Draco. They tell me at the jail that you negotiated her release on my behalf, something I never would have agreed to but that you'd forged my signature on falsified documents. She robbed me blind while working my books and I intend to get restitution."

"Yes," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure of that. If there's a punishment to be doled out, you'll certainly find someone to take it."

"There are laws in place to deter these mudblood crimes and I intend to see justice meted out, Draco. Your petulant rebellion against your heritage means nothing."

The elder Malfoy was seething with anger, his silver eyes glinting like ice in the low light of Draco's suite and for a few moments his son was terrified, taken back twenty years to the night that his father caught him fiddling with potions unattended. It didn't matter that Draco was nearly thirty years old, his father would always have the ability to make him feel insignificant and off kilter, balancing precariously on the end of a broom. He poured himself another drink and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be afraid. He had the power; that's why his father was angry.

"I highly doubt you want to drag this out into the garish light of day, Lucius. What's done is done. A hundred thousand galleons is little more than a week of slave driving to you...is it really worth having your name associated with The Dragon? Having people talking about your estranged pimp son who denounced the Dark Bigot? The failure progeny who couldn't find success on either side of the battle? Do you think mother would approve?"

Draco raised an eyebrow of victory with the last sentence as he knew the answer as well as Lucius did. Narcissa's entire life was devoted to rebuilding her reputation in the world of wizard social climbing and the less scandal that occurred on that front the better. In fact, with Draco's snatching up of Hermione, the story of the mudblood stealing the pureblood fortune was quickly buried and none of Lucius' investors were the wiser. If he decided to kick up a fuss about Hermione's current line of work, Draco would make sure that every shit covered stone was turned over until the Malfoy name was ground into the dust.