The Plight- Malfoy x Reader

Train To Kings Cross

Lucius kept shifting his gaze to me. I could feel him watching me.

I'd asked him who killed my parents within the first five minutes of the train ride.

He'd become cross with me and told me "not to discuss such matters right now."

So when?

I'd thought my being initiated meant I'd get some some insider information. They were my parents, regardless if they didn't act like it, and I deserved to know.

I wanted to press him for answers but I'd resorted to staying quiet. Maybe he was waiting for us to get somewhere more secure before telling me. Potentially he was waiting to get to the manor—his home—to tell me. And maybe that's why we were heading there now.

So we'd passed the 3 hours in silence, with Lucius furrowing his brow at some work he'd procured out of some hidden, and most likely enchanted, pocket.

So while he'd resorted to writing on parchments with an enchanted quill, I looked out the window of the train.

Countryside passed us in a blur. The longer we traveled the more houses and villages began to pop up—and the more nervous I became.

I wondered why he hadn't just apparated us, not that I cared. I liked looking at the scenery.

"You still have the trace on you," he said as if reading my thoughts.

Oh yeah, he could read my thoughts.

I shut him out like he had done, putting up a barrier like a sheet of ice freezing over the screen where my thoughts lived. It had been the one thing my parents had bothered to teach me. But it was because it served their self interests, rather than my own.

He smirked slightly, knowing very well what'd I'd just done.

It was quite annoying—of all the questions that were running through my head the whole ride he decided to respond to the least important one.

"Does that matter?" I asked.

"I'm not a fan of anyone, never mind the ministry, tracking my whereabouts. Now that you hold the family name I expect you will conduct yourself with a similar... discreetness."

His tone let me know he wasn't asking.

Sounded shady.

I nodded, looking back out the window.

Something cold and sharp touched my cheek, guiding my head away from the window.

It was the serpent head of his cane, forcing me to look at him.

Our eyes locked and I frowned. He lifted his chin.

"I prefer verbal confirmations."

So he was a domineering nitpick.

It wasn't too surprising, given his speech on family expectations and rules, however convoluted it had been.

"Yes—sir."

He bristled at my response, "Lucius will do."

He pulled back his cane.

"When we get there we are going to go get you some clothes," he said looking me up and down, eyes lingering on my scuffed shoes.

I shifted my feet in discomfort.

"I have clothes. I don't need any."

His eyes looked back to me, "I disagree."

He held my stare as the implied meaning settled.

I turned red with embarrassment.

My clothes were not up to par in his opinion.