The Plight- Malfoy x Reader

Its Too Late

Otto POV

"You wanted to see me?"

My father turned to me from where he'd been starring out the window of his study, his hands behind his back.

His expression of displeasure deepened as he looked at me.

The day behind him was beginning to turn—the sun was making its way down, leaving behind pinks and blues and purples.

The colors didn't match the deep, dark colors in his office—Nor the mood.

His own silhouette was too stark in contrast against it.

"Obviously—After the comments you dished out at the restaurant."

I stayed tight lipped until my father gave me the expression that told me he was expecting an explanation.

"I never wanted to come—nor bring Samantha there—but you insisted—" I began to say accusatorially.

"That is not an excuse," he scoffed, then walked over to his desk chair, "Why is it that you are have such a hard time restraining yourself when it comes to what you say to her?"

I huffed, anger flickering inside me, but I didn't answer.

I looked to the wall where a moving photo of my Hogwarts quidditch team hung.

"Well?"

My eyes slid back to his.

"Speak freely son," he said— a sentence that had the potential to be warm had he not used a threatening tone.

He sat in his chair, leaning back with an air of relaxation.

Speaking freely had never been something he wanted me to do. Following his rules was all he had ever cared about. He was cold and rigid and strict.

At least he had been till more recently...

I tried to restrain my anger.

"I do all you ask of me—" I said with bitterness, "Every ridiculous request. I hold my tongue in most matters.... What more would you like from me, father? Would you like me to pretend? To plaster a smile on my face while we all play house? Is that what it would take for you to finally be satisfied with me?"

"I—" he stopped and took a breath, then responded regretfully as he interlaced his finger, "Gods— I know I haven't made things easy on you, Otto. But I really don't understand why this one request I have of you has been so difficult. That you are adamant on being cold to her—"

"You don't understand?" I spat in disbelief, "I've done all you've ever wanted and more—for all of us. For Draco, for you and now..." I scoffed, shaking my head, "Now you add another responsibility—"

"I have never expected her to be your responsibility—"

"—Shall I leave it to you then?!" I asked with outrage, "And then what?  She'll be lucky to make it to 18 without becoming a death eater."

It was a low blow—I knew that.

"How dare you say such a thing to me!" He shot back as he stood up, defending himself.

His eyes became glossy as he said, "Everything I've done was to try to protect you all! That is all I've ever—"

"And you've done a grand, old job of it father," I said sarcastically, "Do you really think you've protected me from anything? You're delusional."

He went silent., pain entering all his features as he looked to my arm.

"I- ...I tried to do my best, son. It wasn't good enough, I know that... Not for you—"

"And now," my voice broke, "finally you want to try something different—Try to be better. But not for me—Not for Draco—But for her. Were we just not worth it? Not enough for you to try to change?"

I was saying to much, but it was spilling out of me.

The jealousy. The resentment. The heaviness.

"No thats—" he began, then paused as understanding swept over his features, "I see now... It's not her you're angry with. It's me."

My throat constricted.

"I'm... I'm so sorry Otto," he said as he tried to approach me.

I stepped back, regaining my composure as I felt the coldness set in my expression.

I didn't want him to touch me. Didn't want his warmth, his affection.

Not after all this time.

He didn't try to approach again.

Instead he stood there looking helpless, unsure of what to do next.

"Can't we... can't we try to mend things now? Can't you give me another chance to do better?" He asked.

"No," I said, "Not now. It's too late."