Bound by Fate

Chapter 6: Confrontation

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its flames casting long, flickering shadows across the room. Draco stood near the window, staring out at the darkened grounds of Malfoy Manor. The night was silent, but his mind was anything but. Thoughts collided and twisted, filling his head with a storm of anger, guilt, and something he couldn't quite name. It was eating him alive, tearing at the fragile threads of control he had held onto for so long.

Lucius had crossed a line.

No, it wasn't just a line—it was a chasm. A chasm that Draco couldn't ignore anymore. Not after what he had seen. Not after what had been done to Hermione. He could still hear her sobs, still see the broken look in her eyes, still feel the weight of his father's sadistic cruelty hanging over them like a curse.

Lucius had always been a monster. Draco had known that for years, but he had never fully confronted the truth of it. He had been content to look the other way, to pretend that his father's actions were necessary for the greater good of their family, for their status, for the future Draco had been told he needed to embrace. But now, with Hermione upstairs, shattered and barely holding herself together, Draco couldn't look away anymore.

He couldn't ignore the rage that bubbled inside him. He couldn't ignore the urge to do something—anything—to stop his father. But what? What could he do without destroying himself in the process?

The study door creaked open, and Lucius strode in, his presence as commanding as ever. His robes were pristine, his silver-blond hair slicked back, and his expression calm. Too calm.

Draco's stomach twisted in revulsion. Lucius had done horrific things to Hermione, and now, he walked in like it was just another day. Like it didn't matter. Like she didn't matter.

"Draco," Lucius greeted smoothly, his voice as silky as ever. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

Draco didn't respond right away. He couldn't. The words were stuck in his throat, tangled in the anger and confusion that had been building inside him for hours. He clenched his jaw, trying to force down the rage, trying to control the urge to lash out.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, studying his son's face with mild curiosity. "Is something bothering you?" he asked, his voice laced with condescension. "You look... troubled."

Draco's hands balled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He could feel the fire burning inside him, hotter and hotter with every passing second. He had to say something. He couldn't let this go.

"You didn't have to do that," Draco finally muttered, his voice tight, barely contained.

Lucius paused, then turned fully to face Draco, his expression curious. "Do what?"

"Hermione," Draco snapped, unable to keep the venom out of his voice. "What you did to her—it was unnecessary."

Lucius's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, and then a slow smile spread across his face, as if Draco's words were nothing more than an amusing joke. "Ah, yes. The Mudblood." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Unnecessary? Draco, you're still so naïve. She's an enemy, a traitor to everything we stand for. She needed to be broken. It's what she deserved."

Draco's entire body tensed, his pulse pounding in his ears. "She didn't deserve that," he hissed. "No one does."

Lucius's smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. "You're speaking dangerously, Draco," he warned, his tone cold. "Remember who you are. Remember what is expected of you."

"I know exactly who I am," Draco shot back, taking a step toward his father. His heart was racing, and he could feel the blood rushing to his head, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to back down. Not this time.

"You've gone too far," Draco continued, his voice rising. "You treat her like she's nothing, but she's not just some toy for you to—" He stopped himself, bile rising in his throat. He couldn't even say the words.

Lucius's expression darkened, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "Watch your tone," he said softly. "You forget your place, Draco. She's a Mudblood. She's nothing."

"She's a human being!" Draco snapped, his anger boiling over. "And what you did to her—it was sick. It was monstrous."

Lucius stared at Draco for a long moment, his lips curling into a sneer. "You've become weak," he said quietly, his voice dripping with contempt. "I thought I raised you better than this. But it seems I've failed."

Draco's hands were shaking now, his entire body trembling with fury. "You didn't fail," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You've done exactly what you wanted. You've turned me into someone I don't even recognize."

Lucius took a step closer, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "Then perhaps it's time you learned what it means to truly be a Malfoy."

Draco's heart pounded in his chest, but he didn't back down. He held his father's gaze, his mind racing. He knew there was no point in arguing. Lucius wouldn't change. He was too far gone, too consumed by his own hatred and thirst for power. But Draco wasn't going to stand by any longer. Not after what he had seen.

Lucius turned away from Draco, moving toward the fireplace, his back to his son. "This isn't about her, Draco," he said, his tone almost bored. "This is about power. Control. You'll understand that one day, when you're standing where I am."

Draco's jaw clenched, his hands still trembling. He knew what his father was saying—he had heard it all before. Power was everything to Lucius. It was all he cared about. But Draco couldn't let that be his future. He wouldn't let it be.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Draco muttered under his breath.

Lucius didn't hear him—or if he did, he didn't care. He stood with his back to Draco, gazing into the fire with a self-satisfied expression on his face. He was always so sure of himself. Always so certain that he was untouchable.

But Draco wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure if Lucius deserved to be untouchable.

The thought slithered into Draco's mind, cold and dark, wrapping itself around him like a serpent. It was dangerous, treasonous, but it wouldn't go away. It burrowed deep into his consciousness, whispering, tempting him with a solution. The only solution.

Lucius couldn't be reasoned with. He couldn't be stopped by words. But there was another way.

Draco's breath caught in his throat as the realization took hold. There was another way to stop his father. To end his cruelty, his madness, once and for all.

Draco could kill him.

The thought was terrifying, thrilling, and utterly consuming. Draco clenched his fists, his mind racing. He could do it. He could poison Lucius—make it look like an accident, or at least something no one could trace back to him. It would be easy. He had access to all the potions, all the means. His father would never see it coming.

But the thought made Draco sick. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't like Lucius.

Was he?

Draco stared at his father's back, his heart pounding. He could do it. He could end this. He could save Hermione, save himself, save them all from Lucius's reign of terror.

But could he live with it?

Draco swallowed hard, his throat dry. The decision loomed before him, a dark and terrible thing. It wasn't a decision he could make lightly, but it was a decision he knew he had to make. If he didn't, Lucius would never stop. He would continue to hurt, to destroy, and Draco would always be trapped in his shadow.

Draco's gaze hardened. He couldn't let that happen. Not anymore.

Lucius turned slightly, glancing back at Draco with a smirk. "Go to bed, Draco. We'll discuss this in the morning."

Draco nodded stiffly, his mind already spinning with possibilities. He turned and left the room without another word, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know when, he didn't know how, but one thing was clear.

Lucius Malfoy's time was running out.