Bound by Fate

Chapter 15: The Weight of Legacy

Draco sat at his father's old desk, the dark wood gleaming in the dim light of the study. The room was suffocating, filled with the ghosts of his family's past. The air smelled of old parchment and the faint trace of cigar smoke that had always clung to Lucius's robes. Now, it was his. Everything was his—whether he wanted it or not.

He stared at the piles of documents spread across the desk: financial reports, letters from pureblood families, ministry inquiries, and a long list of estate obligations. The enormity of the task before him felt like a mountain, and Draco, for all his cold composure, wasn't sure if he was ready to climb it.

Lucius's death had not only marked the end of a man; it had shifted the entire weight of the Malfoy legacy onto Draco's shoulders. And the legacy, as dark and twisted as it was, was not so easily managed.

The Estate and Financial Burdens

The first order of business had been financial. The Malfoy fortune had always been vast—investments in Gringotts, private holdings, and businesses across the wizarding world. But since the fall of Voldemort, those businesses had become tainted by their association with Lucius and the Death Eaters. Clients had pulled out, investments were scrutinized, and the Ministry was watching closely for any sign of impropriety.

Draco rubbed his temples as he read through the latest report from Gringotts. Several accounts had been frozen, pending investigation by the Ministry of Magic. Lucius had hidden his wealth well, but Draco was quickly realizing that even the Malfoy name had its limits. The Ministry wanted to bring the family down, and they would stop at nothing to uncover any illegal dealings.

He sighed, pushing the report aside. This was just the beginning. Beyond the financial strain, the manor itself needed attention. Malfoy Manor was more than just a home; it was a fortress, a symbol of the family's power. The upkeep was extensive—landscaping, repairs, and ensuring that the wards protecting the estate were impenetrable. With Lucius gone, those responsibilities now rested with Draco.

And then there were the darker secrets hidden within the manor's walls. Cursed objects, artifacts from Voldemort's reign, and items Lucius had collected over the years. Draco couldn't risk the Ministry finding any of it. But destroying them would be dangerous, and keeping them was even riskier.

Pureblood Allies and Their Expectations

Draco leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the letters from old pureblood families. They had come flooding in after Lucius's death—some with condolences, others with thinly veiled questions about the Malfoy family's future. These were families like the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Carrows. Families who had, at one point or another, aligned themselves with the Dark Lord.

The letters from the Carrows had been particularly pointed. Alecto Carrow's neat, elegant handwriting was laced with an almost threatening tone, asking if the Malfoys were still willing to "support the cause." The cause, of course, being the remnants of Voldemort's ideology. Draco's stomach had churned as he read it. His father's death had left a power vacuum, and now the old Death Eater families wanted to know where the Malfoys stood.

Would they continue to support the pureblood supremacy that had driven so much destruction? Or would Draco steer the family in a different direction?

He wasn't sure yet.

The pressure from the pureblood families was immense. The Nott family had written to express their sympathy, but the underlying message was clear: the Malfoys had a role to play in the future of the pureblood community, and Draco needed to step into that role. The Greengrasses had been more subtle, their message wrapped in condolences but laced with the same expectations. Daphne Greengrass had even hinted at a possible alliance—likely through marriage. Draco had crumpled that letter in frustration. It was too soon for all of this.

But the reality was unavoidable. These families needed reassurance that the Malfoys were still in power, still influential. They didn't care about Draco's personal struggles or the weight he now carried. All they wanted was security—security that their place in the wizarding world would remain untouched, their superiority preserved.

And then there was the letter from Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. His words were more direct than any of the others: "Lucius is gone. The Dark Lord's work is not done. Don't forget your place."

Draco's fingers tightened around the parchment, his jaw clenched as he reread the letter. Rodolphus was dangerous, and though the Lestranges had fallen out of prominence, they still held a certain sway among the dark pureblood families. Draco knew he couldn't afford to alienate them outright—not yet. But he wasn't his father, and he wasn't about to let Rodolphus or anyone else dictate the future of the Malfoy name.

Legal Troubles and Ministry Scrutiny

Then there were the inquiries from the Ministry. Since Lucius's death, the Ministry had ramped up its scrutiny of the Malfoy family. There were whispers that his death had been too convenient, too sudden. Draco knew it was only a matter of time before they began digging deeper.

The Malfoys had always had influence in the Wizengamot, but that influence had waned since the fall of Voldemort. Now, Draco was left to navigate the tangled web of politics and power, trying to protect the family from further ruin. He would have to attend hearings, answer questions about the family's involvement in Voldemort's regime, and try to salvage what little reputation they had left.

A letter from the Ministry lay unopened on his desk, its seal bearing the mark of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco hadn't yet found the courage to open it. He knew what it would say—another request for information, another threat of investigation. The Ministry wanted to bring the Malfoys down, and Draco was determined not to let that happen.

But he was also tired. Tired of the expectations, tired of the pressure, tired of carrying the weight of his father's sins.

The Emotional Toll

Draco ran a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting to the window. The sky outside was overcast, casting the grounds of the manor in a dull, gray light. He hadn't left the estate in days. Narcissa had retreated into herself since Lucius's death, her grief quiet and restrained, but Draco knew she felt the same weight he did. She had been the pillar of the family for so long, and now, without Lucius, that burden had fallen to Draco.

He thought of Hermione—how broken she had been, how much she had suffered because of his family. Her recovery was slow, but she was regaining her strength, bit by bit. Draco had tried to keep his distance, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The pain she carried, the trauma she had endured, all because of his father.

It made him sick.

He had killed Lucius to protect her, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough.

Draco rose from the desk, pacing the study as his mind raced. Every decision he made now felt like a tightrope walk—one misstep, and everything could come crashing down. The pureblood families, the Ministry, the legacy of his father—they were all waiting for him to either rise to the occasion or fail spectacularly.

But Draco wasn't sure which path he was on.

For now, all he could do was keep moving forward, one step at a time.