Chapter 13

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I own nothing! J.K.Rowling owns everything!

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Draco clutched the closest thing to him the moment he arrived back at Malfoy Manor, which happened to be his father's head.

"Draco, do you want to explain to me why you're crushing my skull?" Lucius Malfoy asked, a hint of annoyance seeping through his voice. He didn't move his head, just kept on staring at the book he had open on his lap, one hand holding the pages open as the other held a glass of fire-whiskey.

"Ah!" Draco fell backwards in surprise and landed on his bum, again. "Sorry Father, I didn't see you there."

"Obviously." Lucius replied briskly. He turned back to his book.

Draco shot up and wiped himself down, making sure no dust or dirt had got on his clothes. "If you'll excuse me, I have... something to do." Draco slinked towards the door. Lucius paid his son no more attention, which Draco took as a dismissal and quickly limped out of the room. Once he was away from prying eyes, he twisted himself around and rubbed his bum. "Why is it always my bum? Why can't I fall on my feet or something? Heck, scratch that, why do I have to fall full stop?" He muttered to himself.

"Draco dear, what are you doing?" Draco's head shot up to see his mother walk towards him.

"Hello Mother." He smiled at her. "I fell down, and it hurts. Nothing to be concerned about, just a pain in the arse and a real fuc-."

"Language!" Narcissa Malfoy scolded. "If your father heard he-"

"He'd laugh with me, Mother. He's changed. He may be taking his sweet time changing certain things about himself, but he has changed, especially with regards to crude humour."

"Well, I don't think that it is appropriate language for someone like you." Narcissa looked at her son, slightly exasperated. "You need to get a job! You need to put yourself back out there! You need to find a wife!... And give me grandchildren. But you're not going to accomplish any of that if you use that kind of language." Narcissa crossed her arms.

"Actually, I think the reason for all that may have to do with me being an Ex-Death Eater." Draco countered, his arms also crossed.

"Nonsense! Pansy and Astoria are head over heels for you."

"Then I'm sure they won't mind my language. They put up with much worse at school."

"It is still not polite to hear in that type of society, Draco." Narcissa frowned. "We still have to work hard at earning people's forgiveness. We need to put on a good show." She put a hand on his shoulder before entering his father's study.

Draco looked at his mother as she closed the door to the study, and then walked up to his room. He shut the door and locked it, then cast a silencing charm on the room.

He waited a second and then let it loose. "Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." He pulled on his hair. "What have I gotten myself into?" He exclaimed to himself. "I'm a dead man. There is no way this won't end badly." He started pacing the room, repeating curse words and, every so often, punching or kicking something. He stopped abruptly. "I've got to stop her. It'll just end in more pain and suffering for everyone... And despite what she thinks, it will probably lead to a war. People seem incapable of staying out of other people's business." He groaned and fell back onto his bed. "And now I'm talking to myself. Great! I've lost my marbles!" He sighed and sat back up, rubbing his face. "But she has got to be stopped, she needs help to find her way back to the light. Who better for the task than an Ex-Death Eater? I can help her by helping her, by joining her." He paused. "FML. I sound like a bloody Gryffindor." He slumped back down to the bed.

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