An Indefinite Amount of Forever (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Advice

"You cannot possibly mean to do this to our family, Draco!"

The portrait of Lucius Malfoy was having a rather difficult day. Just this morning, that ridiculous house-elf with the frilly pillowcase decided to install some sort of contraption that rolls around the portrait hall eating dust. The damned thing made the most infernal noise and of course, was completely inadequate at dusting the portraits themselves. Then of course, his grandfather Marcus decided now was as good a time as any to take up opera, a hobby denied him when he was alive by the rigid rules of pureblood society. From the sound of it, Marcus had been better off taking up falconry instead. Now, to make matters worse, his son just informed him that he would be marrying that know-it-all Mudblood friend of Potter's. Death had never been so unfair.

Draco smirked as he stood before the portraits of his father and mother, arms folded in defiance. "Oh, I absolutely intend to go through with this. In fact, she's agreed to take my name."It might not have been strictly true, as she had yet to come to a decision, but Draco knew it was sure to get a rise out of his father.

As predicted, Lucius's nostrils flared violently. What he wouldn't give to hit that ungrateful little shit on the head with his cane.

Narcissa attempted to mediate between the two. "My dear boy, I think what your father means is, perhaps you're being a bit hasty in your decision."

Draco snorted. "Sweet of you to try and cover for him, Mother, but we both know that is not what he meant. And I find it interesting that you'd say I was being 'hasty' when I seem to remember you didn't raise this same objection when I married Astoria, even though we'd only been together a few months. Hermione and I have known each other since we were children and we've been together a year. Neither of you can pretend you didn't know this was coming. I love her and I will marry her."

"I forbid it!" Lucius barked.

Draco's smirk deepened. "You know, Father," he said as he stalked dangerously over to the portrait. "I'm pretty sure I don't take orders from you anymore."

Lucius glared at his son. "I never thought I'd live to see the day my son, my own flesh and blood, stomped on the graves of his ancestors by planting a Mudblood in this house as Lady of the Manor."

"Funny thing about that, Father," he said, with pure venom in his voice. "You didn't live to see it. Or have you forgotten that I am the master of this house now."

Draco always avoided coming in this room, largely because his father often didn't seem to remember that he was, in fact, dead. He'd still try to order the house-elves around, his voice rising when they'd ignore him. Even house-elves have enough dignity not to take orders from a portrait. Furthermore, Lucius attempted to micromanage his dealings with the company. Every time Draco decided to visit his parents, he'd storm out angry. Lucius would scream after him, and his mother would be left in hysterics. It simply wasn't worth it, so he avoided it as long as possible until he inevitably succumbed to a bout of guilt.

"Is this some sort of rebellion? Because if that's the case, you've already more than proven you're no longer under my thumb by your mere insistence to consort with the girl. I admit when you told your mother and I that you had begun a relationship with a Mudblood—"

"Muggle-born," Draco corrected.

Lucius's eyes flashed dangerously before continuing. "That when you told us you had begun a relationship with a Muggle-born, we were shocked."

Draco sneered, "Shocked? That's funny. You threatened to come back as a ghost and haunt me until the day I die."

Lucius haughtily shrugged. "I might admit that I employed a poor use of histrionics."