theiceroyals | Fic: A Pleasant Day

Title: A Pleasant Day
Author:

themightyflynn
Word count: 1982
Rating: G
Summary: Lucius and Narcissa are in for a shock when they discover Draco coming home early one morning.
Warning: Contains assumed homophobia and some homophobic insults.
Notes: Written for the

theiceroyals July monthly prompt: "Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip."
Hopefully it'll be easy enough to tell which line relates to the prompt. :)
Follows: Part 1|Part 2

August 21, 1998

Narcissa woke alone. Stretching her arm out, she felt the sheets beside her, testing to see whether Lucius had left their bed recently. When her fingers encountered nothing but the cool sheets, she frowned. Lucius was not one to rise early if he could help it and, judging by the angle of the sun as it filtered in through the small crack in the curtains surrounding the bed, it must have been close to dawn. Sighing, she shoved the covers back and rose from the bed.

“Narcissa?”

The doors to the balcony of their suite were wide open, emitting a soft breeze. The filmy curtains flapped silently, causing Lucius’ silhouette to appear fuzzy as Narcissa made her way slowly towards him. She shivered a little in the cool breeze, her flimsy nightdress not offering much in the way of protection from the elements.

“Lucius, what–”

“Shh,” he responded, his finger to his lips. “Here.”

A small smile touched Narcissa’s lips as he reached to envelop her in his arms. The warmth that flooded through her had her closing her eyes, just enjoying the sensation of being with her husband for a few seconds.

“Why are you out here, love?”

Lucius did not respond immediately. Instead, his fingers traced tiny patterns on the skin of her arms as he adjusted his stance behind her. When he did respond, his voice was quiet, almost as though he believed someone to be listening in.

“I believe that Draco is not coming home of a night very often.”

Narcissa almost sighed. Coming so soon after the argument the two of them had had the previous day, this reaction was unsurprising.

“Lucius–”

He must have been able to hear the reluctance in her voice, as she felt him bristle behind her. “You do not believe me?”

Tracing her fingers along the back of the hand he held over her ribcage, she smiled with a touch of sadness. “It’s not that I do not believe you, just…” She sighed. “Do you not think that perhaps this suspicion you have of Draco could be stemming from the current state of your relationship with him?”

“It has,” he allowed. “However, has it not occurred to you that the current state of my relationship with Draco could be being caused by the fact that he is clearly hiding something from us? If he is not spending his nights at the Manor, then where is he going? Who is he with? What are they doing together? Do you not believe that our family has been through enough scandals of late?”

“‘Clearly hiding something’, Lucius? I have not noticed anything that would indicate that our son is hiding anything from me. He is at the breakfast table with the two of us every single morning, sometimes looking as though he has only just woken.” The loss of his arms around her as he stepped back was enough to cause Narcissa to shiver. “Lucius?”

“Hush.”

Turning, Narcissa frowned when she saw Lucius moving around her with a determined look in his eyes. “Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you will not hush me like some naughty child,” she began, but was silenced again when he held a hand up to her. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”

Standing as close to the railing as he could get, Lucius was frowning down at the gardens. It was impossible to tell exactly what he was looking at, so Narcissa did not try to guess.

“Lucius?”

“Come.” He held a hand out to her, the fingers curling inwards in a gesture that clearly beckoned her forward. “Come and see for yourself whether I am right or wrong about Draco.”

Confusion rolled through her, but she stepped forward anyway. What she saw when she reached the railing beside him had her leaning forward in an effort to get a better look at the grounds.

In the early morning light, it was difficult to make out any solid shapes. The rising sun cast shadows over much of the garden, distorting the topiaries’ shadows into hideous creatures. It seemed, however, that Lucius was directing her attention towards the ironwork gates that enclosed the Manor. With high hedges on either side of the gates, the gloom there was even more impenetrable than in the rest of the grounds, but it seemed Lucius was right: there was something there. It seemed as though the shadows themselves shifted for a few seconds before Narcissa was able to make out the unmistakable Malfoy blond hair glinting in the dull light.

“Is that…?”

“Draco? Yes, I believe it is.”

Narcissa glanced over to where Lucius stood next to her, his eyes fixed on the vague, blurry figure outside the gates. He was watching with such an intensity that Narcissa shivered.

“Lucius?”

“He has been lying to us, Narcissa.”

“I…” Reluctance to admit to the possibility that she had been being fooled by her own son flooded through her veins. “There must be an explanation. Draco has no reason to lie to us.”

The look he shot her in response was disbelieving. “As the past few years have so amply proven, our son is capable of much more than we first were willing to acknowledge.”

With that, he turned back to the gardens, watching the figure intently. Unable to deny his words, Narcissa followed suit, turning to squint down at the barely-visible figure outside the gates.

It was a few minutes before anything happened beyond vague stirrings of the shadows and the occasional glimpse of Draco’s hair. The sun had shifted to an angle that gave off just enough light that it was possible to make out the shape of a pale hand pressed against to what Narcissa could only assume was the waist of the figure that she knew was Draco. A small gasp escaped her lips as the hand slid lower on her son’s body in an unmistakably possessive gesture even from this distance. Draco stepped back then, into the one spot of full light in front of the gates. It was impossible to tell who the second figure was, but it was clear that whoever they were, there was something more than friendship between them and her son.

“Get dressed.”

Lucius’ voice startled her out of her shock. “Lucius?” By the time she turned to face him, he was nearly back into the house. “What are you doing?”

“My son has been lying to me, Narcissa. I am going to have a word with him about his deceit. If you wish to join us, I believe you should dress yourself.”

Narcissa’s eyes flicked back to where Draco was now making his way slowly down the driveway of the Manor. A combination of panic and fear numbed her hands as she watched. It didn’t hold her for long, however, as the knowledge that Draco was about to walk into the house and be confronted by his angry father kicked her into motion. She dressed as quickly as possible, throwing clothing on almost at random, before stepping out and making her way down through the Manor. It couldn’t have taken her much longer than five minutes to dress herself properly, but the sounds of angry voices were beginning to reach her already as she neared the first level, near the grand marble staircase.

“…I will not allow this kind of behaviour from the future head of the Malfoy family, Draco! You simply cannot be getting around with any number of amoral floozies!”

Draco’s responding laugh was harsh. “‘Amoral floozies’, Father? Is that what you think of me? That I am willing to degrade myself by sleeping with anyone who will have me?”

“This is not how the head of a household behaves, Draco. You must–”

“Oh, I must now, do I? Must what, Father? Must give up any hope of leading a normal life? Must never have any kind of human contact unless I am related to them? Must accept the fact that your actions have destroyed any hope I ever had of gaining meaningful employment, or having a socially acceptable relationship?”

Narcissa could hear the edge of hysteria tinting Draco’s voice. It echoed through the Manor easily enough that she was sure that the House-elves would be gossiping of this moment for months. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped out onto the landing. Draco was standing on the first step of the staircase, one hand clenched tightly enough on the bannister that his knuckles were white. Lucius stood below him in the foyer, poised and seemingly confident as ever. Narcissa sighed.

“What you must, Draco, is realise that there are certain standards of behaviour that are required of you, especially after the result of the war.”

“I–”

“You will not be allowed to choose any money-grabbing whore who will bankrupt the family, Draco. Your choice of wife must be correct; she must be of the right breeding.”

To Narcissa’s – and, apparently, Lucius’ – surprise, Draco’s only response was near-hysterical laughter. He doubled over, one arm wrapped around his middle as he gasped for breath. Narcissa took the opportunity to descend the staircase, watching her son carefully as she did. When Draco finally managed to get a hold of himself, tears were running down his cheeks.

“Wife,” he gasped. “Wife? Oh, Father, you are so out of touch with everything around you that I really should not be surprised that you were unaware of my preferences.”

“Your preferences?”

Narcissa was clearly faster to grasp what Draco was admitting to than Lucius. She placed a hand softly on Lucius’ arm.

“Draco?”

“Good morning, Mother!” He turned a bright smile on her, his eyes shining with what appeared to be a combination of mirth and unshed tears. “I apologise that you had to find out this way, but I assume it is better that you know early on before trying to wed me to whichever suitably eligible girl came calling first. Not that I think that that was ever going to happen.”

“Your preferences?” It seemed Lucius had finally caught up with the conversation, if the tightness of his lips was anything to go on. “You are…”

“Gay? Yes, Father, I am. Allow me to save you the trouble of attempting to insult me: your son is a faggot, a shirt-lifter, a poofter, a pansy – although I highly doubt the real Pansy would approve of me using her name as an insult – a flaming homosexual!” He stepped off the staircase so he could meet Lucius’ gaze equally, mere centimetres apart. “And I love it.”

Narcissa’s mind went completely blank as she stared at the two of them. It could have been seconds or hours before Lucius opened his mouth to respond; she had no way of telling.

“You–”

“Store it, Father,” Draco interrupted once again. “I have absolutely no use for your insults. Allow me, however, to bid you farewell for the day. I will not be back for dinner, so there is no reason to wait up.”

Narcissa’s brain kicked back into life as Draco began backing up the staircase. “Draco, I–”

He shook his head ruefully. “All I seem to do these days in relation to you, Mother, is apologise. I’m afraid I must again. I refuse to stay around and be abused for any reason, even if I did provoke it in the first place.”

“No, Draco, please–” She reached for him, but he kept moving, regret etched clearly on his face.

“And Father?” Narcissa turned just in time to see Lucius’ eyes focus on Draco, a look of confusion clear in them. “I wish you a day as pleasant as you have always been.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened as the perfectly-phrased insult caused Lucius to let out a slightly strangled sound. By the time she turned back to the stairs, Draco had disappeared.