Fic: Cradle of Lies
Aug. 26th, 2010 04:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dexstarrTitle: Cradle of Lies
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dexstarr
Word Count: 749
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
deatheaterdrabs Round 6: Draco Malfoy; Lies are essential to humanity. They are perhaps as important as the pursuit of pleasure and moreover are dictated by that pursuit. -- Proust
Summary: A lifetime of lies.
Warnings: Mention of underage oral.
Author's notes: Thanks to my friend Jay who put up with reading this a few times for me (not on LJ). And oh man, longer drabbles are fun!
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR, and are not mine.
***
“Father, why do you smell different?”
Seven-year-old Draco is sitting next to his father in a leather armchair. Lucius is reading The Daily Prophet and his son is looking at the moving pictures; this close to his father, Draco can smell an unfamiliar scent clinging to his father’s hair. It is not his mother’s orchid and French vanilla perfume, which fills his nose every time she hugs him and tucks him into bed, but something foreign and exotic.
As young as he is, Draco can sense his father isn’t being honest with him when Lucius says, “I had lunch with an old school friend.” Lucius’s eyes darken almost imperceptibly, but Draco, who has made a study of examining his father’s expressions so he can imitate them, notices, and wonders why he hasn’t ever noticed before.
While he is curious, about the scent and the ‘school friend,’ Draco doesn’t ask his mother. He knows it would hurt her, and he never wants to do that. So he keeps his silence, and vows to never have long hair.
***
“I’m going out, Narcissa,” Lucius says as he sweeps into the library where his wife and son are reading by the fire.
Draco looks up from his book, and sees that his father is wearing black dress robes and has his blond hair fastened with a ribbon. He wonders if his father is going to see another ‘school friend.’
“Will you be out late?” At her husband’s nod, Narcissa says, “I won’t wait up, then. Have a good time, love.” Lucius kisses his wife, tells his son to behave, and leaves.
Draco is old enough to read between the lines, and realizes that his mother knows of his father’s infidelity. The knowledge doesn’t bother him so much as her easy acceptance does, and this time he can’t keep silent.
“Mother?” He bites his lip when his voice trembles; at nine, he knows better than to let his emotions show.
“Yes, Draco?” Narcissa looks at him, and his distress must be plain on his face, for she opens her arms. “Come here.” Draco hurtles across the room, jumping onto his mother’s lap, looking for comfort in a way he hasn’t since losing his childhood innocence two years ago.
“Why, Mother?”
Narcissa hugs her son tightly, and her familiar fragrance reminds him of the first lie he heard from a parent. “Oh, my little dragon.” She kisses his forehead. “Some day you’ll learn lies are essential for a happy marriage.”
***
Draco is fourteen when he becomes conscious of the fact that Pansy Parkinson is attractive, or rather, the best looking of all Slytherin girls. He takes her to the Yule Ball, and afterwards she shows her appreciation in the fairy grotto.
Over the next few years they take advantage of dark broom closets and empty classrooms. She’s talented, and he promises her the world while her mouth is on his cock. Pansy wants to be a Malfoy, and Draco plies her with lies, practicing the lessons of his childhood. He will never marry a whore like her.
***
By sixteen, Draco is well versed in the art of lying. He knows the value of an expertly told falsehood, and how to keep all telltale signs from his face and body, and most importantly, from his eyes. Draco can still remember catching his father’s eyes darken when mentioning the ‘school friend.’ No such clues will ever give him away.
Draco knows his sixth year at Hogwarts will be difficult. He must carry out the Dark Lord’s orders while pretending school lessons and sports are his only concerns. The thought is almost laughable; he knows N.E.W.T.s and Quidditch Cups won’t matter when the Dark Order is achieved – only blood purity will, and who was obedient and faithful.
The Malfoy castle of lies has led to him being chosen above all others in the Dark Lord’s employ. Draco is proud that his family has woven such a web of untruths; created such layers of lies that they can live as they please, following their pure-blood philosophy. While Ministry officials bow and scrape to his father, carrying out Lucius’s wishes with the aid of coin and silky words, his family praises the Dark Lord’s name and furthers his cause at sinister soirées.
But as he strokes his fresh Dark Mark, he can’t squash the faint worry in his belly. Aunt Bellatrix had lied, had said the branding wouldn’t hurt.
Draco wonders what other lies he isn’t aware of.
***
Author:
dexstarrWord Count: 749
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for
deatheaterdrabs Round 6: Draco Malfoy; Lies are essential to humanity. They are perhaps as important as the pursuit of pleasure and moreover are dictated by that pursuit. -- ProustSummary: A lifetime of lies.
Warnings: Mention of underage oral.
Author's notes: Thanks to my friend Jay who put up with reading this a few times for me (not on LJ). And oh man, longer drabbles are fun!
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR, and are not mine.
***
“Father, why do you smell different?”
Seven-year-old Draco is sitting next to his father in a leather armchair. Lucius is reading The Daily Prophet and his son is looking at the moving pictures; this close to his father, Draco can smell an unfamiliar scent clinging to his father’s hair. It is not his mother’s orchid and French vanilla perfume, which fills his nose every time she hugs him and tucks him into bed, but something foreign and exotic.
As young as he is, Draco can sense his father isn’t being honest with him when Lucius says, “I had lunch with an old school friend.” Lucius’s eyes darken almost imperceptibly, but Draco, who has made a study of examining his father’s expressions so he can imitate them, notices, and wonders why he hasn’t ever noticed before.
While he is curious, about the scent and the ‘school friend,’ Draco doesn’t ask his mother. He knows it would hurt her, and he never wants to do that. So he keeps his silence, and vows to never have long hair.
***
“I’m going out, Narcissa,” Lucius says as he sweeps into the library where his wife and son are reading by the fire.
Draco looks up from his book, and sees that his father is wearing black dress robes and has his blond hair fastened with a ribbon. He wonders if his father is going to see another ‘school friend.’
“Will you be out late?” At her husband’s nod, Narcissa says, “I won’t wait up, then. Have a good time, love.” Lucius kisses his wife, tells his son to behave, and leaves.
Draco is old enough to read between the lines, and realizes that his mother knows of his father’s infidelity. The knowledge doesn’t bother him so much as her easy acceptance does, and this time he can’t keep silent.
“Mother?” He bites his lip when his voice trembles; at nine, he knows better than to let his emotions show.
“Yes, Draco?” Narcissa looks at him, and his distress must be plain on his face, for she opens her arms. “Come here.” Draco hurtles across the room, jumping onto his mother’s lap, looking for comfort in a way he hasn’t since losing his childhood innocence two years ago.
“Why, Mother?”
Narcissa hugs her son tightly, and her familiar fragrance reminds him of the first lie he heard from a parent. “Oh, my little dragon.” She kisses his forehead. “Some day you’ll learn lies are essential for a happy marriage.”
***
Draco is fourteen when he becomes conscious of the fact that Pansy Parkinson is attractive, or rather, the best looking of all Slytherin girls. He takes her to the Yule Ball, and afterwards she shows her appreciation in the fairy grotto.
Over the next few years they take advantage of dark broom closets and empty classrooms. She’s talented, and he promises her the world while her mouth is on his cock. Pansy wants to be a Malfoy, and Draco plies her with lies, practicing the lessons of his childhood. He will never marry a whore like her.
***
By sixteen, Draco is well versed in the art of lying. He knows the value of an expertly told falsehood, and how to keep all telltale signs from his face and body, and most importantly, from his eyes. Draco can still remember catching his father’s eyes darken when mentioning the ‘school friend.’ No such clues will ever give him away.
Draco knows his sixth year at Hogwarts will be difficult. He must carry out the Dark Lord’s orders while pretending school lessons and sports are his only concerns. The thought is almost laughable; he knows N.E.W.T.s and Quidditch Cups won’t matter when the Dark Order is achieved – only blood purity will, and who was obedient and faithful.
The Malfoy castle of lies has led to him being chosen above all others in the Dark Lord’s employ. Draco is proud that his family has woven such a web of untruths; created such layers of lies that they can live as they please, following their pure-blood philosophy. While Ministry officials bow and scrape to his father, carrying out Lucius’s wishes with the aid of coin and silky words, his family praises the Dark Lord’s name and furthers his cause at sinister soirées.
But as he strokes his fresh Dark Mark, he can’t squash the faint worry in his belly. Aunt Bellatrix had lied, had said the branding wouldn’t hurt.
Draco wonders what other lies he isn’t aware of.
***
