Harry Potter and everything related to it belong to J.K.Rowling
"What if….?"
He stared forward and winced from her obvious attempt at subtlety. He felt sorry for
her as she waved her arms around, pulling her hands manically through her hair whilst
trying in vain to make eye contact with him.
He kept his arms by his side and tried not to look anywhere but at her although he
couldn't keep his mind from the burning in the back of his head from sharp grey eyes.
Her voice seemed to grow in volume and her eyes looked like spinning blue marbles
as they darted back and forth from him to the figure looming behind him. It was
painful to watch and after each word she spoke the memories grew in sharp stabs of
clarity. He surmised after a few minutes of ringing hands and placing of hair behind
ear that she had finally come to some sort of conclusion within her self; although what
it was he had no idea, and she nodded her head in his direction. The silence was
agony, and her eyes darted once more behind him. She nodded once more as she
crinkled her mouth and then blew out her cheeks. Suddenly after an exhale of breath
and widening of eyes she gathered her things; these objects consisting of a light,
slippery looking scarf and half eaten short bread and hastily made her exit. As she
passed him she paused for a fraction of a second and the pity in her face almost made
him crumble, "Good luck" she whispered, then after one final glance at the man
behind she strode from the room, shaking her blonde head.
He was alone.
He wasn't sure whether Lucius was testing him, but he remained where he was just
in-case. The room encased the two Malfoy's in silence and seemed to wrap them in a
tight awkwardness which made it almost impossible to breath. He anticipated the cane
on his shoulder even before the whistle in his ear and the ruffle of his blonde hair.
And then he was being pushed forward, the previously warm, comforting glow of the
fire now making him feel like he was in some sort of cave with a very irritated
Hungarian Horntail.
"Stand" was his order and he obeyed without even thinking about it. His movements
felt dreamlike, like he was a sleepwalker and when his father sat down before him, in
all his intimidating, fur lined coated glory it took all his might not to fall on the floor
in a soporific heap. Instead he just swallowed discretely.
His father had a unique way of making you feel hypnotized, not unlike the effect of a
cobra, and it was hard to believe that in only a matter of minutes he went from having
a much needed talk with his mother, to standing before his father like a rabbit caught
in the headlights; albeit a very cool and collected rabbit good at hiding his emotions
and fears about being knocked over.
"So…"
It was like a nail scraping a cymbal.
"Had a nice little chat with your mother?"
He decided it was best not to answer.
His father raised his eye brows and without looking; eyes still fixed on him, turned the
pages of the Daily Prophet that was placed on the desk in-front of him.
Draco dared to look down on the current page, which read: 'Record sales of 'Razzle
dazzle rainbow toffee': the candy with "all the flavours of the rainbow"- 'Zonko's'
thrilled…'
With this Draco came to the conclusion that the newspaper probably wasn't the most
important thing on Lucius's mind.
"Don't worry; I heard every word, so I don't need you to explain it to me"
He turned another page, this time brandishing an article about growing costs of gnome
repellent.
He looked at Draco, appearing quite nonchalant. Draco's eyes were focused just
above the top button of his father's coat.
"Not got anything to say?"
Draco quickly shook his head, swiftly mirrored by Lucius shaking his own in a
mocking fashion. "No, no, nothing at all?"
Draco just swallowed again.
"Not like you, you seemed to have a lot to say with your mother, but then-" he looked
up from the pages of the newspaper he had just glanced at- "you always did feel more
able to talk with her"
Each word seemed to be expertly executed to maximum effect; like the intensely
manicured eye-brows of his fathers face.
Draco suddenly felt it would seem a lot less suspicious if he did talk.
"I was- well, that is to say, w-we were just s-s-s-say- I mean talking about umm…."
This wasn't going very well.
He closed his eyes and started again, noting the bemused look in his father's eyes.
"We were just talking about-"
"Abraxas"
"Yes… wait, n-"
"Its alright, it's hardly a secret about my fathers waning mental health"
Whatever conversation Draco thought he was going to have this wasn't it.
"It's been going on for months now"
Lucius rose from his seat and, slowly walked towards the fire, gazing into its depths
as if he could see every sorrow of the world in the dancing flames and burning embers.
Draco just stood, scratching his head and any attempts to get out coherent words and
sentences just resulted in abrupt grunts and sighs.
He resigned himself to go along with it, each word laboured.
"Yes, I'm sorry, we should have-"
Lucius muttered through this statement with "Yes, yes, yes" all the while nodding his
head with his eyes closed.
"-spoke to you first".
"Yes, you should have, but I forgive you, after all it's a difficult subject"
Draco stared at his father now, with pity amongst the look of confusion. The words
came out softly. "Yes it is, father? Are you…. feeling…. alright, you know, are you
well?"
Lucius frowned now, and Draco knew he had said the wrong thing.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
Draco tried to steer the conversation back to his grandfather, he stepped forward. "I-I
mean, this m-must be hard on you?"
Lucius seemed satisfied by this, and looked back into the fire. He merely nodded.
Draco looked at him pensively, relived beyond belief that he wasn't getting some sort
of walloping or verbal attack, but also utterly saddened and devastated that what he
and his mother thought was true.
His father continued. "I noticed something was wrong when he called me by my
Great-grandfathers name, instead of correcting himself he acted as if nothing was
wrong. Then all those strange letters he would write, addressed to mother who has
been dead for 10 years!"
He appeared to grow tired, and it frightened Draco how much his father had changed
in a mere few minutes; how old and worn he now looked.
"What do you think is the cause?" Draco asked.
"I don't know, he refuses to admit anything is wrong, thinks I'm trying to mess with
his head. But I know I'm right; fathers gone mad"
Draco bowed his head; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I spoke to him yesterday and he seemed alright, but, I just don't know!"
Draco just nodded, his head still bent towards the ground.
Lucius seemed to snap from a daze. "Right, anyway"
He turned towards his son, suddenly regaining the intimidating stance Draco had
grown up with. He walked towards him, backing him into the wall. He pointed at
Draco as he spoke, cane in hand so the snake head waved in-front of Draco's nose.
"If I hear you talking about my father again behind my back"
He slammed the cane to the ground, emitting a loud crack against the marble floor,
the act explaining his father's intentional consequence without words.
Draco nodded, slightly shook up. "Of course father, I'm sorry"
His father lingered, then gathered up his cane, and, sweeping his coat behind him
strode from the drawing room.
It took all of Draco's will to stop the hot tears prickling behind his eyes.
He sat alone in that room for what felt like decades, staring into the fire, remembering
what his father was like with him when he was a child; firm, but fair. And Draco had
always respected him and looked up to him, now Draco didn't know how to cope.
He wiped his eyes as his mother entered.
He felt her sit down next to him and place her arm around him.
"He thinks Abraxas is alive, doesn't he?"
Draco nodded after a short pause.
"I caught him talking to himself yesterday, and he wouldn't move from his chair for
two days straight last week"
Her voice caught in her throat. She then nodded, more to herself then anyone.
"We'll call the department of mental health at St.Mungos, tomorrow, get him admitted"
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Strange little one-shot that grew from nothing! I was determined to write something, so I just began with no idea with where I was going and as it got longer I started to really like it, I then came up with the mental health idea. I'd watched 'The Notebook' a few days previously, and the ending really got to me when she couldn't remember anything about who she was, and he had to read her that book over and over again, it was soo sad! And this is how the idea came about. I have no intention of carrying it on, but, hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please please PLEASE review, cause I still love them, even for a one-shot!
It's called "What if…?" by the way because it's a question anyway could ask themselves: 'What if me or my family got a mental illness?" because it could happen to anyone, even a man like Lucius.