Crawling

Chapter One

She promised me everything. She took away my pain for a temperamental basis. My world was perfect, if only for a little while. I had always promised myself that I would be happy, no matter what cost. However, when my happiness resulted in the form of a small redhead the cost proved to be so much more than I could pay.

It was ironic really; I had always thought myself immune to love. I had been thankful for my exemption from this disease; it was all nonsense that made logical people behave in insane manners.

Now I was the insane one. I was the one left alone and brokenhearted. I, who was so positive that my heart could not be broken…It had taken me years to make myself as cold on the inside as I appeared outwardly, I had thought that my defenses could not be breached. Especially not by a Weasley…

My own callousness and utter stupidity gave her cause to leave, and even greater justification to her reigning unhappiness. It killed me that I had hurt her. At the time, I wrote it off as being 'for her own good' and saw it as a form of self-sacrifice and protection. It was cowardly and I despise myself for it.

There are times when I hate her though, hate her out of my own selfish anger. I hate that she hadn't fought harder for us, that she had just accepted the fate that I laid out before her, and that she just left when I asked her to. I hate that she didn't see behind my mask, behind my lies. I hate that she had tried so hard for so long to save me, and then she just gave up. But mostly I hate that she won't come back to me.

I can still see the defeated look in her eyes when she looked at me. I can still hear that lifeless tone in her voice when she called me a hopeless cause. She was right, perhaps I am hopeless. However, I don't want to be.

There was a time when I had fought her and wished for nothing more than for her remove herself from my presence. She was so innocent, trusting, and naïve. I have ruined her though, I made her into a cynic that will always wary of other's intentions. I tainted the virtuousness caused me to fall in love with her…and for that, I shall never forgive myself.

I've spent the past three years without her; I don't want to spend any more. I want her to come back to me; I want her to save me. I am willing to be her pupil so she can teach me of love, as she had always wanted to.

I want the light to come back in her eyes; I want them to light up and sparkle whenever she sees me. I want her to love me again…

I smiled bitterly at what she had reduced me to. Sitting alone in my study with my glass of port wallowing in wistful reflections.

I want her back more than anything; I would give up all of my possessions, everything that I once held dear, just to have her willingly in my arms.

There was a time when I had that without having to give anything in return.

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I awoke to the sun beating down heavily against my face. Not an entirely pleasant way for one to wake after one has spent the previous night indulging themselves in alcohol.

My eyes reluctantly opened with the satisfying realization that I was now the master of all that surrounded me. My 'dear' mother had finally departed from this world after her long struggle with self-provoked delusions mixed with her own alcoholic tendencies.

Father had long since taken the easier way out. A grand total of three and a half months in Azkaban did him in by way of suicide. Mother had taken permanently to her bed the very second that she discovered the news of her husband's ruin. She clung to life though, if for nothing else than to spite me, for I could not truly be the master of the Malfoy until she passed. Lucius had seen to it in a spout of insanity that his wife would succeed him, and his son her.

However, she was gone now, and no one was left in my way. No one was around to screw with the Malfoy fortune any longer. It was still intimidating in amount, but not the size that it once was. Only one generation of service to the Dark Lord had seen to that. Evil, after all, is quite expensive.

No more though. I would triple the largest amount that our fortune had ever been. My father's greed had lain in power, mine in possession. Power was fickle and not entirely real. Power does not have the same lasting results of wealth, and, besides, it is not possible to have true and absolute power. There is no way short of mind control to get every man, woman, and child to respect, honor, and obey you. But in money and possessions, you could buy what you did not already have. Prestige could be bought if so desired; naming the right price is all that is required.

My father did not have enough money to gain the one thing he truly wanted, but where he failed, I would succeed. I was young, ambitious, and hungry...a good combination in my eyes.

I stumbled out of the oversized bed and dressed quickly, ignoring the pounding that was in my head. No time for hangovers.

Walking down the stairs, I felt the addicting scent of coffee reach my senses. Reaching the drink in a zombie-like state, I drank it down quickly, feeling it overcome the results of my personal celebration.

The funeral was today. This came to me with an unpleasant quickness, as I knew it my duty to go. A benefit of being a Malfoy is that I wouldn't be expected to be the heartbroken son. As my wardrobe mostly consisted of black clothing I had no need to change from my original outfit, it would do.

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The coldness of the winter day hit hard. Everyone around me shivered and made pathetic attempts at warming themselves by rubbing their hands together or giving themselves a protective hug. I stood in complete stillness as if I were somewhat hot; it did no good to show that an enemy such as the weather could overtake you with such quickness.

The funeral itself was…dark. She had planned her own funeral, down to the very last black flower. My mother was just that kind of person. If she didn't do it herself it was bound to have flaws and mistakes, and that was not acceptable. Even in her grave, she was worrying about what others would think.

That is one of the biggest mistakes of Malfoy women; they tend to make efforts to please. Please yourself and the hell with everyone else, that was the unspoken motto of the Malfoy men. With the extreme exception of my father, that is, who served in a disgustingly obedient way to one half blood.

I felt a presence beside me; I needn't turn to discover who had dared to approach me. Only one man had that powerful aura about him, my grandfather. He was a mean-spirited, uncaring, selfish son of a bitch; and, consequently, one of the few beings whom I held any respect for.

"Grandfather." I acknowledged curtly.

"Draco, my son."

My son. He had always called me that, always said that Lucius was an extreme disappointment. Since we shared that particular sentiment, we each crossed out Lucius in the generation gap. Cronus Malfoy always was more like the father that I expected anyhow. True to his name in every sense of it's origin…with the important exception of swallowing his children. Though he says now that he wished that he would have.

"You are twenty-one now Draco, and the successor of the Malfoy throne. I feel it necessary to speak to you after the funeral."

I nodded and took one last look at the elaborately dreary scene. "We can leave now."

He turned and led me to his carriage. He despised magical transportation, said it was unstable and cheap. So on his orders we rode in silence to the place of his and my father's birth. A place that's darkness overpowered even that of Malfoy Manor.

Grandfather's home was intimidating, cold, and a most unwelcome site. I relished in it and looked forward to the day when it would be in my possession.

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I sat in my grandfather's study mildly impressed by the effects of his fire and lack of any other light. It made for an eerie glow of sorts.

"Draco," he called from behind his large desk, "now that you are the official head of the Malfoy I do hope that you have a plan of stability. Our fortune is not what it once was; I look to you, son, to rebuild our empire."

"I do have a plan, you needn't worry."

"I never do," he assured.

I stood, "Is that all that you needed?"

He nodded but stopped me as I turned to leave. "Just a word of advice," he called out, "know that while you may be head of this family there are still others above you."

Comprehension came immediately; he meant himself. Our family structure had always been set up oddly; it began with the first inklings of our wealth. Dorian Malfoy had first struck fortune when he took up business in "trading." Trading, of course meaning that he cheated and stole his money, but saying that our wealth began in the trade sounded much better. His son, Aidan, did not have the patience to wait for his father to die before taking the fortune into his own hands, so he simply overthrew his elderly father. Thus began the grand tradition of the son inheriting all once the father reached the age of fifty.

The story grows longer though, as the overthrown fathers added their own clauses into this unspoken contract. It was a checks and balances of sorts, the eldest of the family had the most power, but the head of the family had all the control. I'm aware that it doesn't make sense…but it works.

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Malfoy Manor seemed to have a subdued aura to it upon returning from the funeral. It took only a matter of seconds to figure out what was different; the house elves were in mourning. Splendid.

I suppressed the urge to kick a random house elf as I made my way to the study, my study. "Damn creatures," I murmured as I passed one in tears. Mother was forever throwing some sort of party; the elves loved her for it. Something about planning a social gathering made them practically orgasmic for some reason.

Locked in the sanity of my study I sat back and appreciated the effectiveness of it all. Above the fireplace hung a gloomy intimidating portrait of my father. He had seen to it that he was immortalized the second that the mansion was officially his.

At first, I thought that I would take the portrait down; I had no real desire to see my father looming over me as I did my work. However, it was near impossible to remove the portrait. It had protection spells so that it could not be destroyed or stolen. As if the thieves were just lining up to steal such a thing…

I sat at the desk in a rare moment of boredom. There was really nothing to do until the next day when I would be meeting with various Ministry officials to gain the authorizations that I required.

My eyes lifted to the ceiling that was done in over extravagance, the entire thing was pure gold. It was worth more than a small country and sat nearly twenty-five feet in the air where it was untouchable. I could appreciate the profligate taste that the study was done in, but I really didn't like it. There was simply no use for it. I absolutely adored money, and, in turn, the showing off of said money. However, there is an extreme difference between showing your wealth and wasting your wealth. A solid gold ceiling was wasting money, plain and simple.

I scowled; Malfoy Manner was truly my father's home. There were many residences in the Malfoy name; the top two though were Malfoy Manor and Reverie Hall. Reverie Hall was at the moment in my grandfather's possession. These two buildings were the most sought after mansions on the continent, mostly for the power they contained within their walls. While both were worthy, I preferred Reverie.

Malfoy Manor was showy and wasteful. The place of my childhood, the birthplace of my unhappiness. I had lusted after Reverie for years; it amused Grandfather to no extent. He felt that my clear preference for the subtler mansion showed a sign of intelligence and character. He also said that I would have to kill him before I took it over.

With a decisive stride I left the study, the room itself was giving me a headache. "Charles" I called out to the eerie butler who always seemed to be lurking about somewhere. "Get me a damn decorator in here, posthaste."

Without waiting for an answer, I stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind me just to take in the satisfaction of hearing the noise. A decorator would be here by the time I returned, Charles was nothing if not efficient.

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My business for the day completed I stepped back into Malfoy Manor to discover Charles waiting by the door for me.

"A decorator is here as prior to your request, your grace."

I nodded in acknowledgement and made my way to the study, which Charles said she had been in for the past hour. Opening the door quietly enough so that it didn't announce my presence I took the time to observe her observing the room. I took note of her serious contemplation and could practically see her mentally redecorating the study. I also noticed her stunningly bright red hair…

Alarm bells went off in my head, red hair equaled beings that I do not associate myself with. "Pardon me," I nearly smiled as she practically jumped out of her skin, "but you wouldn't happen to be, or be related to, a Weasley, would you?"

She finally turned and met my eyes with an unwelcome defiance. "I am a Weasley. And before you throw me out, which I have no doubt will get you off, know that I am the very best in the business and I have no interest in interacting with you any more than absolutely necessary."

"As I have no desire to see my home turned into the equivalent of a muggle farm I can tell you that your 'expert' services are not needed, nor wanted. I trust you can remember your way out?"

Obviously not in the mood to breech the limits of propriety, or her pride, she stalked out of the room without so much as a backwards glance at me. This brought the first smile that my features had seen in years; it was nice to know that you just never outgrow certain things.

"Charles," I called and received the wanted person within seconds.

"Yes, your grace?"

"When I told you to get a decorator, I meant one of a tasteful, experienced, elate persuasion. Do make an attempt to not hire a Weasley for anything other than cleaning…and even then, make sure that it's cleaning the outside area, understood?"

"Yes, of course," he said immediately. I raised an eyebrow. "Your grace," he amended quickly.

"And, Charles," I said as he turned to leave. "I am entertaining very important guests in three days time. Guests that are in dire need of influence to gain my admittance to the business world. I do not need to inform you of the significance that they be treated with every luxury and courtesy while residing here. You may go."

Left alone in the still overbearing study I walked behind the desk and sat in the massive chair. This had to work out or Malfoy would cease to be what it was. Grandfather had been foolish enough to not exert his powers over my father. Half of it was gone, the other half being used to carry out my plan, my risk.

If this didn't work, the name would be all that we had left. Things would be sold, auctioned off to the highest bidder. Grandfather was resting the fate of our family on my shoulders.

I slammed a fist down on the table. I shouldn't have to be doing anything of this nature. I should have been given the choice of either leisurely bidding my time or going full force into the world.

I loved money. Desired it above all else. If I didn't pull this off, I would be lacking extremely in my one true love.

My potential business partners came to mind. Their respective businesses weren't exactly legal, but legality has always been of a minimal concern to my family. There was power in my name, they would have to trust in that, as my bank account was severely lacking.

Pulling it off would result in our fortune increasing by a tenfold…the risks were worth it, even if the odds were not entirely in my favor. It was necessary and I would pull it off. I would not fail.

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A/N- For those of you unfamiliar with Mythology Cronus was a God who, upon hearing it fated that one of his children would overthrow him, literally swallowed each newborn whole. I found this to be a Malfoy-like characteristic and couldn't resist using his name. Let me know what you think, comments are very appreciated.