Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Tell Me I'm Dreaming!
0 ReviewsLucius looks forward to a day of muggle hunting with his son.
Lucius, on a rare day off from his menacing death eater duties, prowled the halls of the Malfoy Mansion, searching out his son, thinking they could have a father-son day. Perhaps they’d go out muggle hunting.
Whistling cheerfully, he made his way down the west wing towards Draco’s bedroom, smiling at the idea of being able to spend some quality time with his only child. He knocked on the door, and waited for an answer.
“Who is it?” Draco’s voice answered.
“Your father.”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps then the door opened.
Lucius’s jaw dropped and he had to grab the door frame to stop from falling to the knees. He could do nothing more than stare in shock.
Draco wore black leather trousers that clung to his legs like a leech. Up the sides, from ankle to hip, the trousers were split, held together with a criss-cross of red ribbon, and showing the pale flesh of his legs. Wrapped about each of his thighs were two small, metal studded belts, and on his feet he wore a pair of black boots covered with buckles and tipped with metal.
His top half was covered with a navy blue top, the sleeves and bottom torn off to make the edges ragged. He wore fingerless gloves that came up to his elbows and were overlaid with half a dozen, brightly colour-changing bracelets, each decorated with various sized spikes. Hanging about his neck was a silver chain, on which hung two dog tags, one engraved with the Malfoy coat of arms, the other with his name. A black ribbon also graced his throat, a bat pendant attached to it, which fluttered its wings every now and then.
His left ear had three silver hoops through the top, and small dragon fangs hung from each lobe. His hair stood up in spikes, the tips of which were dyed various colours.
“You wanted something, father?”
Lucius blinked and shook his head to clear it. Next second he had out his wand, pointed it at Draco and growled, “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my son?”
Draco looked shocked, though slightly amused.
“I am Draco, father. Do you like my new look?”
“I don’t believe you! Reveal yourself this instant!”
“Father,” Draco scowled. “I am Draco.”
“Prove it,” Lucius hissed.
“Alright. When I was five you got me a unicorn for my birthday, but killed it when it head butted you.”
Lucius lowered his wand.
“What the hell are you wearing?!”
“What? You don’t like it? Pansy thinks it’s hot.”
Lucius turned away, bringing a hand to his head.
“Merlin help me. Tell me I’m dreaming; please tell me I’m dreaming!”
“Finally! He catches on!” came the familiar sound of Narcissa’s voice. Lucius looked up and frowned. He couldn’t see his wife but it sounded like she was right beside him.
“Lucius! Will you wake up!”
There was a sharp pain in his cheek and he gasped, sitting up abruptly. Looking about, he found himself in his bedroom, Narcissa sat beside him on the bed.
“Thank you,” she said, exasperated.
“You slapped me!” Lucius accused.
“Well nothing else was working. What where you dreaming about?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, pushing the thought of leather-clad Draco from his mind.
“Fine. Well you said you wanted to spend the day with your son, remember? If you don’t go now then you won’t have time to do anything worthwhile.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Narcissa.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek before rising and leaving the room. Lucius sat for a moment longer, trying to permanently erase the dream from mind. Once ready, he stood and headed out towards the west wing, where Draco’s room was situated. He arrived and knocked twice. A few second later the door opened and Lucius opened his mouth to propose a muggle-hunting outing, but the words caught in his throat as he caught sight of his son, dressed in black leather trousers, the side split from hip to ankle …
Lucius fainted abruptly.
Whistling cheerfully, he made his way down the west wing towards Draco’s bedroom, smiling at the idea of being able to spend some quality time with his only child. He knocked on the door, and waited for an answer.
“Who is it?” Draco’s voice answered.
“Your father.”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps then the door opened.
Lucius’s jaw dropped and he had to grab the door frame to stop from falling to the knees. He could do nothing more than stare in shock.
Draco wore black leather trousers that clung to his legs like a leech. Up the sides, from ankle to hip, the trousers were split, held together with a criss-cross of red ribbon, and showing the pale flesh of his legs. Wrapped about each of his thighs were two small, metal studded belts, and on his feet he wore a pair of black boots covered with buckles and tipped with metal.
His top half was covered with a navy blue top, the sleeves and bottom torn off to make the edges ragged. He wore fingerless gloves that came up to his elbows and were overlaid with half a dozen, brightly colour-changing bracelets, each decorated with various sized spikes. Hanging about his neck was a silver chain, on which hung two dog tags, one engraved with the Malfoy coat of arms, the other with his name. A black ribbon also graced his throat, a bat pendant attached to it, which fluttered its wings every now and then.
His left ear had three silver hoops through the top, and small dragon fangs hung from each lobe. His hair stood up in spikes, the tips of which were dyed various colours.
“You wanted something, father?”
Lucius blinked and shook his head to clear it. Next second he had out his wand, pointed it at Draco and growled, “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my son?”
Draco looked shocked, though slightly amused.
“I am Draco, father. Do you like my new look?”
“I don’t believe you! Reveal yourself this instant!”
“Father,” Draco scowled. “I am Draco.”
“Prove it,” Lucius hissed.
“Alright. When I was five you got me a unicorn for my birthday, but killed it when it head butted you.”
Lucius lowered his wand.
“What the hell are you wearing?!”
“What? You don’t like it? Pansy thinks it’s hot.”
Lucius turned away, bringing a hand to his head.
“Merlin help me. Tell me I’m dreaming; please tell me I’m dreaming!”
“Finally! He catches on!” came the familiar sound of Narcissa’s voice. Lucius looked up and frowned. He couldn’t see his wife but it sounded like she was right beside him.
“Lucius! Will you wake up!”
There was a sharp pain in his cheek and he gasped, sitting up abruptly. Looking about, he found himself in his bedroom, Narcissa sat beside him on the bed.
“Thank you,” she said, exasperated.
“You slapped me!” Lucius accused.
“Well nothing else was working. What where you dreaming about?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, pushing the thought of leather-clad Draco from his mind.
“Fine. Well you said you wanted to spend the day with your son, remember? If you don’t go now then you won’t have time to do anything worthwhile.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Narcissa.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek before rising and leaving the room. Lucius sat for a moment longer, trying to permanently erase the dream from mind. Once ready, he stood and headed out towards the west wing, where Draco’s room was situated. He arrived and knocked twice. A few second later the door opened and Lucius opened his mouth to propose a muggle-hunting outing, but the words caught in his throat as he caught sight of his son, dressed in black leather trousers, the side split from hip to ankle …
Lucius fainted abruptly.
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