STRESSED DIDN’T EVEN BEGAN TO describe how the young malfoy was feeling right now. even though this had been a constant feeling, often accompanied with paralyzing fear, and a bit of anger since voldemort came back and the dark mark had been branded into his arm. his life went from being in the hands of an absolute madman, to being in the hands of the british ministry and draco couldn’t decide what he hated more. the man he’d been in forced servitude to that was gone so far into his madness and paranoia that he had no problem raising his wand against defenseless children or the corrupt british ministry of magic, all of whom would PROBABLY LOVE NOTHING MORE THAN seeing the ‘proud’ malfoys off the streets and locked up. needless to say, draco had no high hopes of being able to walk free after their trials were complete.
his father barely escaped prison time for being a death eater after the first wizarding war, then when he’d actually got arrested after the department of mysteries fiasco, that was arguably the worst period of draco’s life thus far. so, he wasn’t just worried about himself, he was worried for his mother who only wanted her family to make it through the war alive at the end, and he worried for his father, who draco knew had no chance of stopping things once they had SPIRALED OUT OF HIS CONTROL. worry was a constant feeling for him. it weighed him down, plagued his dreams when he slept, and his mind during the day. worry nearly suffocated him every time he opened his mouth to speak.
SUCH A STRONG STRESS INDUCED REACTION WAS HOW he found himself in his father’s study, hands resting on the table as he struggled to brace himself while he was on the verge of collapsing. he wasn’t actively trying to find his father, it was more of the need for comfort drawing him here, like when he was four years old and he would find his father working at the desk and draco would climb in his lap, clutching his dragon plushie, seeking his father’s embrace after a nightmare. sweet salazar how he longed to be four again, when his nightmares were simple. now his nightmares were riddled with lifeless bodies, the flashing lights of curses, and soul-sucking dementors.
he didn’t know how long he was there in the middle of a freakout before he felt arms surround him and the words of his father, IN A SOFT TONE THAT HE HADN’T HEARD since before he started hogwarts. it takes another moment and a deep breath of his father’s unique scent before he could even form words, no matter how broken the sentences may be. “what if i lose a chance at living life when i’ve just now gotten free?…. what if you get put back in there?….. what if our family gets torn apart again when we’ve just now started coming together?”
HOLDING DRACO AGAINST HIM, Lucius allowed his mind to drift a bit. Thinking about how different it was to hold Draco now than it had been years ago ━━ where had the time gone that now his son could no longer fit into his arms, but instead almost towered over him? Lucius could remember the weight of a four-year-old Draco as he climbed his lap holding that dreadful dragon shaped stuffed toy in his arms, chubby face tear-striked as he told his father all about his latest nightmare. He recalled how after a few reassuring words, and a hug his little boy would slowly fall asleep again, ease written all over his cherubic little face.
He could only hope that his embrace now could comfort his adult son just as much as it once did. Lucius held him patiently, rubbing circles down his back and whispering sweet nothings against the crown of his head, the words a mix of French and Mandarin. To hear his son's fears was worse than being hit with the strongest cruciatus curse, to hear that frightened tone in each of his son's words was something Lucius had never wanted to hear again. But those were real fears, unlike the ones his little boy had when he was four, what Draco feared now could become true. And Lucius had never lied to him, not as a child and he wouldn't now.
❛ Draco, listen to me... ❜ He began, voice soft and gentle in a way it hadn't been in a long time when talking to his son. Lucius had had to harden his child up, to make him strong in order to withstand the Dark Lord, and so he had to become cruel too. ❛ I will not let them take away your freedom. I will not allow them to tear our family apart, your mother and you will be safe, my darling. ❜ Lucius reassured, running his fingers through Draco's white-blond hair. If the rumours were true, and Shaklebot was the new Ministre, Lucius knew his punishment would come but it would not be too severe, and even if it were, he had enough influence still to assure that Draco and Narcissa escaped with their freedom and money.
❛ I have never lied to you, and I will not deny that there is no hope of me coming out of this unscathed. ❜ He held his son tighter, placing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. ❛ But you understand that I will do whatever I can to keep you and your mother safe, don't you Draco? ❜ Lucius wanted to know if his son was prepared to lose him forever if it meant being free. ❛ You understand that if I have to accept a life sentence, for you and your mother to be free, I wil do so, right? ❜