Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling, I just like to play with them a little.
CHAPTER THREE
HE'S MY ONLY SON FOR MERLIN'S SAKE
Lucius' head appeared in the kitchen fireplace at the Burrow.
"Weasley," Lucius snarled.
Arthur smiled smugly at the blond wizard. "Ah Malfoy… I have something that belongs to you."
"What could you possibly have of mine?" Lucius replied contemptuously.
"Boys, pick up it up," Arthur ordered.
Bill and Charlie hoisted Draco, by the armpits, paraded his naked form in front of the fire for his father to see, and then unceremoniously dropped him to the floor again within full view of Lucius.
"The house is accessible via the Floo network only," Arthur informed him, knowing full well that this mode of transport did not sit well with the aristocrat.
Within seconds an ash covered Lucius Malfoy was standing in front of Arthur Weasley. He promptly drew his wand and performed a Scourgify charm, to clean off the soot. He noted, but chose to disregard, for the time being at least, Draco's state of dress, or undress as the case more accurately was. He did not however, ignore the fact that his only child and heir had his hands bound crudely behind his back.
"I demand that you release my son immediately," Lucius told him in a dangerously low tone.
"I don't think so, you see I have a problem with that piece of filth you refer to as your son," Arthur replied, as he walked around the table and sat down. "Take a seat, Malfoy, we've got a problem to sort."
Lucius moved to sit opposite Arthur, noticing for the first time the young witch seated at the other end of the table with, it seemed, only a blanket to cover her modesty. Lucius was no fool, and did not need an in-depth explanation of what the situation was; the evidence spoke for itself.
"Well talk, Weasley," Lucius snapped.
"I arrived home this morning to find your boy in my daughter's bed," Arthur informed him, struggling to maintain his temper.
"I hardly see how you can claim that you are the one with the problem, it seems that Draco is the one who has lowered himself," Lucius replied in a controlled tone laced heavily with acid.
"I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Malfoy," Charlie snarled from behind Arthur.
"Good bit of advice that. Charlie here inherited Molly's temper, and it's not very pretty to witness," Arthur warned almost casually.
"This is absurd," Lucius growled under his breath.
"Back to business then. Now, the way I see it, your boy has destroyed any chance I may have had in making a good match for my only daughter," Arthur said gruffly.
"What is this going to cost me?" Lucius sighed heavily.
"Your money is no good here, Malfoy," Arthur informed him.
"No, I suppose you would not know what to do with it," Lucius muttered.
With that comment, the Weasley boys plus Harry began to advance on Lucius, each wearing expressions of pure loathing. The blond wizards eyes opened marginally. He was no fool. He knew these men could take him and his son apart in seconds, if the mood struck them.
"Down boys," Arthur instructed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched the senior Malfoy struggle to retain a dispassionate expression on his face. "There is no price on my daughter's virtue."
"Be reasonable, Weasley. Everyone has a price," Lucius was losing what little patience he had, but he was loathed to let Weasley know it.
"You don't have a daughter, Malfoy. I don't expect you to understand, but believe me when I say if you were to hand over your Gringotts vaults and their contents, it would not be enough," Arthur told him pensively.
"Then what?" Lucius said impatiently, trying to ignore the fact the left elbow of his expensive robes was resting perilously close to something disturbingly indescribable atop the kitchen table.
"I was thinking that perhaps it was time to invoke some of the more ancient wizarding laws," Arthur replied, watching his adversary for his reaction.
"You can not be serious?" Lucius countered in astonishment.
"I am most definitely serious," Arthur confirmed.
"Weasley, need I remind you that this is the twentieth century?"
"Twentieth… fourteenth, the crime is still the same. Why should the punishment differ?" Arthur reasoned with a deceptively casual shrug.
"That would mean…"
"Yes, it would." Arthur smiled broadly for the first time, but it was not a congenial gesture.
Seeing no alternative, Lucius was forced to agree. "You are certain of this, Weasley?"
"Absolutely," Arthur confirmed without hesitation.
"Very well then, it seems I have no choice." With a heavy sigh, Lucius cast a pitiful glance at Draco.
"Good. Bill, summons Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure he would be happy to officiate proceedings," Arthur ordered.
"Dumbledore," Lucius shrieked, all pretenses at dispassion abandoned.
"Dad, I could contact the Minister. I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Percy interjected pompously.
"No, no that won't be necessary, I'm sure the minister has far more important things to concern himself with," Arthur declined the offer.
"In my opinion, the Minister of Magic would be far better qualified," Lucius interjected.
"More qualified than the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot?" Arthur queried cynically.
"Very well, Dumbledore will suffice, however, I insist Severus Snape be in attendance." Lucius agreed reluctantly, but put forward his demand that at least Draco's godfather be present, and he felt prepared to push the issue if needs be.
"Agreed, if that is what will make you feel more comfortable with the procedure," Arthur said.
"I will never feel comfortable with this," Lucius growled. "This is utterly absurd. I cannot believe I have to go along with it. He's my only son for Merlin's sake!"
Draco had been listening intently to the conversation, and did not like what had reached his ears thus far. With all this talk of Professor Dumbledore in his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Minister of Magic, he was sure that it could not be good for his health. He was totally perplexed as to what fate held for him, and he cursed himself for not paying more attention in History of Magic. As he sat bound and motionless on the floor, he hoped that whatever it was, it would be quick and painless.
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AUTHORS NOTES
I'd like to thank my live journal friends for their encouragement to finish this fic and their hilarious suggestions that enabled me to do so.
Special thanks to vequihellin and rainpuddle13 for their fantastic beta skills *hugs*
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