Dracpunzel (A fractured fairy tale) Chapter the First
Dracpunzel (A fractured fairy tale)
Chapter the First: In which Unwise Incursions are Made
By dracontia
Summary: Lucius endeavors to appear as if he knows what he is doing.
Disclaimer: I own neither HP characters nor fairytales. Please refrain from penalizing my impoverished self for playing with them.
WARNING: Reading this fractured fairy tale at work will potentially threaten your professional demeanor. Please think carefully before eating, drinking, or pretending to write reports whilst reading.
Prologue: In Which Ideas are Hare-Brained
The very next day, Lucius set out on a leisurely stroll about the east gardens which gradually brought him near the formidable wall separating them from their formidable neighbor’s property. Narcissa watched from the window with grave misgivings and a much-put-upon house elf. Well aware of his wife’s eyes upon him, Lucius endeavored to appear as if he knew what he was about.
This was no mean feat given that three passes around the perimeter left him none the wiser as to how one might enter. It appeared that whatever gates had once existed had been bricked over, and no amount of frantic and foolish wand-waving on Lucius’ part managed to reveal any hidden doors. He toyed with the idea of climbing over a low spot, but climbing walls seemed proper only to the most plebian (and almost worse, Muggle) sort. There was nothing for it; he would have to Summon a broom and attempt to fly in… casually.
After having his broom ripped out from under him by a Whomping Willow sapling, landing headfirst in a Peeved Privet hedge and rolling three times before coming to a stop against the wall of the greenhouse, Lucius decided that if he had to choose between ‘survivable’ and ‘casual,’ he might do just as well to climb the wall like a plebe.
“This is all very vexing.” Lucius addressed his remarks to the soiled cuffs of his robe. “One might suspect that this chap doesn’t want the sort of opportunity that comes with the occasional genteel incursion into his garden.” He worked the door open, still quietly fretting about his damaged couture. This may very well have been the reason he did not notice that he had company in the greenhouse until ropes whipped around him and caused him to crash to the ground for the second time that day.
“What the devil-Malfoy? Don’t tell me you’re so blond you can’t tell the difference between my property and your Manor.” Severus stepped out from behind a potted Palmquist, his wand trained on Lucius’ prone form. His lips thinned in a frown (though this was scarcely distinguishable from his usual expression) and his forehead creased with two vertical lines that made angry checkmarks of his eyebrows.
Lucius sniffed. “I say, you aren’t going about this correctly-”
“This, from the man trespassing in my greenhouse,” Severus interjected. A third line joined the two between his eyebrows and his lips seemed to vanish completely.
“-at all. You’re supposed to rave and threaten and present me with the opportunity to offer you some sort of compensation.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “Let’s say I’ve done all the threatening and raving. Offer me the damned bribe and I’ll decide whether it’s worth not turning you over to the authorities, such as they are-or to my giant pitcher plant. It was looking a little peckish this morning.”
“As much as it pains me to do so,” Lucius tried to place a hand over his heart, but was hampered by the magical ropes. He settled for sighing heavily. Severus narrowed his eyes at the other wizard, causing Lucius to speed it up a little. After all, Severus now resembled nothing so much as a scarecrow with a face made of punctuation marks, and Lucius feared that he might be losing the plot at this rate. “My heir. The child Narcissa is carrying, the source of her craving which has served me so ill.”
Severus’ head tilted to one side in the manner of a man trying to hear something. His frown deepened into such sharp relief that it emphasized his already significant nose to an alarming degree. His shoulders dropped, taking his lower jaw along for company. What issued from the open mouth were the incredulous words, “You stepped in WHAT, clear up to WHERE?”
Lucius blinked. “What a remarkable coincidence,” he murmured to himself.
“I’m not sure whether to feed you to the plant or use you to test insanity cures,” Severus continued, in serious danger of being permanently trapped in an advanced state of ‘aghast.’
“Well. That was…rather rude,” Lucius said, feeling much put out (and not just because he was beginning to lose feeling in his left arm.) “Here I am, offering you that which I treasure most-next to, well…” Lucius drifted off for a moment, mesmerized by the play of light on his hair. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I say, when someone offers you their firstborn child, I really think you ought to respond with a little less incredulity and a fair bit more gratitude.”
“But I don’t WANT a child!” Severus forgot to maintain his menacing stance while waved his arms frantically-also somewhat worryingly given that he was still holding his wand and it was beginning to spit sparks. “I don’t care what sort of rumors you may have heard, I don’t use them as potions ingredients!”
“Who would give up their child to be used as potions ingredients? And he had the audacity to call me insane,” Lucius added that last bit sotto voce. “No, there will be no putting children into potions. The child is to be your apprentice, don’t you see? Honestly, man, have you never read fairy stories?”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but those magazines were delivered entirely by accident and I disposed of them as soon as I determined what they were,” Severus said waspishly.
Lucius decided to regard everything that was not a product of his own vocal cords as a sort of non-sequitur for purposes of the remaining discussion. “If you can’t make sense, do try to listen to it. You have no heirs and as you so emphatically indicated, you do not care to have any. But at least you should have an apprentice, else all you have worked for-your greenhouses, your laboratory, your innovations and knowledge-will simply revert to the Principality when the inevitable eventually occurs.”
The forehead lines which had disappeared during Severus’ panic attack returned with a more thoughtful cast. Lucius pressed on, sensing he was making headway. “And what of the Principality… why, it is the very definition of ‘in shambles’ these days. Who is to say which of Slytherin’s heirs will take charge? The half-witted Marquise of Gaunt, or the easily bemused Baron Bulstrode? Perhaps Riddle’s Bastard, the smarmy little antique hunter, will appreciate your accomplishments?”
“Dear God,” Severus murmured, “That Gaunt beast would tear the wings off my Flying Freesias for sport, and that fool Bulstrode would use my lab notes to paper train his Crups.” He turned a shade paler-no mean feat for an already rather sallow man.
“Precisely,” Lucius continued his appeal in a somewhat distracted manner, given that his limited attention span was mostly occupied with relieving the pressure on his wrists. “But if you were to train your own apprentice to suit, you could ensure that your achievements were properly appreciated for posterity.” He sighed. “I daresay this conversation would proceed more smoothly if I could feel my arms.”
“Hmm.” Severus did not end the spell altogether, but he did loosen the ropes slightly. “What’s in it for you, Malfoy? Why not simply throw money at me? It appears to be your preferred solution to any problem.”
Lucius performed a rapid mental calculation regarding how much bullshit Severus would tolerate, and concluded that said tolerance would be dangerously low. “Anyone with a passing awareness of your abilities and possessions would know that an offer of money would merely insult you.” Severus seemed to be weighing the words just as he had Lucius’ earlier intimations about the disarray of the kingdom. Inspiration bloomed in the vast expanse behind Lucius’ eyes and he knew how he might seal the deal. “And I admit… it wouldn’t hurt for my child to have an additional protector, as it were, in these trying times.” There. He had presented Severus with both a tempting offer and a motivation plausible enough that Severus would be convinced of Lucius’ sincerity. It had the advantage of not being a lie, per se, should the surly wizard happen to have any skills as a Legilimens.
“I would be willing to entertain a contract in the matter,” Severus finally answered. Almost as an afterthought, he loosened the ropes enough for Lucius to fumble out of them.
Showing the same lack of judgment which had characterized his conduct throughout the debacle, Lucius chose to press his luck. “This sort of thing is always dealt with verbally. It’s a matter of honor.”
“Which is precisely why I want it in writing,” Severus said. Lucius thought his dry tone very poor form, indeed. However, his arms were too full of pins and needles to dispute it with his wand.
“I have suitable parchment in my study,” Lucius said with a sigh. “Bring the first installment of the Dragon’s Blood resin and we’ll work it out.”
“I have perfectly suitable parchment in my tower,” Severus countered.
Just then, an owl swooped through the open greenhouse door. It dropped a Howler on the ground between the two men, and before Severus could aim, Narcissa’s voice shivered the glass.
“SEVERUS SNAPE! IF YOU HAVE DONE ANYTHING UNTOWARD TO MY EQUAL PARTS CONNIVING AND RIDICULOUSLY BUMBLING SPOUSE, YOUR DRAGON’S BLOOD RESIN WILL BE THE LEAST OF YOUR BELONGINGS THAT I WILL BE CHEWING TO A BLOODY PULP!”
They contemplated the exploded, smoking, red parchment on the floor of the greenhouse. Or rather, Severus did; Lucius was cowering quite as much as the unhappy sentient plants around the Howler’s epicenter.
“Your study it is,” Severus conceded.
Thanks to Sunny33 for reminding me of the necessity of warning labels. :D
Chapter the Second: In Which Hare-Brained Ideas are Committed to Parchment
Chapter the Third: In Which Childbirth Transpires
Chapter the Fourth: In Which Severus Gains an Apprentice...
Chapter the Fifth: ...and Begins Losing His Mind
Chapter the Sixth: ... In Which it is Established that This is a Hairy Situation
Chapter the Seventh: In Which ‘Dracaena Draco,’ etc. Becomes a Household Word
Chapter the Eighth: In Which There Are Queer Developments
Chapter the Ninth: In Which Draco is Blond
Chapter the Tenth: In Which Loopholes are Sought
Chapter the Eleventh: In Which Desperate Measures are Taken
Chapter the Twelfth: In Which Severus Sees More Than He Would Have Preferred
Chapter the Thirteenth: In Which Draco is a Princess
Chapter the Fourteenth: In Which Harry is Awfully Short for a Prince
Chapter the Fifteenth: In Which Draco’s Prince Comes...
Epilogue: In Which Severus is Through With This Sh*t
Comprehensive Fic List
Chapter the First: In which Unwise Incursions are Made
By dracontia
Summary: Lucius endeavors to appear as if he knows what he is doing.
Disclaimer: I own neither HP characters nor fairytales. Please refrain from penalizing my impoverished self for playing with them.
WARNING: Reading this fractured fairy tale at work will potentially threaten your professional demeanor. Please think carefully before eating, drinking, or pretending to write reports whilst reading.
Prologue: In Which Ideas are Hare-Brained
The very next day, Lucius set out on a leisurely stroll about the east gardens which gradually brought him near the formidable wall separating them from their formidable neighbor’s property. Narcissa watched from the window with grave misgivings and a much-put-upon house elf. Well aware of his wife’s eyes upon him, Lucius endeavored to appear as if he knew what he was about.
This was no mean feat given that three passes around the perimeter left him none the wiser as to how one might enter. It appeared that whatever gates had once existed had been bricked over, and no amount of frantic and foolish wand-waving on Lucius’ part managed to reveal any hidden doors. He toyed with the idea of climbing over a low spot, but climbing walls seemed proper only to the most plebian (and almost worse, Muggle) sort. There was nothing for it; he would have to Summon a broom and attempt to fly in… casually.
After having his broom ripped out from under him by a Whomping Willow sapling, landing headfirst in a Peeved Privet hedge and rolling three times before coming to a stop against the wall of the greenhouse, Lucius decided that if he had to choose between ‘survivable’ and ‘casual,’ he might do just as well to climb the wall like a plebe.
“This is all very vexing.” Lucius addressed his remarks to the soiled cuffs of his robe. “One might suspect that this chap doesn’t want the sort of opportunity that comes with the occasional genteel incursion into his garden.” He worked the door open, still quietly fretting about his damaged couture. This may very well have been the reason he did not notice that he had company in the greenhouse until ropes whipped around him and caused him to crash to the ground for the second time that day.
“What the devil-Malfoy? Don’t tell me you’re so blond you can’t tell the difference between my property and your Manor.” Severus stepped out from behind a potted Palmquist, his wand trained on Lucius’ prone form. His lips thinned in a frown (though this was scarcely distinguishable from his usual expression) and his forehead creased with two vertical lines that made angry checkmarks of his eyebrows.
Lucius sniffed. “I say, you aren’t going about this correctly-”
“This, from the man trespassing in my greenhouse,” Severus interjected. A third line joined the two between his eyebrows and his lips seemed to vanish completely.
“-at all. You’re supposed to rave and threaten and present me with the opportunity to offer you some sort of compensation.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “Let’s say I’ve done all the threatening and raving. Offer me the damned bribe and I’ll decide whether it’s worth not turning you over to the authorities, such as they are-or to my giant pitcher plant. It was looking a little peckish this morning.”
“As much as it pains me to do so,” Lucius tried to place a hand over his heart, but was hampered by the magical ropes. He settled for sighing heavily. Severus narrowed his eyes at the other wizard, causing Lucius to speed it up a little. After all, Severus now resembled nothing so much as a scarecrow with a face made of punctuation marks, and Lucius feared that he might be losing the plot at this rate. “My heir. The child Narcissa is carrying, the source of her craving which has served me so ill.”
Severus’ head tilted to one side in the manner of a man trying to hear something. His frown deepened into such sharp relief that it emphasized his already significant nose to an alarming degree. His shoulders dropped, taking his lower jaw along for company. What issued from the open mouth were the incredulous words, “You stepped in WHAT, clear up to WHERE?”
Lucius blinked. “What a remarkable coincidence,” he murmured to himself.
“I’m not sure whether to feed you to the plant or use you to test insanity cures,” Severus continued, in serious danger of being permanently trapped in an advanced state of ‘aghast.’
“Well. That was…rather rude,” Lucius said, feeling much put out (and not just because he was beginning to lose feeling in his left arm.) “Here I am, offering you that which I treasure most-next to, well…” Lucius drifted off for a moment, mesmerized by the play of light on his hair. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I say, when someone offers you their firstborn child, I really think you ought to respond with a little less incredulity and a fair bit more gratitude.”
“But I don’t WANT a child!” Severus forgot to maintain his menacing stance while waved his arms frantically-also somewhat worryingly given that he was still holding his wand and it was beginning to spit sparks. “I don’t care what sort of rumors you may have heard, I don’t use them as potions ingredients!”
“Who would give up their child to be used as potions ingredients? And he had the audacity to call me insane,” Lucius added that last bit sotto voce. “No, there will be no putting children into potions. The child is to be your apprentice, don’t you see? Honestly, man, have you never read fairy stories?”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but those magazines were delivered entirely by accident and I disposed of them as soon as I determined what they were,” Severus said waspishly.
Lucius decided to regard everything that was not a product of his own vocal cords as a sort of non-sequitur for purposes of the remaining discussion. “If you can’t make sense, do try to listen to it. You have no heirs and as you so emphatically indicated, you do not care to have any. But at least you should have an apprentice, else all you have worked for-your greenhouses, your laboratory, your innovations and knowledge-will simply revert to the Principality when the inevitable eventually occurs.”
The forehead lines which had disappeared during Severus’ panic attack returned with a more thoughtful cast. Lucius pressed on, sensing he was making headway. “And what of the Principality… why, it is the very definition of ‘in shambles’ these days. Who is to say which of Slytherin’s heirs will take charge? The half-witted Marquise of Gaunt, or the easily bemused Baron Bulstrode? Perhaps Riddle’s Bastard, the smarmy little antique hunter, will appreciate your accomplishments?”
“Dear God,” Severus murmured, “That Gaunt beast would tear the wings off my Flying Freesias for sport, and that fool Bulstrode would use my lab notes to paper train his Crups.” He turned a shade paler-no mean feat for an already rather sallow man.
“Precisely,” Lucius continued his appeal in a somewhat distracted manner, given that his limited attention span was mostly occupied with relieving the pressure on his wrists. “But if you were to train your own apprentice to suit, you could ensure that your achievements were properly appreciated for posterity.” He sighed. “I daresay this conversation would proceed more smoothly if I could feel my arms.”
“Hmm.” Severus did not end the spell altogether, but he did loosen the ropes slightly. “What’s in it for you, Malfoy? Why not simply throw money at me? It appears to be your preferred solution to any problem.”
Lucius performed a rapid mental calculation regarding how much bullshit Severus would tolerate, and concluded that said tolerance would be dangerously low. “Anyone with a passing awareness of your abilities and possessions would know that an offer of money would merely insult you.” Severus seemed to be weighing the words just as he had Lucius’ earlier intimations about the disarray of the kingdom. Inspiration bloomed in the vast expanse behind Lucius’ eyes and he knew how he might seal the deal. “And I admit… it wouldn’t hurt for my child to have an additional protector, as it were, in these trying times.” There. He had presented Severus with both a tempting offer and a motivation plausible enough that Severus would be convinced of Lucius’ sincerity. It had the advantage of not being a lie, per se, should the surly wizard happen to have any skills as a Legilimens.
“I would be willing to entertain a contract in the matter,” Severus finally answered. Almost as an afterthought, he loosened the ropes enough for Lucius to fumble out of them.
Showing the same lack of judgment which had characterized his conduct throughout the debacle, Lucius chose to press his luck. “This sort of thing is always dealt with verbally. It’s a matter of honor.”
“Which is precisely why I want it in writing,” Severus said. Lucius thought his dry tone very poor form, indeed. However, his arms were too full of pins and needles to dispute it with his wand.
“I have suitable parchment in my study,” Lucius said with a sigh. “Bring the first installment of the Dragon’s Blood resin and we’ll work it out.”
“I have perfectly suitable parchment in my tower,” Severus countered.
Just then, an owl swooped through the open greenhouse door. It dropped a Howler on the ground between the two men, and before Severus could aim, Narcissa’s voice shivered the glass.
“SEVERUS SNAPE! IF YOU HAVE DONE ANYTHING UNTOWARD TO MY EQUAL PARTS CONNIVING AND RIDICULOUSLY BUMBLING SPOUSE, YOUR DRAGON’S BLOOD RESIN WILL BE THE LEAST OF YOUR BELONGINGS THAT I WILL BE CHEWING TO A BLOODY PULP!”
They contemplated the exploded, smoking, red parchment on the floor of the greenhouse. Or rather, Severus did; Lucius was cowering quite as much as the unhappy sentient plants around the Howler’s epicenter.
“Your study it is,” Severus conceded.
Thanks to Sunny33 for reminding me of the necessity of warning labels. :D
Chapter the Second: In Which Hare-Brained Ideas are Committed to Parchment
Chapter the Third: In Which Childbirth Transpires
Chapter the Fourth: In Which Severus Gains an Apprentice...
Chapter the Fifth: ...and Begins Losing His Mind
Chapter the Sixth: ... In Which it is Established that This is a Hairy Situation
Chapter the Seventh: In Which ‘Dracaena Draco,’ etc. Becomes a Household Word
Chapter the Eighth: In Which There Are Queer Developments
Chapter the Ninth: In Which Draco is Blond
Chapter the Tenth: In Which Loopholes are Sought
Chapter the Eleventh: In Which Desperate Measures are Taken
Chapter the Twelfth: In Which Severus Sees More Than He Would Have Preferred
Chapter the Thirteenth: In Which Draco is a Princess
Chapter the Fourteenth: In Which Harry is Awfully Short for a Prince
Chapter the Fifteenth: In Which Draco’s Prince Comes...
Epilogue: In Which Severus is Through With This Sh*t
Comprehensive Fic List