Chapter 2

Lucius Malfoy's morning started like usual.

Then, he got a nasty surprise at breakfast.

His house elves were suddenly wearing clothes.

The little abominations were clad in little red robes that were adorned with a big golden M on their left chests and an even bigger golden M on their backs.

The elves were also wearing little leather boots.

„What is going on here? You elves plan to rebel?"

Lucius thundered and pulled his wand.

The house elves immediately cowered fearfully before his wrath.

At least this was still normal.

The elves were all frozen in fear.

All, except for one.

One elf crawled to Lucius' feet and looked at him with a shine in its disgusting bulging eyes.

„Master Luscious, Young Master Dragon ordered us to wear this. We would never rebel against the Noble House of Malfoy. Especially Flobby, Flobby is a good elf, that wants to serve House Malfoy until Flobby's death. But it could be good to discipline us house elves anyway, lest the Young Master's generosity goes to their heads."

Damn house elves always calling him „Luscious".

He should really discipline them.

But did that elf just say that this was Draco's idea?

Since when did his son care about these lowly creatures?

Lucius really hoped there was some kind of misunderstanding.

Empathy was poison for powerful lords, standing at the top of wizarding society.

And for successful business wizards, too.

Hopefully his son hadn't developed this weakness.

Lucius waved his wand.

Suddenly, the floor in front of the house elves was covered in needles.

„Kneel!"

Lucius ordered coldly and the elves obeyed immediately.

Their disgusting faces twisted in pain but they made no peep.

Only one of the elves started breathing a little heavily.

It was the elf that had reported to him earlier, that weird Flobby.

Lucius shot the elf a dark look.

The elf shuddered under Lucius' gaze.

Its oversized pupils dilated even more.

Lucius turned away from the disgusting creature, and waited for his son.

„Serve breakfast and bring me my paper. Then kneel in the needles again."

Lucius' orders were swiftly followed, and soon, he had the Prophet in one hand and a cup of steaming tea in the other.

The tea calmed him a little, but the Firebolt ad in the corner of the Prophet's front page immediately reinforced his displeasure.

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A few pages in, there was even a report about the ongoing quidditch world cup, where it highlighted the fact that every team that had made it past the qualifications exclusively used Firebolt brooms.

Lucius was so displeased about this, because he was a shareholder of Nimbus, the rival of the Firebolt broom company.

Nimbus was losing a lot of market shares, which meant Lucius was losing a lot of gold.

Lucius hated losing gold.

When his son Draco finally appeared at the breakfast table, Lucius' mood was at its worst.

Lucius put his paper down and looked at his son attentively.

Their eyes met, and Draco held his gaze for a long moment.

It seemed Draco was really happy to see him, as if they hadn't seen each other for years and not just yesterday.

Then, his son's gaze wandered over the elves, kneeling in needles.

„Good morning, father."

Draco's expression was completely calm as he sat down and started his breakfast.

With the grace, poise and table manners of a noble lord, Draco buttered his toast and sipped his hot chocolate.

„Good morning, son."

Lucius nodded appreciatively at Draco`s conduct, but his expression remained serious.

Since his son didn't breach the subject of the house elves, Lucius did it without hesitation.

„So, what is going on with the house elves, Draco?"

Lucius gestured to the hurting house elves, kneeling in the needles.

„I don't know. But it appears to me that you are damaging Malfoy property needlessly again, father."

Draco replied calmly.

„What?"

Lucius was confused, „No. I meant, why are the house elves wearing clothes? Are you trying to release them?"

„Don't worry. I'm not releasing them. I told the elves to make themselves uniforms that will remain in our possession."

„Why?"

Lucius pressed on.

„Because I'm tired of looking at these dirty house elves clad in rags. If the servants of our house look worse than a begging hag or a homeless werewolf, I think it's a disgrace for House Malfoy."

Draco presented a convincing argument with the casual self-confidence Lucius had always wished to see in his son.

But something still rubbed Lucius the wrong way.

„What did you mean by saying I'm damaging Malfoy property needlessly? Did you mean the elves?"

„Yes. I just don't understand why you treat them so roughly and always damage them. You would neither treat our pegasi this way, nor our books, so why them?"

Draco asked seriously.

„Because these creatures need to be disciplined or they forget their place."

Lucius said with conviction.

Draco sighed.

Either Lucius had learnt to treat the house elves horribly from his parents, just like Draco had been taught himself since he was little, ingraining it into his mind.

That would be tough to rectify, since it had taken Draco years of suffering and two horrible wars to finally completely rid himself of the callous disregard he had always held for others, especially those people and beings Draco had been taught to look down upon since his birth.

Or Lucius was hurting the house elves so frequently to deal with his trauma from the last war, where Lucius had been treated by Voldemort the same way he was treating the house elves now.

In this case it would still be very challenging to get his father to change his ways, but it would be a little easier, Draco reckoned.

„I don't think house elves are prone to forget their place at all. That's not in their nature. How about you try to reduce your punishments for the house elves to the times when they really make mistakes or misbehave?"

Draco thought it was best to try to start small with his traditional father, who was so set in his ways.

„They are my house elves. I can treat them however I want."

Lucius was obviously uncomfortable and unhappy with his son trying to tell him how to treat his servants.

„They are. And you can."

Draco acknowledged and held his father's piercing gaze.

That calmed Lucius and he told Draco he would think about it.

Draco hinted to his father to let the house elves stop kneeling in the needles.

Lucius followed his suggestion and both of them let the subject rest for now.

Too much pressure and his father would turn in the other direction.

Draco knew his father.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, but fortunately his mother arrived soon and joined them at the table.

„Why are the house elves wearing Gryffindor colors?"

That was Narcissa's first question after the greetings.

How typical for his mother to zero in on this aspect.

Draco grinned.

„What colors would suit the servants of our House better than Gryffindor colors?"

Draco answered with a rhetorical question and laughed.

Narcissa smiled and even Lucius' mouth twitched.

Draco was far too wise and experienced to still think others less because of their Hogwarts house, but he still thought it was funny.

Furthermore, he knew it would appeal to his parents.

„Good choice. It really suits them. The elves are looking a little less ugly now. What are your plans for today, Draco?"

His mother asked, changing the topic.

„I haven't decided yet."

Draco replied.

„Don't forget, Crabbe and Goyle are coming this afternoon with their sons."

Lucius reminded him.

Draco nodded and smiled, actually looking forward to seeing his two childhood friends again.

In his first life, his friendships with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle didn't end well.

In the end, they chose Voldemort over him, but he couldn't really fault them for that, since he was the one who led them on this path and then chickened out last minute.

Additionally, Draco had to acknowledge that he had not been a good friend to them, always only treating them as lackeys without showing them any appreciation or respect at all.

Draco decided to treat them right this time.