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[04.04.2023 г.] Zeit, dass wir uns endlich sprechen
Storyteller: Time: April 4, 2023 Place: Irish Hall, Malfoys' residence in Ireland Characters: Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Summary: Yet another fruitless conversation of father and son. Upon hearing of Lucius' being subjected to torture, Draco heads to Irish Hall to, officially, deliver Scorpius to grandfather and, hopefully, to find out the truth behind the unfortunate incident. The episode is going to be written in English with short summaries of every post in Russian. The events described in the episode are naturally derived from the characters' personalities and have, therefore, taken place in the same reality as any other plot event, and, like any other plot event they would be taken into account in subsequent episodes; but as they concern no other characters apart from the above stated and the narration is to be in English, it has been decided to place the episode here. [more]Желаемое название темы: Zeit, dass wir uns endlich sprechen [Перевод: Наконец настало время нам поговорить] Время действия: 4 апреля 2023 Место действия и его примерное описание: Айриш Холл, ирландская резиденция Малфоев Действующие лица: Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Ситуация: Очередной неудавшийся разговор отца и сына. Узнав о том, что Люциуса пытали, Драко направляется в Айриш Холл, чтобы, по официальной версии, передать Скорпиуса под опеку деда и - желательно - разведать правду, скрывающуюся за этим печальным событием. Осторожно: эпизод будет отыгрываться на английском языке с краткими пересказами каждого поста на русском. События, описанные в данном отыгрыше, естественно вытекают из личностей персонажей и, следственно, происходят в той же реальности, что и любое другое событие сюжета, а также будут учитываться в последующих отыгрышах; однако, так как отыгрыш будет вестись на английском, а описываемые события не затрагивают других персонажей, кроме вышеобозначенных, решено было поместить отыгрыш в этом разделе.[/more]
Ответов - 4
Draco Malfoy: Nothing could possibly accelerate my contemplation of my future. Not even the atrocious terrorist act of Death Eaters in January, where I was clearly given to understand that they are as committed as they used to be, to say the least, and willing to go to any extremes, which obviously meant death for the disobedient. Not even the distinct feeling that the Dark Lord has returned, which filled me with incessant fear for my life. Not even the annoying regulations for the former (or presumable) Death Eaters, including myself. Not even the two months of tense consideration of what I have to do under such circumstances. Nothing. Except my father being tortured by Harry Potter. I believe I wasn’t supposed to know it. If my father had any say in that, I would be the last person to know. Strangely, I can’t blame him for if I were him I would definitely conceal such humiliation. Unfortunately for his pride, my mother considered it necessary to inform me about the incident and ask not to deliver Scorpius straight away. What seemed like a good chance to spend another day with my son and probably improve our relationship was turned into an even more intense meditation. I realised my father is far from being heroic: in his right mind, he would never agree to be tortured or inflicted any other harm for no specific purpose, apart from being stubborn or proud. Given an opportunity (and I am sure he was), he would rather drink Veritaserum and confess everything even to the universally hated Harry Potter than, out of pure disobedience, let anybody hurt his pride. Only a cause by far surpassing his sense of self could make him accept anything but telling the truth. His refusal to confess was a clear enough confession to me. I was certain my father was once again supporting the Dark Lord for I could find no other reason that would explain his behaviour fully and consistently. I myself tended to favour the path of a Death Eater rather than a supporter of Potter’s ideas for, whereas both sides were inevitably lethal in case of defeat, only one of them seemed to promise my wealth, status, and power back without having to lose my dignity altogether, in case of victory. It was, of course, a career of a Death Eater. Even if I were to join Harry Potter in his aspiring confrontation with the Dark Lord, it is highly unlikely that, first, anyone of his followers would believe me (and who can blame them), and, second, they wouldn’t dispose of me given the opportunity. I could become a double agent, but that would involve a double risk as well – and I had no particular reason to gamble. I could flee, of course, but even that wouldn’t guarantee my safety, not to mention that it would seriously jeopardise my family should they refuse to become refugees. In any case, supporting the Dark Lord appeared to be the most reasonable choice. However, the problem was that it took me more time to weigh up pros and cons of each variant than the Dark Lord would consider it would have taken a true and loyal Death Eater to join him, which would instantly render me as a spy or, more likely, coward. I feared to imagine the Dark Lord’s attitude towards either of them. Embarrassing though it was, I could now ask my father to help me. Not only could he tell me where the Dark Lord resided, he could put in a good word or two for me as one of his closest, I was sure, advisors. But to convince him to help me was quite another matter. The days when he pandered to my every whim and could demand that the hippogriff that hurt me should be decapitated are long gone. Now I had to plead with him to give me a hand, which was always a great humiliation to me and immense sadistic satisfaction to him, and, consequently, was reduced to an absolute minimum. Unfortunately for me, this time his interference is vital. As all my Apparations are traced by the Ministry, I assumed it would be easier to use the Floo Network. Of course, Scorpius could have got to the Irish Hall by himself – a five-year-old knows how to travel with the Network. The official reason for me to go with him was not merely to assure myself of his safe journey but to visit my dearest mother. Scorpius and I stepped into the bright emerald fire. - Irish Hall. After a few twirls of the chimney we stepped out of the fireplace in the Irish Hall’s sitting room – with a great roar causing my father’s dog Solveig – the only living creature in the whole room – to bark. - Steady, girl, - said I calmly, my hand stretched towards her as a sign of peace and an invitation to come near me and get the usual amount of stroking. – I think I hear your grandfather coming down the stairs, - I turned to Scorpius. – Why don’t you meet him? I’ll join you shortly. The room required a certain amount of cleaning as the ashes from the fireplace covered the carpet and the adjacent armchairs. My traveling cloak, as well as my originally blond hair was ash-grey and needed sweeping. After performing the necessary simple procedures, I could finally stroke Solveig on the back and scratch her neck. Strangely, this dog didn’t share my father’s attitude towards me, which somewhat brightened my rare visits to him. I didn’t rush into any conclusions about it, however: my father might as well obtain a tender dog that wouldn’t deprive anyone of its love, even me. I heard the thrill and, surprisingly, smile in my father’s voice as he met Scorpius, which made me involuntarily sigh and roll up my eyes. I heard them approaching and stood up unwillingly when they entered the room. - Good day, father, - I said rather coldly. – I’m glad to see you… - I paused deliberately, looking at him from head to toe in an examining way. – … in good health, - I pressed the last words a bit so that he would understand that I am fully aware of the torture, whereas my direct grave look was meant to give him the impression that I intended to discuss the incident. пересказ: Драко и Скорпиус прибывают в Айриш Холл на день позже, так как Нарцисса решила предупредить сына о том, что только накануне Люциус подвергся пыткам в Министерстве. Для Драко тот факт, что Люциус предпочёл пытки любому другому варианту допроса, ясно свидетельствовал о том, что Люциус вновь примкнул к Пожирателям Смерти. Сам он провёл долгие два месяца, взвешивая все «за» и «против» каждого возможного варианта действий: придя к выводу, что, хотя каждый из вариантов смертельно опасен, только принятие стороны Тёмного Лорда сулит ему возвращение власти, богатства и социального статуса в случае победы, он понял, что рассуждал слишком долго и теперь его едва ли охотно примут в Пожиратели Смерти, сочтя шпионом или трусом. Теперь же, как бы унизительно это ни было, он намеревался просить помощи у отца. Драко и Скорпиус воспользовались каминной сетью, так как все трансгрессии Драко отслеживались. В сущности, Драко было не обязательно сопровождать Скорпиуса, каминная сеть достаточно проста в обращении; однако он якобы решил позаботиться о безопасном путешествии сына и заодно навестить мать. В гостиной собака Люциуса, Сольвейг, встречает их громким лаем. Драко посылает Скорпиуса навстречу деду, сам же остаётся в гостиной, чтобы чуть избавиться от пепла на ковре и своей одежде, а также поприветствовать Сольвейг. Люциус и Скорпиус вошли в гостиную, а Драко нехотя встал им навстречу. - Здравствуй, отец. Приятно видеть тебя в добром здравии, - сказал он, осмотрев Люциуса с головы до ног, так, чтобы тот понял, что Драко известно о пытке.
Lucius Malfoy: Although Narcissa kept insisting on postponing Scorpius' arrival due to my, as she put it, 'terrifyingly undermined health condition', I, in my turn, realized perfectly that this would be the only way to distract me from my feverish hesitation and, therefore, to make me come to my senses at last. Actually, in what way would silent walks around the estate or distressful thinking in the armchair near to the fireplace help me find the way out of that vicious circle I have just found myself inside of? That empty, pointless day of 3rd of April appeared to be nothing of a help. It brought me nothing but enormous amount of reflection, and still I did not feel able to come to any sensible decision on how to defend myself from the scarred usurper's vile insinuations and yet not to put myself in danger by betraying any of the military secrets the Dark Lord has trusted me with. I knew perfectly well that Potter wouldn't stop here. I knew that someday his envoy would certainly knock upon my door and summon me to another interrogation. What I could only hope for now was that after that pain syncope of mine the Head of Auror Office will at least become frightened of accidentally killing me on the spot and will not use those inhuman measures again, being satisfied with my answers. But that hope was too slender even to take it into account. Of course, he had no faith in me; all my oaths meant absolutely nothing to him, and I knew that next time he would offer me the choice between the two evils - Veritaserum and Cruciatus Curse - once more. Perhaps, I could purchase some against-veritaserum amulet, but then my sudden consent could arouse even more suspicion... Trying to find some fortunate loophole in my seemingly desperate situation, I was, contrariwise, becoming even more convinced that all my endeavors would remain fruitless and the inquisitions unavoidable. However, it was surely not Potter's astuteness that made him try to penetrate into my secrets with such conscious brutality. He was just scared to death by what was happening in the world around him; unable to do anything really useful and prudent without wise advice of his long-dead allies from the previous war and already forced to make at least some mature decisions by the society naively waiting for the Chosen to save the day again, he was trying to demonstrate - to the others, or, even more likely, to himself - some illusion of action, but could offer them all nothing but pure speculation… or some fabricated confessions beaten out of, for instance, me. Undoubtedly, in my case he did not miss his aim, as he did usually, only by mere chance - that was why he did not hurry to announce everything publicly. I could swear that he had no proof of my guilt at all and was just looking for a scapegoat, the role of which I was now so conveniently compelled to perform. I could try to notify 'The Prophet' of this disgusting incident, undermining Potter's authority, just as I planned, but my schemes could turn out unsuccessful when accomplished too early and even such horrible humiliation would not guarantee a release then. To conclude, I was firmly stuck in the Bermuda triangle between my pride, urge for safety and ideological position, although it had nothing to do with any ephemeral virtues of Mr. Potter as a crime investigator. And all of this would be nothing near so odious and humiliating, if only Harry Potter did not seem to be the only person to actually believe in my innocence twenty years ago - and now, in times of trouble, was not the first one to take his words back and cast the stone without any adequate justification... Merlin, I definitely needed rest. I needed something to think about apart from my instinct of self-preservation and recent indignities. I needed to stop reliving the memories of the interrogation with masochistic revengeful self pity and try to concentrate on something different. I needed to see Scorpius. I haven't seen him, as it seemed, for ages - since that Death Eaters' attack in January - and missed him. Moreover, that shocking appearance of the famous Lily Luna in her father's office during my interrogation and her rather intriguing conception of our families' common future made me realize that, actually, quite a lot had passed unnoticed under my very nose whilst I was engaged in my clandestine business. Although I was uncertain about what I should do if her words would turn out even slightly truthful so far, I wanted to observe Scorpius myself and, probably (with great pleasure), become convinced of the girl's talking utter nonsense. Thus I finally managed to persuade my highly attentive spouse not to worry for, if something could make me feel worse, it was certainly not my grandson coming for a short visit. And today I was looking forward to him coming at last. I was just in my study examining the new 'Prophet', when a loud roaring sound, which has always been one of the few Floo Network's disadvantages, signalized of the guest's arrival. Straight away I put the newspaper aside, got up and headed downstairs, to the drawing room - to meet Scorpius half-way, already coming toward me across the hall. - Welcome, dear, - said I rather calmly and ceremoniously, yet smiling and patting his shoulder tenderly: nothing, even the decorums, could hide my elation now. - I'm very pleased to see you at last. Sandra! - called I for my housemaid roughly. - Take the suitcase of young Mr. Malfoy to his room and make sure everything is in the best possible way there. Go, make haste now. Let's go back to the drawing room now, if you don't mind, - addressed I my grandson again, changing the tone back. - Your grandmother and I are keen to listen about your school life. Are you hungry? Sandra will make us tea and could bring you something to eat... as well. The pause appeared in my speech as I entered the drawing room - and experienced questionable pleasure of contemplating the figure of my dearest son, rising to his feet after petting my dog Solveig. The usual expression of obvious displeasure and disappointment slowly wiped the smile out of my face, though I made a feeble attempt not to show it, primarily, to Scorpius for it would be beastly if I myself biased him against his father. Anyway, if this occurred, there would be little of my fault here for Draco himself did not command much respect with all his constant doubts and vacillations. I hadn't got the faintest idea of why Draco was escorting an adult wizard to the place where no one could ever cause him any harm thanks to my impervious protection, - especially when concidering the fact that he himself was under shelter of my devotion for the Dark Lord, safe from choice due to my efforts and my suffering too, by the way... Still he could not appreciate it for he hardly knew about the torture - and that was for good reason. But then Draco spoke, and some specific emphasis in his phrase made me feel uncomfortable. - Likewise, - responded I rather wryly, yet trying to sound welcoming at the same time (and obviously failing). - Solveig, at trail! I guess, your mother must have heard you arriving; she will be here soon, if it is her you wish to attend. пересказ: Люциусу удалось, наконец, убедить обеспокоенную жену в том, что приезд внука никак не отразится на его довольно серьезно подорванном пытками здоровье. Сам он ждет от этого визита своеобразного спасения от постоянных лихорадочных поисков выхода из сложившейся ситуации - поисков, которые пока не увенчались успехом. Люциус понимает, что Поттер не оставит его в покое, хотя вряд ли имеет какие-то реальные доказательства его виновности и наверняка, как обычно, тыкает пальцем в небо, создавая тем самым иллюзию активной деятельности. Естественно, не желая подвергаться поттеровским пыткам вторично, Малфой, тем не менее, по-прежнему не имеет права согласиться на чистосердечное признание под действием Сыворотки Правды. Не кажется выходом и огласка произошедшего в прессе: Люциус планирует когда-нибудь ославить Поттера на весь магический мир, но сейчас еще не время, ведь репутация Главы Аврората пока вполне чиста – и статья в «Пророке» будет грозить только новым унижением самому Малфою. Самым же гнусным кажется Люциусу то, что Поттер ни в грош не ставит сейчас свое собственное ходатайство о помиловании 20летней давности, первым лишая род Малфоев доверия и таким образом объявляя ему войну. Еще одна проблема, занимающая Люциуса – Лили, заявившая о своих отношениях с его внуком. Впрочем, о ней он пока раздумывал мало, уверенный в том, что при встрече не обнаружит в поведении Скорпиуса ни единой черты взаимной влюбленности. Услышав рев камина, извещающий о прибытии гостя, Люциус спешит ему навстречу, на время забывая обо всех свалившихся на его голову невзгодах. Впрочем, эйфория охватывает его ненадолго: войдя в гостиную, он видит Драко, вспоминает, что ради этой мятущейся души в частности принимает неимоверные муки, и проникается к сыну новой волной презрения. В то же время слова Драко заставляют Люциуса почувствовать себя некомфортно, хотя он пока не желает осознавать, почему. - Взаимно, - кисло ответил Люциус, попутно отзывая собаку командой. – Полагаю, твоя мать должна была услышать, как вы прибыли; она скоро будет здесь, в случае если ты желал посетить именно ее.
Draco Malfoy: For some reason, observing the usual expression of distaste replace the smile on my father’s face gave me immense though dark pleasure. The nature of it, however, was obscure to me at the moment: I could not decide whether I learned to consider his rancour to be the result of my revengeful intention to contradict him – and, hence, enjoy it; or, knowing only too well that I am unable to overcome the deep-seated fear of being a disappointment to my father, I was sneeringly pushing myself to feel that childhood fear of mine. It was only on reflection that I realised what was the true source of my pleasure. If knowledge indeed be power, I felt genuinely empowered by the information I was not meant to possess. The superiority of my being in the know was so tremendous I even began to rejoice at what I would usually feel bitter about. Under new circumstances my father’s regular reaction appeared rather amusing to me: not only did I know that his bravado was feigned throughout, I rather looked forward to watching him change his countenance once again upon grasping the true implication of my words. As was his habit, he gave me no such satisfaction. I knew not whether he could not comprehend the insinuation or, understanding both the sense and the intention, he still would rather die than discuss the matter with me. Whatever the case, his words didn’t give away the faintest inclination to prolong our conversation: he hastened to withdraw Solveig from me and refer to my mother, clearly pointing out to me that I am not welcome here. I forced a faint and rather wry smile: even though I had initially intended to treat the matter delicately, the reception far from being hospitable made me change my mind. Besides, hardly anything could sweeten the pill of an essentially unpleasant discussion looming ahead. – Coyness doesn’t become you, father, – I felt confident enough to dare sound sarcastic. – Do not deem yourself unworthy of my visit, – I leaned against one of the armchairs and crossed my arms across my chest, still looking directly into my father’s eyes in an attempt to catch the moment of enlightenment. – My design was to discuss some urgent problem that has occurred, – a short pause while I was searching for a more suitable expression, – the other day. This business, of course, will require some privacy. Scorpius, – I turned to my son, – would you mind going upstairs to inform your grandmother you’ve arrived safe and sound? Кто владеет информацией, владеет миром. Вот и Драко внезапно ощутил, как знание о недавнем инциденте меняет его восприятие ситуации: выражение пренебрежения, которым встретил его отец, теперь доставляет ему удовольствие. Драко не только прекрасно понимает, что бравада отца совершенно напускная, но и с нетерпением ожидает, когда эта бравада даст трещину, как только отец поймёт на что Драко ему намекает. Люциус, однако, не доставил Драко такого удовольствия, то ли не понимая намёка, то ли намеренно избегая обсуждения инцидента с сыном. Его холодный приём заставляет Драко перестать ходить вокруг да около и скорее перейти к делу. - Скромность тебе не к лицу, отец, - Драко настолько уверен в себе, что не боится звучать саркастично. – Не стоит считать, что ты недостоин моего визита, - Драко облокотился на кресло, скрестив руки на груди и не сводя взгляда с отца, пытаясь поймать момент прозрения. – Я намеревался обсудить с тобой проблему, возникшую на днях (Драко делает перед этим набольшую паузу, подыскивая более удачное выражение) и не терпящую отлагательств. Но, конечно, это строго конфиденциально. Скорпиус, - Драко повернулся к сыну, - будь любезен, поднимись к бабушке, чтобы она удостоверилась, что ты жив и здоров.
Lucius Malfoy: Though it might have seemed otherways, I wasn’t actually dissimulating when counting it improbable that Draco’s visit was now addressed specifically to me. If there were times when our relationship could have been called confidential and even close, they were undoubtedly long gone: fortunately for all the things connected with that rather unpleasant period of our family’s life I was genuinely happy to leave behind, but, at the same time, unfortunately for the never-realized in our case classical view of ideal aristocratic family. I would not take any pleasure in guessing whose fault exactly it was, however; neither would I strive desperately and ignominiously to change anything. Many years ago I just made myself accept our mutual scornful desire to break away from each other – for any attempt of communication was inevitably becoming nothing save a constant reminder of our common humiliating pain and shame of the past – and fulfilled it immediately, almost without regret, as, I was completely sure, my son himself did for the sake of freedom and oblivion. Since that time Narcissa, the only person in our family not deeming exposure of feelings discreditable, was obviously alone in welcoming Draco at Irish Hall – so there was nothing extraordinary in how I reacted to his sudden arrival. What appeared now more astonishing is my son's real intentions; which, after some of his more than transparent hints, I unvoluntarily began to grip. "The problem that has occurred the other day"? Well, nicely formulated indeed, dear, I myself could not have done it more eloquently and evasively. Although I was not really intending to get in any way distracted from a long-awaited communication with a by far more interesting guest, it seemed that Draco had another opinion on the subject and wouldn't let me ignore his wish to have an urgent serious talk (unless I wanted Scorpius to be in the know), topic of which didn't have to be guessed long now. Yesterday - obviously not consulting with me beforehand - my wife, apparently, counted it prudent to trust our son with the revelation of me suffering a certain misfortune and now Draco's design was to have a conversation concerning this particular matter (though any logical goal he pursued remained a mystery to me). Still, I didn't let myself look startled even for a slightest moment. Come on, did you really expect me to give you the same humiliating satisfaction I was weak enough to give Mr. Potter a blink before he began the torture the other day? Oh, do not try to go over your head and be contended with that I at least leave your impertinent sarcastic words unnoticed, just unwilling to disparage you in front of your son, who is, by the way, still here with us. Having remarked that Scorpius was indeed not moving, but stood on the spot looking me in the eye and obviously waiting for the affirmation of Draco's order, I shrugged and nodded to him shortly with a specific condescending face expression that could have been interpreted as something like "What does your father tell you? Listen to him, of course, I'm not going to contradict him now - though I definitely could if I wanted to". I followed him with my eyes as he silently passed by me out of the drawing room; and only having made sure that the sound of his steps has faded away at the stairs, I turned back to Draco. - Let us hope that the subject you are disturbing me with at the moment is going to be really entertaining, - snapped I with an arrogant grin, easing myself in one of the armchairs for a cosy little talk coming, as if I didn't really guess the point of it, and thus forcing my son to search the suitable expressions himself. Solveig lay on the carpet by my right arm, and I began to stroke her neck absently, having lowered my hand from the elbow. - Go on, take a seat, do not be shy; I yearn to hear you out. Though I was absolutely not pleased with the situation I had to tolerate now, I was really uncertain which one of us must have felt more uncomfortable about it: I, who had been able to endure the pain with as much dignity as possible and had nothing to be ashamed of, or Draco, who was very likely standing in Harry Potter's long queue of suspects and was still safe and sound due to the interrogator being luckily occupied with me, and due to it only. This malevolent thought strangely improved my mood. I even got an impression that the situation was much more bearable than it seemed at the first time. перевод: Люциус отнюдь не кривил душой, когда подвергал сомнению то, что визит Драко был нанесен сейчас именно ему. Уже очень давно их отношения были далеки от идеальных, и, хотя старший Малфой понимал это не без тайного сожаления, поделать с этим ничего было нельзя, так как любое общение превращалось для обоих лишь в болезненное напоминание о постыдных ошибках прошлого. Тем более удивительным казалось сейчас желание Драко обсудить проблему, которая, казалось бы, должна была мало интересовать его. Постепенно начиная догадываться о ее сути, несмотря на все нежелание отвлекаться от общения с внуком, Люциус, естественно, не доставил Драко удовольствия наблюдать свое замешательство. Боясь, однако, что, не будь должная приватность достигнута, сын начнет обсуждение прямо при Скорпиусе, что уж было бы совсем недопустимо, Люциус кивком подтверждает распоряжение тому отправиться наверх, к Нарциссе, а сам, дождавшись ухода внука, с нарочитым спокойствием усаживается в кресло. - Надеюсь, то, чем ты меня сейчас собираешься побеспокоить, обещает быть действительно увлекательным, - раздраженно бросил он с надменной усмешкой. Сольвейг легла на ковре по правую руку от него, и Малфой начал рассеянно ее гладить. - Давай, присаживайся, не стесняйся; я просто жажду тебя выслушать. Хотя удовольствие от предстоящего разговора Люциус испытывал сомнительное, он не был уверен, кто же из них должен был сейчас испытывать больший дискомфорт: он, перенесший пытку с максимально возможным достоинством и не обязанный ничего стыдиться, или же Драко, который наверняка уже стоял в длинной очереди подозреваемых Поттера и был защищен только до поры, пока тот был слишком увлечен допросами его отца. После этой злорадной мысли ситуация даже странным образом показалась старшему Малфою более переносимой.
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