"No, most rapists don't think that they are. Ain't that right, Lucius?"
                              
Narcissa gasped and stared at her husband. Lucius didn't respond.
                              
"Oh yeah, Draco told me about that. It wasn't unnatural enough apparently for you to fuck him. I thought incest was even more... immoral."
                              
She whispered. "Lucius... you didn't...."
                              
"No... he's just lying...."
                              
"No, I'm not. You were trying to correct him, weren't you?" Harry growled, feeling stronger than he had in years.
                              
"Purebloods cannot be homosexuals. He had to see what would happen if the Dark Lord found out about his proclivities."
                              
"So, Tom was a fag-hater, too?"
                              
"Do not address the Dark Lord like that!" he screeched.
                              
"Or what?" Harry spat. "He's dead. You're dead, Lucius, and the Death Eater stain on our society is dead. You all were wrong... so fucking wrong. So... full of hate."
                              
"Alas, the Savior speaks... but the day will come that...."
                              
"What, Lucius? You hate-mongers are broken, defeated. Even at your best... you couldn't defeat love and righteous. Guess how many pureblood families are left after the war? You broke yourselves."
                              
"We will rise, again!"
                              
Harry turned, but stopped. "You know... Draco said that they tortured everyone. I don't think that they left you alone, out of the evilness in their hearts... did they? You didn't kill yourself because Draco was hurt. No... you gave up because you couldn't handle it."
                              
Lucius was shaking in anger.
                              
"That's it, isn't it? Normally, I wouldn't mock a victim... but Lu... your son is so much better than you are. Maybe he can bring your family name out of the pile of shit that you left it in."
                              
"Potter...."
                              
"I wouldn't push your luck, Malfoy. I might decide to find a sledgehammer and make sure that you can never hurt Draco, again. I'll be back to decide your fate, when Draco is ready to come back home. So, you best think about your actions and words."
                              
"You dare...."
                              
"I don't need to dare. You-are-a-painting. Your immorality is in my hands, Lu. I don't think that Draco will care if you're gone," Harry growled and turned to Narcissa. "I suggest you talk to him, if you want him around, but I won't let him hurt his son anymore."
                              
"I will try... when you see Draco... tell him... I love him and I'm sorry," she said.
                              
Harry nodded. "I will."
                              
Harry gave the elder Malfoy a glare before he walked back out to the courtyard. He gave the deserted, empty manor another look, before Apparating to Ron and Hermione's house.
                              
"Harry! We weren't expecting you!" Hermione said, when she greeted him at the door and let him into the kitchen. "Ron's putting the kids down for a nap."
                              
"Okay, but I just came from Draco's house."
                              
"Harry, I said that...."
                              
"I got his permission, relax. McGrath did it, Hermione. You remember the photo? The shadow on the ground?"
                              
Ron came in from the den. "Yeah?"
                              
"Hermione... his house faces east! He took the photo in the morning... and waited for him to die!"
                              
She gasped. "I can't believe I missed that...."
                              
"Well, it was lunchtime when you went, but I took some blood off the window that Draco went out of, if you want to analyze it. I also found his wheelchair, shrunk in the attic." He handed her the evidence bags.