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“Your bloody grandfather was an adonis.”
“My lord?” Draco blinked.
“At first I thought I was a shallow man -- there’s nothing really wrong with that to be honest, look at Walburga she fucked her own cousin -- now that’s crass and shallow, but she liked one thing -- her blood -- and she decided to get it. Her children were morons, of course, but let’s not assume it’s incest that did it in for them.” The irony hung thickly in the air. “I digress. Draco, sit.”
Draco sat on a chair and watched the dark lord warily.
“But your grandfather. Abraxas. My DEAR friend was just so terribly homosexual it was obscene. He hit on me. Repeatedly. And I led him on, Draco. I led him on until he couldn’t take it anymore and found a French number that turned out to be your formidable grandmother. I regret not having sex with that man even now.” Voldemort let out a sigh that Draco would describe as dreamy -- but never for the dark lord, oh no no! So instead Draco would come to see it as Voldemort letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding for over fifty years.
“I’m going to kill Potter.”
“Yes, of course you will, my lord!” Draco said.
“Make the most of that boy before I kill him.” Draco’s eyes bulged. “Be promiscuous once in your life. Who cares if it’s a man you’re after. All those years, all those repressed emotions and thoughts swirling in your mind. Each time you come in for a meeting I have to shield myself from this ONSLAUGHT of Harry Potter related thoughts. I read your father’s mind too to see if I was in the wrong about this before confronting you, but you NEVER shut up about him, Salazar, you never stop thinking about him.”
“My lord he’s my enemy.”
“Draco, come on,” Voldemort scoffed before saying, “I can read minds. Don’t fool yourself.”
Draco opened his mouth and closed it like a fish only to open it again to say. “I am not into men.”
“And I’m not drunk right now because of your thoughts.” Voldemort acciod a bottle of wine and opened it as if to prove a point.
“First your grandfather breaks my heart and now you have to break my steel sense of sobriety.” He took a generous sip, straight from the bottle, etiquette be damned.
“I’m sorry?” Draco said helplessly. He approached Voldemort and patted him on the shoulder twice, muttering. “There, there.”
“I’m just trying so hard.”
“I know you are, my lord.”
“Who fucking goes on a crusade named Voldemort? Why did I even listen to my childhood self oh dear Circe!”
“I’m named Draco, my lord, you fit right in, don’t worry.”
“You don’t even hold a candle to your grandfather’s beauty. I’m so glad Potter’s got you.”
“To be fair, sir, my grandfather did speak often about ‘a lad from Hogwarts who looked so fine it was irredeemable not to say yes to everything he said’.”
Voldemort sniffled. “Oh, that man is making my heart beat even after all this time.”