Summary: The war has taken its toll on Lucius and his family, and now he must sacrifice one more part of his life. This story was submitted for the 2013 Lucius Big Bang.
I would like to thank Laurielover1912, capcomplover, gilly_sirl, and about 5 other HP-loving strikevictims /strike innocents who don't read fanfiction - much love & thanks to all of them! And, of course, many thanks to Lucius, without whom I wouldn't have been able to write this story!
I do not make any claim to Lucius Malfoy (alas, his JKR's baby), but Circe is all mine.
It was late and most of the inhabitants of the Manor were asleep or out raiding. Using the hidden passageways of his home, Lucius made his way to the oldest set of dungeons. He carefully and quietly approached the door of the small room that was deep in the cellar of the Manor. Pausing, he inhaled deeply as if gathering his courage. His hands fisted and then relaxed as he slowly exhaled.
The earlier Death Eater meeting had been one of the worst yet. The combined catastrophes of Azkaban, the loss of his wand, the debacle with Potter and his bloody friends, and now the murdered goblins, all hung heavily on him. Malfoy's hands shook as he slid the ancient key into the lock, and then carefully opened the door just enough so that he could sidle through the space. If he was caught, he would have too much explaining to do and he hadn't the heart for it.
Once he shut the door the space was pitch black. He could hear labored, thick breathing. His heart clenched. Inhaling deeply, he stood straight and pulled the small flame out of his jacket. The warm orange color flared and he winced as he saw the Dark Lord's guest, Lucius' cousin, his lovely Squib cousin, Circe.
He found himself searching for the last shreds of his inner strength, pulling on memories from happier days.
Lucius checked his pocket to see if the set of potions he had brewed were still there. They were. Relief flowed through him.
Lucius padded towards Circe's prone figure, cringing each time she took a breath. Settling on the floor, he pulled her unconscious form to him so that she was cradled in his arms.
The man buried his fingers in the woman's long, silvery blonde hair, now tangled and dirty, at the base of her neck. Her face, like the rest of her, was beaten and bloody. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Most worrisome, however, was the fact that his cousin's breathing was rough and thick.
Lucius had been creeping into the dungeon in the dead of night over the past several days to minister healing potions to her for her internal injuries. Thankfully, Fenrir had been denied the one thing that he wanted most-she was not a werewolf yet. Unfortunately, the Snatcher had used her horribly in his anger at being denied her blood.
Bella had practiced her most powerful Cruciatus spells, well spiced with hate and resentment, festering since childhood, towards the "Malfoy Darling," as she spitefully labeled the woman.
For a moment, Lucius' eyes watered and he angrily scrubbed at them with a hand, his breath hitching painfully. He stilled and controlled his breathing. Then, gently pushing her hair away from her face, he looked down upon her. Sleeping, she shifted and seemed to relax, snuggling into the warmth of his lap. She didn't belong here.
He whispered softly, "Why did you leave, Cir? You were supposed to be in Salem, far from the Dark Lord's reach. What were you thinking? Why were you with those Bloodtraitors and the other members of the Order? I cannot believe you were so reckless, you silly thing." He gently traced the outline of her face with his finger. "You know what the Dark Lord is like. He uses anything to keep his followers in line. Oh, Circe, you reckless woman."
Lucius' lips thinned as the last of these thoughts flitted through his mind.
For a long time he simply watched and listened to her, wondering if every bubbling breath was going to be her last and comforting her when she murmured feverishly.
For a little while, he gently stroked her face, humming some of the melodies he used to sing to Draco when his son was an infant. If he concentrated he could smell her faded perfume and even her own scent through the blood and violence. He used Legilimency to soothe her sleep, keeping the nightmares at bay. He had attempted to do the same while she was tortured, but it had been difficult with the Dark Lord's attention cast upon him. Voldemort laughed at Lucius' obvious pain, taunting and mocking him. For a brief moment, the wizard wondered if the Dark Lord knew of these nocturnal visits to his cousin and ignored them, simply so that Bella could undo all of the healing done overnight. He grimaced at that probable thought.
Lucius' mind drifted to happier times when they were younger, free and perhaps more innocent, well, as innocent as Malfoys could be.
Lucius gently took Circe's arm and inspected the large gashes Bella had made. The crazy bitch liked her knife just a little too much. The wizard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jar. Opening it and dipping his finger in, he smeared the ointment onto the gashes, starting on her arm before moving to her face.
Circe gasped and started to bolt upright, and then whimpered in pain with the movement. "No!"
"Shhh...shh... be still, Circe. You're safe for now. I'm here." The wizard pulled her close to him.
"Lucius?" Her voice was broken and harsh from her endless screaming earlier.
"Yes, love. It's Lucius." He brightened the small flame just a tad so that she could see him more easily. Her hand weakly grasped him arm. Her grey-blue eyes, so like his own, gleamed dully in the weak light. His heart clenched as he remembered other, happier times when they sparkled and private times when they darkened in passion.
"Lucius, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I heard that you'd been taken. I had to come back-"
"No, shh...I should be apologizing. You were right in front of me..." He clumsily pawed her hair, only stopping when she winced. "Everything is fine." He awkwardly pulled her closer to him, which she allowed although she hissed in pain.
She buried her face in his neck and said thickly, "No, you couldn't risk it, you had to protect them. We have to keep them safe."
"How do you feel tonight?"
"It hurts. Everything hurts. It hurts to breath, to move. I can't feel...I think...I think...he did something when he-" She started to cry weakly.
"Shh...shh...don't think about it. I made some potions to heal you...everywhere." He rocked her as she sobbed softly. "Please let me remove the memories...so you can rest." He added the rest of the statement rather weakly, his guilt and helplessness starting to crash over him. He could feel the anxiety rising up that had been dogging him since his failure at the Ministry of Magic. He clutched her just a little bit tighter.
She fell back to her uneasy sleep after he managed to remove the day's memories. He flung them into the puddle in the corner of the cell, where they glowed and then dimmed. He gently rocked her.
She woke a little bit later, gasping as ragged remains of her nightmares chased each other through her mind.
Circe started to argue with Lucius in her roughened, wheezy voice when he attempted to give her the potions.
"No, Lucius, no more. Please, I cannot beg you anymore, please end this for me. Just bring her home. She's safe now, Lucius. Find her when this is done. Please..."
He couldn't answer. He could only gather her against him once more. Rocking her, as he used to do for another.
She felt wet against her face. Her hand rose weakly to clutch a lock of lank, blond hair. She wrapped her fingers around it, remembering how she used to tangle her fingers through it when they were alone.
She tried to think of other things and then gently tugged on his hair. "Cousin, you look almost as bad as I feel. Has Cissy refused you access to shampoo?" She whispered raggedly.
For a heartbeat there was silence, and then he snorted. "No, madam, we have shampoo. In fact, you have need of it yourself, and when this is over, I shall see that you receive a through scrubbing."
"Ah, there he is. My Lucius. Haughty and beautiful." She weakly rubbed her cheek against his jawline. "I like the stubble. Alas, the room lacks a bed-"
A low, sad chuckle rumbled from him. "You're incorrigible, cousin. A true Malfoy. But I won't have it said that I ignored a request from a woman in need." His lips were warm against the cool skin of her neck, then the sensitive place below her ear, and finally her lips.
"It's been so long, Circe. Gods, I need you. You don't understand what Azkaban was like. I had to hide my happy memories of you to keep them. I spent a year reliving all the wrongs I had done to you, Draco, Isis, and Cissy... simply to remember you, to stay sane. Don't leave me. I cannot do this. You cannot ask this of me. It is too much." He whispered into her cheek.
"I claimed you first, before that woman, always remember that." Her hand scrabbled against his waistcoat, and then tucked itself against the fine cotton of his shirt. Her ice-cold fingers leeched the warmth away from his body.
She felt his fingers rub the back of her head in the way that she liked, and she felt herself start to relax.
"Yes, Circe, you did, but I'm the oldest and the head of the clan, so you must always listen to me."
She sighed, and then whispered, "Lucius, you always pull out that card. But you know...you know what you have to do. It hurts, Lucius. Make it stop."
"No. I cannot. Not you." She could hear the tension in his voice, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. Her Lucius was at his breaking point. She changed tack, attempting to influence him through logic.
"Lucius, he's going to toy with me and then kill me. We both know it. Every day it's more difficult to survive it. You cannot keep sneaking down here, pouring potions down my throat, and surreptitiously casting the Legilimens at me. And at some point, I'm going to betray you or you'll be found out. I almost did today. Bella's always hated me and today was the worst so far. What will Bella do tomorrow? What if Bella realizes you're protecting me? What if she finds out-" Silence fell in the small, damp chamber as she abruptly cut herself off.
"Bella won't find out." Desperation leaked out of him, as he countered her.
But Circe pressed on, "Isis will be in danger and so will you. You won't be able to protect her if you are dead. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to either of you. How will you keep me from screaming our secret to the entire chamber? Even if your potion works, and if I survive him, I'll be a bedridden squib. What a gem to the Malfoy name..."
Lucius desperately offered an alternative. "I'll remove the memories. I'll put them in the Malfoy pensieve. Or I'll Obliviate them. This way you won't be able to betray her."
"Oh, sweetheart...if I survive, you'll curse me with not being able to remember our daughter. Merlin, you were always the romantic..." She laughed weakly at her own joke and then started to cough. Blood speckled her lips.
Lucius' voice rose in desperation to a harsh scraping sound, as he clutched her to him, not hearing her whimper of pain, "No. I'll give your memories back. Stop being dramatic. Do not make me do this. I cannot. Not you. I've loved you since...forever. You were supposed to be my wife, not her. No, I cannot...Please, Circe, do not ask me this."
"Oh, sweetheart, I love you, but you're most selfish bastard sometimes. You're with Cissa now. You made the Unbreakable Vow to protect me, Lucius. This is the only way to protect me. You know this. Because of the Dark Lord, you were hurt today through the vow, too. He'll find out that you are casting a counter spell to protect me, even if it is the weakest one."
He whispered brokenly, "I'll simply Imperius you not to divulge her. No one else will care about the betrothal. Malfoys do things the old way, everyone knows that." He was quiet, and then continued, "And you know it's you, not Cissa. It's not the same. It was never the same. She was your replacement, chosen by Father. Tomorrow, I'll-"
The woman cut him off with an angry hiss, "Which is why the Dark Lord is able to torture you like this, Lucius. Malfoys are clannish. He has you over a barrel; he keeps you in good behavior with your wife, son, and now your cousin, who is the only one he can torture with impunity. Gods, if he knew about Isis, too..." Lucius felt her fingers clutch his shirt. "You're an expert at wandless magic. You've been doing it for days. Just say the words, please."
"No, I refuse. I can still protect you. If the siege on Hogwarts...if he is defeated...if we can survive the siege, we'll be well. Please, Circe." He begged her softly. "You must listen to me. I am the head of the clan. Take the potions, my darling. We'll go to Salem together. We'll abandon the Manor...just don't..." He stroked her hair, and then whispered, "She will never forgive me if I kill her mother. Did you not think of that? Who would she choose? Her beloved mother or her father who has ruined the family?"
Circe slumped against him, tired from the effort of the argument. "Don't be ridiculous. She loves you, Lucius. And you are always underfoot, so do not pretend that she does not know you. She knew what was at stake when I came back. I explained it all to her."
"And why did you? She is fifteen! If you had simply stayed put-"
"Lucius, what was I to do? You were jailed and then I find the Dark Lord living in the Manor. The rumors, cousin, I had to protect you. I made the same vow!"
"Protect me? With what? A blow to the bastard's head with a bloody cauldron?"
"Well, it might've worked. No one else seems to have attempted it on him." The woman started to cry again. "I could feel them sucking all of your happy memories dry. I could feel them, Lucius. I had to come home. I was compelled." Her soft sobs sounded harsh and cutting. He winced as she inhaled roughly.
He was silent for a moment, wondering yet again, why he had not tried harder to convince his father that she was not truly a squib. She had magic of a sort. Oh, to have a time-turner in the Malfoy treasure rooms.
He felt ashamed of himself for his failure to protect her, and then, in order to protect his bruised feelings, said rather haughtily, "That does not explain why you were found with members of the Order."
"Who else would I approach? Knock on the door of the family home to be welcomed by a witch who despises me and barely tolerates me because her husband loves me more, the vile Black sister who hates me, or the giant snake?" Breathing hard in annoyance, she started to gasp for air, her eyes widening in panic, her hands scrabbling at him.
Worried, Lucius grabbed her shoulders and snarled, "Enough! You will take the potions or I swear I will never forgive if you die on me. The thought of family kept me alive and sane in Azkaban. There was no plotting, no scheming. Father would have been so disappointed in his heir. Now, take the bloody potions."
As he finished speaking, he unstopped the first vial and put it to her lips. She refused to open her mouth. Scowling at her, he reached around with the other hand and calmly pinched her nose shut. Her eyes narrowed, flashing with the spirit he recognized, and then she pinched his skin hard. Flinching, he kept his fingers where they were, as she finally opened her mouth to inhale, Lucius poured the first vial into her mouth. Ignoring the burning pain from her digging her broken nails into his skin, he calmly shut her mouth, held it closed, and rubbed her neck to make her swallow. Finally he felt her swallow the liquid, and he let go of her nose.
His patience at an end, he hissed, "Now, my love, would you care to repeat this idiocy or will you drink the rest in a civilized fashion?"
Gasping for air, she glared at him, and then in a breathy, angry voice, "You. Are. So. Lucky. I. Am. A Squib. Malfoy."
He looked sad for a moment, and then arched his brow, a haughty, calculating look moving across his face. "I know, sweetheart, I bless everyday that you are not witch, for I fear I would be hexed on a thrice daily basis and the Manor would be reduced to rubble. Now drink this." He put another vial to her lips, and this time, she merely scowled before drinking it.
Three vials later, Lucius watched her eyes grow heavy and sleepy, her breathing already improved.
He carefully pulled out the memories of their daughter, and put them into the Scourgified vials, which he slid into his pocket. "I'm sorry. It's the only way to keep her safe. I'll return them to you when...it's over."
He stroked her hair gently and pulled her close to him, and fell asleep, his dreams gentle and calm as they always were when she was near.
The next thing Lucius knew, Narcissa was standing over them, hands on her hips.
"Lucius!" She hissed. "Wake up! This nightly maudlin display of affection over your...cousin is repulsive."
He blinked sleepily, trying to work out why she was standing in the dungeon.
"Lucius, get up. You have to be upstairs before the household wakes. If he finds out you've been here, it's the death of all of us, her included." Narcissa flung an accusing finger out at the sleeping form of Circe, who was curled against him. "We must get ready. Word has come. The siege is tonight."
Lucius nodded. Narcissa turned and flounced out of the cell.
He looked down; the woman in his arms was pale but breathing. She seemed to be worse. The potions had only forestalled the worst. She was right as she always was. He inhaled sharply and tried to will his tears away. He pulled her close and buried his face in her neck. He gasped and then a broken whimper followed it. He couldn't stop himself. He started to sob and rock. "Forgive me." After several minutes, he pulled his face away from her. His eyes were red rimmed and a look of defeat covered his face. He stared blankly at the wall trying to drum up his courage to do what he had to do.
He felt a weak movement and looked down. Her eyes fluttered open. "Lucius, you are so stubborn. I've always forgiven you, because I love you." She smiled, and her eyes drifted close again.
"I love you, too." He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and smoothed her hair. "Do you remember that poem from that Muggle author?" She nodded.
He whispered, i'I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart, I am never without it...'"i/ She turned her face into his hand.
Continuing, he murmured, i"'...Anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling.'"i/ Pausing, he whispered gently, "Avada Kedavra."
A brief green light flashed and a small sigh escaped her. Her body sagged in his arms. Raggedly, he murmured, i"'...I fear no fate, for you are my fate, my sweet...'"i/ His voice drifted into silence.
A whisper filled the chamber, "Ah, Lucius, my love, thank you. The pain, it's gone." He felt a gentle brush against his cheek. "I'll protect you."
He couldn't help it. An almost animal like moan rumbled up from the depths of his heart and the floodgates opened.
Lucius stood in the boathouse. He could barely remember what he had said to the Dark Lord just now, but it had displeased the Wizard.
The ache of sadness in Lucius' heart would not quit. His eyes burned and his emotions were raw. He sensed her with him, writhing around him, protecting him, as he had since the moment he left the cell and her still body. Tears threatened him at every moment. He did not know how he would be able to live without her. His choices and his alone had destroyed his family. He castigated himself as he mentally reviewed all of his choices that resulted in him being in this place at this moment without her. His only hope now was that his children would be safe.
The Dark Lord approached him and then Lucius felt the sting of the wizard's hand on his face.
"How can you live with yourself, Lucius?"
He closed his eyes briefly for a moment and inhaled deeply several times before replying, "I don't know." He briefly considered what his alternatives were and wondered if he would join her now.
Suddenly, he smelled her perfume, felt a gentle tug on a lock of hair, and a feminine whisper sounded in his ear. "You will live with yourself because you must. Survive today at all costs. Bring her home." Ghostly arms surrounded him, embracing him, comforting him, lips touched his temple, and he relaxed for a moment, listening to the Dark Lord's instructions.
"Go and find Severus. Bring him to me."
Lucius leaned against the outer wall of the boathouse as he heard Nagini attacking Severus. He felt as if he was going to splinter into a thousand pieces. How many more of his loved ones and friends would he lose before this night was over? Wisps of mist flowed around him, warming him. He felt the barest brush of a ghostly touch at his cheekbone.
The Dark Lord appeared in front of him, "Come, Lucius, it is time to prepare for the arrival of the boy." And they Apparated to the clearing filled with the senior Death Eaters.
Lucius watched his wife and son march down the bridge. A whispered "Survive" echoed in his ear. He turned and ran after what was left of his family.
A willowy girl with silvery-gilt hair sat in the library of The Academy. Her study desk was tucked into a shadowy corner. She was bent over a book, her quill scratching away on the parchment. Her face was screwed up into a look of concentration.
Briefly, Lucius was sucked back into a memory of coming home from Hogwarts and sneaking up behind Circe, who wore the same look while doing her homework set by her tutor. Their daughter looked just as her mother did when she was fifteen, but unlike her mother, she was a Witch. He shook his head to break up the memory. For a moment, he aimed a curse at his long-dead father for breaking their dreams due to Abraxus' foolish fears.
He walked up behind the girl, his footsteps soft on the wood floor, and stretched out his hand, clenching it into a fist when he saw it was shaking. He pulled it back. He nervously cleared his throat. He thought of the other child that they had lost, and wondered if Circe was with their missing little one. This part of the family allowed him to relax into the man he could have been and now it was broken too. Yet another failure placed at his feet and another Malfoy child forced to grow up before their time.
"Isis," he whispered raggedly, "Daughter."
The girl's head popped up, turning in her seat, she looked up at her father. Her eyes were red from crying. A pile of damp looking Muggle tissues were pushed towards the corner of the desk.
"I came as soon as I could. The...Aurors only just gave me special permission to travel. Potter, he-"
"I know, Father, you told me. It's okay. I understand."
He moved his hands helplessly. "Your mother...I had to...she asked me to... Oh Merlin, what did I do? If only I had waited a few more hours, the Dark Lord was defeated, she would be here with us." Then he stopped. He could not tell his daughter that he had killed her mother even if it had been Circe's own wish. Lucius wanted to grab his daughter, pull her close, and not let her go. Fear stopped him. What if Isis hated him? He felt unsteady and summoned a chair.
He sat heavily, his head dropping into his hands. "Your mother...what did I do? Why did I listen to her? Just a few more hours and maybe the Mediwizards..."
Lucius heard her whisper thickly, sounding too mature for her age, "I know, Father, Mother came to me. She told me what she asked you to do. There was nothing you could do. She was dying. It was the only way. She's at peace now." A gentle hand smoothed his hair.
The wizard collected himself and looked at her. He nodded, and then said succinctly, while trying to contain his emotions. "It is done. You are safe now. You shall come home, home to the Manor, today. You are a Malfoy. It is where you belong. There is no need for you to remain in Salem. And then, when it is rebuilt, you shall finish your schooling at Hogwarts. I'm sure that you will be the best Slytherin," he paused, "or perhaps Ravenclaw, that there ever was."
Reaching out, he pushed an errant lock of hair back over her ear. His thumb gently rubbed her cheek. He whispered hesitantly, "I may not be the best of fathers, but you are dearly loved, daughter, never doubt it. You are so like your mother, so filled with her grace and intelligence."
She started to cry and placed her hand over his. He reached out and pulled her to his chest, rocking her as he had when she was small and needed comfort from her night terrors. Father and daughter mourned together.
Fin
The poem quoted is: Cummings, E. E. 1952. "[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]," in Complete Poems: 1904-1962