Disclaimer: Harry Potter does NOT belong to me. It belongs to the lady named J.K Rowling. (Seriously...I'm tired of doing this)
Pairings: Hinted HP/DM
A/N: This story actually came about when my father did something for me. What he did for me was simple, but touched me all the same. This one-shot is dedicated to all fathers out there, especially mine even though he will never see it (hell he doesn't even know that I write), for their fatherly love that we always seem to ignore in favour of our mothers (doesn't apply to everyone, I know).
Enjoy!
Sacrifice
The night was quiet. Every occupant in the house was sound asleep, except for one.
The man stepped quietly out of his room, shutting the door carefully behind him. With a slow pace, he paced leisurely down the halls, comfortable in his casual robes. His long blond hair was tied back with a simple leather strap, his normally cold grey eyes dark and troubled, laden with countless worries. The long instilled pureblood practices since young had kept his posture proper and straight, but that night, a sense of a terrible burden upon him made him look like a weary old man.
His footsteps were soft and sure, unconcerned by the fact that he couldn't see in the darkness. It was his home after all. He knew every single nook and cranny of it. His mind wandered as he walked, relishing in the coolness of the night and the inviting darkness that surrounded him. A frown occasionally appeared on his usually expressionless face, sadness and anger flickering across his face every now and then.
He reflexively turned around the corners, his ears hearing only the muted impact his feet made with the lush carpet. His right thumb rubbed the silver ring in comfort, and he smiled slightly as he did so; the ring had been a gift from one of his most favourite people, the one whom he was visiting then.
He paused when he reached the wooden door, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath, his lips tweaking up contentedly when he smelled the familiar smell of pines and mint seeping out from the room. His hand reached over and grasped the door knob tightly, twisting it and giving the door a firm push.
He smiled unwittingly at the sight of his son asleep. With short blond hair strewn everywhere on the pillow, arms clutching protectively at his teddy bear, Draco made an adorable sight. Not, he thought wryly, that Draco would ever call himself adorable. Or cute. Or anything remotely girly.
His eyes flickered to the teddy bear that Draco was holding so tightly onto. His face took on a wistful expression when he remembered the scene.
"I want it! Daddy, I want it!" the childish voice yelled, grey eyes so similar to his own staring up pleadingly at his father.
He tried to dissuade him by speaking sternly. "No, Draco. You can't have it. You are a Pureblood, and Purebloods don't own something like…that."
Draco promptly looked at him in wide, tear-tilled eyes. His lips trembled, his face taking on an expression that looked like one of a dejected puppy. He immediately gave in upon looking at that face.
Narcissa had merely looked on rather amusedly as he reluctantly bought the teddy bear for Draco.
Once the teddy bear was delivered into the arms of the absolutely delighted Draco, though, every trace of the previous depression and sadness disappeared. It was only then that he knew that he had been played for.
He snorted lightly as the memory flashed through in his mind, though he had been rather pleased that his son would most definitely be a Slytherin at that rate. Of course, that had been after fuming at his stupidity.
A creaking sound caught his attention, and he looked just in time to see Draco shifting about in his bed. A soft murmur slid out from his pouty lips, making Lucius frown in sadness.
"Harry…"
His eyelids drooped in weariness, his shoulders hunching from his worries. He took on a sad smile as he walked towards his son. Gingerly, he sat himself on the corner of the bed, wincing when it let out a particularly loud groan. He focused on Draco's features, pleased when he noted how his features were carried on strongly in his son. Narcissa's delicate eyebrows and lips were clearly inherited, though the strong cheekbones and defined planes of the face were definitely from him.
His hand rose and carefully cupped Draco's face, lovingly stroking his cheek. His eyes softened when Draco leant against his hand unconsciously, as though searching for the warmth.
He felt his heart erupting with love and happiness as he watched his son. Draco was probably the only person he held the greatest affection for, except for his wife. He had brought light and purpose to his life, and as much as it sounded cheesy, it was absolutely true. Thrown into the darkness of the life of a Death Eater, he had struggled to maintain his grip on humanity and morals. Not even Narcissa's constant support and love could pull him out of his self-reproach and self-disgust.
When Draco had been born, it had been as if everything was suddenly clear, and light instantly flooded his life. It had been so clear; protecting his family had been and should always be the first and foremost priority in his life. Nothing was more important than family. Not even the Pureblood vendetta and ideals.
The name flitted out of Draco's mouth yet again, and Lucius felt his heart clench.
He knew. Of course he knew. He knew of the open enmity between his son and the famous Boy-Who-Lived, the animosity that was so apparent in the day. Yet, he also knew of the secret admiration that lurked in between the both of them, the admiration that led to adoration and love. It was so clear that his son was in love. He looked like a lovelorn fool most of the time those days.
It pained him that his son would fall in love with the very person that would spell doom for him if the relationship was found out but certain people. Namely, the dark lord and the rest of the Dark families.
The name was whispered yet again.
With a last smile at his sleeping son and a last pat on his cheek, Lucius rose from the bed, smoothing his hands down his robe to remove any wrinkles. Striding out from the room, his heart burned from the life-changing decision he made.
-
The crowd cheered exuberantly as their saviour walked through them, raising his wand triumphantly. Harry's face was flushed with excitement and relief, grinning broadly at finally fulfilling his prophecy. His eyes flitted from left to right, trying to search out for the very person that made it a success.
He let out a smile when he finally saw him.
Robes drenched with blood, grey eyes cold and alight with danger as an aftereffect from fighting all of his previous allies-turned-enemies, blond hair clasped firmly at the nape of his neck, and hand clenched firmly around his wand, Lucius Malfoy looked dangerous. Yet, Harry held no fear as he strode towards him.
The crowd gasped when he placed his hand over his heart and bowed – a sign of utmost respect. Whisperings began to fly about when Harry raised his head and met with the older man's eyes.
"Thank you. Thank you for turning spy, thank you for providing information for us. Thank you for giving up all your ideals and beliefs when you helped us. Thank you for risking your life for us. I may not be able to thank Professor Snape myself, but I want to thank you. I want you to know that the Wizarding World will be eternally grateful to you, Lord Malfoy. Thank you for all your sacrifices."
The roar of the crowd grew even louder. Paying no heed to them, Lucius merely looked at Harry rather apathetically, grey eyes devoid of any emotion as they surveyed the boy, no, man, in front of him. After a long time, satisfaction flickered across his face, and his eyes softened minutely for that quick moment before they turned hard again. His mouth twisted up in a smirk as he held his head higher.
"Family will always be most important. Draco loved you. That was plenty reason for me to help," his eyes looked rather shrewdly at Harry, before continuing, "and you will realize it soon, I suppose. Draco had proposed not long ago, hadn't he?"
The loud gasp and mutterings from the crowd in reaction of that statement made the both of them chuckle. Harry nodded seriously in response to the question.
Lucius looked at him rather sternly, stating firmly, "Then, you're family. Worthy of my sacrifice."
Harry beamed, speaking the words that made Lucius swell in pride.
"Draco must be proud to call you his father."
Yes, Lucius thought, Draco was worth everything. Family was worth everything. His pride, his ideals, his beliefs, even his life. Everything.
I hope you loved it. I enjoyed writing it(: Please inform me if there are any mistakes.
P.S: To all those waiting for Darkest Love, I'm sorry!!! I will give you a proper explanation when I update soon!
Review! Yes you, review!