Summary: one-shot of pain and hurt and angst (may change to more chaps if people want more). Contains implied slash of many kinds, language, angst, violence, character death, craziness and dark wizards.
Un Goût de Liberté A Taste of Freedom
"Right this way, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Snape," A nameless guard, both from the non-necessity to know and lack of a badge, directed. Lucius just walked past him with a sneer and his loyal cane.
Truth be told, when Lucius got the call, or rather calls since he never answered or even opened his mail from the Ministry anymore and it took two rather prominent people in his life to force him still unwillingly to accept, he felt like he was going through a decidely early case of heart faliure. If his thrumming, not quite fast enough to be humming, heart beat was anything to go by. He froze, not at all willing to believe what the call implied even if it was purely for the sake of his currently unbroken however black and cold and sinister and nearly non-existant heart, and had Severus make the appointment because he could not face the, if known, horrifying, disgusting truth.
Even then, said appointment was broken at least fifteen times and then rescheduled at a later date in time. Which, if the date in time was well away from today, was fine by all standards to Lucius. It was only when the date seemed to loom upon the horizon did he have a problem with it that was easily cured by faking an excuse and making a request for another time in the semi-near future. Such cycle probably would have been repeated, much to Lucius' content, had not Severus made himself a giant butt-head and somehow forced Lucius into the date that was set for today.
So, though no one could see it besides the man seemingly escorting and not in actuality threatening with a knife poking deep in to his side, Lucius was actually a very desperate man trying to get away from this house of horror and death. And being as he was, he occasionally stopped in his frantic thoughts to compliment himself on his clever skills of acting and fooling those who didn't know him too well that otherwise consisted of a wide variety of things.
Sometimes it was criticizing the building, which indeed was filled with death though not physically at the moment. Lucius found it to be too dreary, though that could also be because he was making it seem like such just to make himself feel better, and cold. It was very cold to Lucius, but then again he hadn't left his own Manor in a great number of years and his home was always suited for homeostasis to each individual. Such a change was bound to be expected. Although, in the many days it has been without his lover, Lucius often noted that since nothing was keeping his wit on its toes anymore, his common sense had more than disappeared some.
Severus thought the building to be quite quaint, as quaint as something could be that has seen many years and with it many deaths. It was built of bricks and supported by many wards, for the patient's safety and sometimes occasionally the visitor's. All in all, the building was only as malevolent as Lucius insisted upon seing it because of the news it carried within its walls that he had no intention of ever hearing.
But mostly, Lucius pondered to an extent that kept his heart thumping loudly and much too fast for a man of his age and procuring the slightest sheen of sweat on his face exactly why he was here. It was more than likely, almost guarrenteed once you were called down to this place, that the one thing that kept him alive and happy was no longer able to do so. And no matter how he cut corners and gently worded it, it always meant a lump in his throat and stinging in his eyes and nose. The only thing he couldn't stand and so, like his lover once was though at that time completely without attraction, he held a small hope that it wasn't true. After all, sometimes patients were deemed able to go home after a few trials and tests of normality.
After an eternity of walking and trying not to faint from stress or the possible heart faliure, they were at his door. It was at that moment that Severus magicked his knife back into his wand and took a step, giving Lucius the choice of small freedoms. For a few seconds, though it always seems much longer, Lucius felt a pile up of adrenaline going straight to his legs and a great urge to run away and never ever have to face the truth. Or until Severus was able to force him back again, probably this time having to have the assistance of his own lover.
With a long sigh, Lucius took one shaky step forward, the hallway empty since the room was for isolation so he was free to show his internal struggle. He turned around to view Severus, needing the nod of silent motivation the man gave. With another exhaling of a deep breath, Lucius slowly turned the shiny bronze nob of the ordinary steel door and entered the souless white room.
He leaned against the door, hearing it give a soft click as it closed and feeling it lock him in. He had exactly one hour, the longest they would extend for a former Death Eater, before Severus would come in and lead him out. Ironically, when that time came, he probably wouldn't want to leave this place and fight again against his wonderful and patient friend. Now that is was full with his lover's last memories and warm with his magic's presence.
Inside the room covered with spotless white walls, much to any occupant's dismay that had to stay in this room for a long period of time, was a bed, toliet and notebook with a Muggle pen on top of it. That was because the people who threw his lover in here had the decency to know he was much more comfortable writing with a pen than quill. He gave a half laugh at that thought, for a reason he could not explain, and started for the notebook, eager to read its contents. He made himself comfortable on the bed and prepared for as long as a read he could get out of it.
They took me away. A single sentance for that page. Bemused to a small degree, he flipped it.
I'm glad they did. I don't know if I could stop myself. I cracked and the freedom I got from it felt good. Bad, but good. Another small sentence that he already knew of his lover.
Now I'm scarred. I was before, but...even Malfoy won't look at me. No, he does look I mean, but not the same. His eyes tell me the pity and fear he so tries to hide. I haven't seen that since the day I --------------. Lucius frowned at that his lover had caught signs of his fleeting emotions through his eyes, especially those ones that he felt about him. He tried to hide those with more caution than anything else ever since he saw the devastation it had caused his lover when he killed his son and Lucius had flinched from his touch. Which was the very thing he had crossed out beyond any hope of restoration.
No, no, it won't due for me to admit that here. That's not what they put me away for. Silly me.
It's quite scary, me being me now. I scare myself. Which is sad and also why they locked me here. They think that being locked in isolation will give me time to think about everything I've done and eventually get semi-normal again.
They're pretty much asking for a miracle. The only thing that I know is happening to me is that I am discovering my long, displaced fear of clausterphobia and feeling like the walls are caving in on me, taking away every last bit of my freedom until all I have left is just a mere taste. It's driving me mad, more crazy than I've ever felt yet. Just how do those senile old fools and know-it-all sluts expect me to come back to a glorious return to my old self- forgetting that in itself which is decidely more than impossible- with three square meals a day thrown through a flap, which may I remind some people only helps me think about exactly what I've done to 'deserve' this and how great it felt, and this stupid notebook here and pen charmed to never run out? Bloody mad, the lot of them! With the audacity to say I was the one 'clinically depressed', the one 'suffering from madness'. Bah, you should all be checked yourselves! He chuckled faintly at the words written as he turned the next page.
I suppose I should start when the story really begins...
*
By the time Severus knocked on the door for a warning and opened it gently, peering inside, Lucius had been reduced to a snivelling wreck, hardly able to contain his tears. Severus casted a quick cleaning charm and a very mild cheering charm to help eradicate evidence. "Thank you," He spoke somewhat hoarse with sincere gratitude at his thoughtfulness; despite popular thought Lucius was capable of such emotions. Because of his status, tried and convicted with Death Eater involvency which was the very least he could get convicted for with his known doings, he no longer had possesion of his wand and was unable to use another's without constant pain. Much like his lover, though the pain was more unbearable for him.
Severus smiled faintly. "That's what friends are for. Albus is waiting," Lucius had to stiffle his growl and attempt to put on his social mask to the best of his abilities, he doubted that that senile old man would blame him for having some grief over his lover's death especially since he was part of the 'they' that took him away from him. But then again, having visible grief to the public or even worse to the 'they' group was probably something that would increase the disfavour in their eyes because of just who his lover was.
"I am, to a great extent, uncaring of anything that has to do with his Merlin-awful name. May I remind you exactly what pain he has caused me?" Lucius nearly bit out.
"May I remind you that your actions are just as responsible for your current pains as well as the deeds that this man has done to you," Severus gently spoke, very used to his long-time friend's antics. He smirked when Lucius seemed to pout at that.
After everything that happened to him because of his lover, Lucius resorted back to some more childish tendencies which was always humourous to see but at times disheartening that the great Lucius Malfoy was reduced to such a state. Severus could never understand why Lucius still loved him, be it blame it on Slytherin ties or more likely not; since the man was often cruel and abusive. Exceptionally cunning, yes, but very twisted. He murdered Lucius' son for Merlin's sake and Lucius only came crawling back to him like some beaten, in-bred bitch (1). It infuriated Severus to say the least, even more so when his dear friend refused to turn him in.
"I love him, Severus. And he is eternally sorry for the end of the Malfoy line," Lucius had agrued, deadpan.
"Fuck it, Lucius! He tells you he is sorry for killing your only son and you go back to him without a fight? What is wrong with you!" He raged.
"He promised me that he will try to find a way to bring Draco back; he has always carried out what he promised," Severus sighed at his soft but final tone. He only stopped arguing because he saw the lone tear run down the blonde man's face and knew that Lucius wasn't happy with this ordeal no more than he was.
"So be it. Just..promise me that if he ever does anything to hurt you again, even without intention and no matter the significance, you will come to me," He had spoken quietly, getting ready to leave.
"I will, good friend. But you must promise me that you won't kill him, no matter what,"
"I don't know if I can promise that," Severus admitted.
"So be it," Lucius repeated calmly.
Indeed, Severus could never fully understand Lucius' relationship, though he had a good idea. His own lover, Ginerva Weasley-Snape, had been abused physically by her previous lover Hermione Granger, but not to the extent that Lucius had been and never mentally.
He began to escort Lucius, this time without the threat of a knife. He knew that in the forefront of Lucius' mind, the faint hope that his lover was still alive kept him here of his own free will. But, just in case the probable reality hit, he turned a blind eye to his friend pocketing the notebook.
"I can't wait to bash the glorious Albus Dumbledore's face in for taking him away from me," Lucius spoke, most likely only to keep his mind off of the near future. "How dare he think that he has the right to lock any body up because they don't act they way he believes we all should,"
"He has the right because this so-called anybody went on a killing spree and took the lives of both Muggles and Wizards alike," Severus treaded softly. "The right because there was proven evidence he was not mentally stable,"
"He was perfectly fine mentally!" Lucius hissed. Better to get his anger out know then inside the room with people who would not hesitate for a reason to lock Lucius up as well. "He was brilliant, genius, cunning, witty..."
"Just crazy," Severus added.
"You would be too, had you gone through what he had," Lucius shook his long mane. "We should all look up to him..."
"And aspire to be exactly like him?" Severus interrupted, pausing in their walk to try and beat sense back into his once wise friend. "Lucius, he was a monster to everyone and you, whom he 'loved'! He is by no means a Golden Boy,"
"And yet Dumbledore thought he was!" Lucius snapped, silence falling right after so suddenly that his words echoed. They stood there, staring and listening to the other breath. Then Lucius sighed. "I'm sorry, Severus. It's just all the stress..."
"Stop, just stop," Severus said, walking them both again now that Lucius had gotten rid of his turmoil. "I understand, you don't have a reason to apologize to me,"
"You've been so good to me when all I have ever been was ungrateful to you," He said softly, almost velvety, continuing his gratitude despite Severus' insistence to leave it where it began. "Is it over yet?"
Severus chuckled. "It has barely begun. We have yet to be in the same room as Albus,"
"Nor do I ever want to again. Hasn't he bloody died yet?"
"See for yourself," He gestured to the door in front of them.
"You go first," Lucius said quickly, making Severus raise an eyebrow at his haste. "Please?" Another infrequent sociallity.
"Very well," He pushed open the door and Lucius followed. This room wasn't just white, thankfully, it had assorted colours proper for what was like a Muggle doctor's office. In it, unfortunately, was Dumbledore and his boot-licker Hermione Granger no doubt to serve as both a witness for the 'Light' and a scribe.
"Lucius," The man's eyes sparkled. "How great to see you out of the Manor again,"
"Shove it," Lucius mumbled, refusing both outstretched hand and dish of lemon drops. The blue eyes deteriorated.
"Ah, so that is how it is. Fine enough, I assume you want to get straight to business. You were always the business type, never agreeing unless it benefited you in some form and never have I had a meeting with you that wasn't with pleasantries only," Albus rambled.
"Do please," Lucius made himself comfortable in a chair that was far away from the two he could get. "And let us get straight to this business,"
"Ah, yes, I regretfully have to inform you that your spouse..."
"Don't say his name! You don't have permission to say his name!" Lucius shouted suddenly, almost agressively-fearfully, which Granger took down furiously in quill. "No one says his name,"
"Well then, your lover has taken his life. I'm sorry," His bland words enraged Lucius and he shot out of his seat, going to strangle Dumbledore's neck in almost one motion.
"Fuck you and your 'sorry', you never cared about either of us! So-called 'Light', hypocritical bastards," He hissed. Hermione stood up with her wand out.
"Imperio!" She casted. "Remove your hands from our good Leader," Once Lucius did so, none to hastily, she broke that curse.
"Crucio," She called before he could breath. Severus gritted his teeth and clentched his fists as he heard Lucius scream; he was not allowed to stand up by unspoken law unless he wished to be Kissed or sent to the same fate as his friend. Being free, he could fight to give Lucius back his freedom. Thank Merlin Lucius knew this too, even as he passed out to escape the pain.
*
I suppose I should start where the story really begins and not at present times, just for the sake of preserving my not-so-fond memories that took me to the not-so-stable place I am in. But just how far back should I go? Hmm, I guess it starts the day when the world saw fit to bring about a subtle change that would eventually lead to who I am today: End of my 6th Year at Hogwarts, June 21st.
Lucius re-read that page, having been the one he flipped to first, and then the whole story taken from a narrator's point of view. He doubted it was because of his so-called 'insanity', and more likely just that he wanted to tell a grand story of his life. His lover always enjoyed a good tale, probably because he had never been able to read one when he was a child. However, to anyone outside Lucius, it was a sure sign of his mental deterioration.
He let his hand slowly drift over the introduction to himself. It was played out like he was a man with no thought that was not about him and further excelling himself, though young in body and matureness. With a small chuckle, he realized that it was only because his lover had shown him how to mature from the start that he became a man with feelings and a father full of love for his son.
He looked around his containment room, the same room his lover was in and the same fate. Lucius quickly turned to the last page.
And Malfoy...no Lucius. I should have always called you that from the beginning, instead of lowering your status to yourself for my own happiness. I know one day you will read this. I know that on that day, I will be dead. But, please, remember one thing for me. I truly do love you. It is because so that I have managed to find a way to bring back your son and restore your line. ...Sadly, it marks a choice I must make on your behalf which you already know the repercusions of. I have always wanted a family, and I regret that day I made the stupidest mistake of my life, and I know you will be an even better father your second time around. Once you say the words 'amoure mordor todo' (2), he will come back to you. I paid my price for it, I just hope you don't bear that against me. Always yours in life and after-life, Le vol de vie et de mort.
Lucius felt the tears come again, reading his lover's name, his signature of death that allowed him his son. "Le vol de vie et de mort. How true that is since your death gives my son life, Harry Potter."
(1) As in female dog, not today's meaning.
(2) Combination of spanish, maybe italian or french and my own mind. Supposed to mean 'love kills all'.