Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything strictly associated with his magical world.
Note: This story is a comparison piece to my story "Disappointment," though, reading it is not necessary.
Line of Loyalty
He stepped softly, but with an unmatched air of authority. St. Mungo's was quite at this time of morning, just as he preferred. He did not want to have to make his way around commoners and mudbloods as he went to his destination.
He did not make the display he normally did in public, though. His cloak wasn't billowing out behind him menacingly, nor did his silvery blonde hair gracefully trail him as if there was an imaginary wind. No, today was not for that.
He reached the end of the fifth floor corridor and hesitated at the door. It was only a fraction of a second, but it bothered him nonetheless. He quickly banished his doubts and went through the door.
"Mr. Malfoy!" said a Healer, thoroughly surprised. The elderly woman was attending to an unconscious man who seemed to have flowers growing out his nose. "What can I do for you, sir?"
"I have come to see one of your patients. A Gilderoy Lockhart, if you please."
"Yes, sir. He doesn't get many visitors, but he is such a sweet soul. It is wonderful of you to come to visit, Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, yes, where is he?" said Lucius Malfoy, becoming impatient with the woman.
"Right this way, sir," she said, leading him through a door on his left.
In the next room sat a man with wavy blonde hair scribbling away at a pile of photos. Lucius tilted his head slightly to see that the photos were all of the man and that he was haphazardly trying to sign his name on them.
"Leave us," demanded Lucius of the woman. Shooting him a look, the healer left, leaving Lucius to face his past.
Lucius sat down across from the other man, Gilderoy Lockhart. "Hello!" said Gilderoy brightly. "Have you come to teach me joined-up writing?"
Lucius studied Gilderoy, from his wavy hair to his shiny teeth to the slightly vacant look in his blue eyes. It had been two years since the last time he had seen him. It had been in Flourish and Blotts that Gilderoy had released his autobiography. Lucius had been there, looking on at a distance, holding nothing but contempt for the naive and arrogant man.
Lucius had read Gilderoy's autobiography. All it was was lies, lies trying to forget his past. The thing was that your past never forgot you. Gilderoy had forgotten that.
"No," said Lucius stiffly, speaking to his brother for the first time in nearly twenty years.
"I am going to learn for my fans! Gladys…she has sent me three letters. I wish I knew why…" said Gilderoy happily.
"She writes because you were a devious idiot," said Lucius bluntly.
Gilderoy frowned slightly. "Do I know you?" he asked.
Lucius stared at Gilderoy with a hard look. He remembered the last time they had spoken. He had been twenty-one years old and Gilderoy had just left Hogwarts. When they had been younger his younger brother had looked up to him and they counted on each other in every time of need whether it be having incurred the anger of their father or just nightmares on a cold and stormy night.
But that had all changed. Lucius had went off to Hogwarts leaving Gilderoy alone. Something happened in those three years before Gilderoy started Hogwarts. Lucius never knew what; truth be told he never bothered to find out. Whatever it was, his brother had lost himself and lost what it meant to be a Malfoy. He didn't quite understand this until the beginning of his third year, Gilderoy's first. This was when the unspeakable happened: Gilderoy Malfoy was sorted into Hufflepuff.
"Not anymore. But, once we understood each other perfectly. A lot has happened since then, Gilderoy; I should have known that you would be a disappointment. Honestly, struck by your own curse? You are a shame to the Malfoy name—but wait, you abandoned your heritage long ago."
"Have I? Goodness me, I have done a lot in my life!" said Gilderoy pleasantly.
Lucius's face grew hot, he felt the composure that he normally maintained so well slowly drain from him. "Is that all you have to say to me? You left me to hold up the family legacy and all you have to say is that you have done a lot in your life? You will learn though, you will. You cannot escape being a Malfoy, Gilderoy. No matter how hard you might try, it will follow you where ever you go."
Lucius received no answer to this. He realized that he needed no half-witted retort from his brother, for in that moment he was just inches from the answer to why he had came to St. Mungo's this day. But did he really want to face it? Did he want to admit that he was bitter, that he was jealous of the freedom that his brother had enjoyed? Of course not.
He had filled his purpose. Gilderoy, even if he couldn't actually understand, knew now of the guilt that should be following him for the rest of his days. He had abandoned his family, his brother, and that was something that could never be forgiven or forgotten.
Lucius, the obedient son, wouldn't afford himself such a luxury. He knew where his loyalties lay, a value that he instilled within his only son as well. His son who would never know the disappointment he had felt.
Lucius cast one last glance at Gilderoy. "Just a disappointment," he muttered as he turned and walked away.