Disclaimer: The Harry potter series belongs to J. K. Rowling. The only profit I gain from this
story is the enjoyment and experience of writing it.
Written for the The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Finals Round 1
Main Prompt:
Lucius Malfoy
Additional prompts:
6. (quote) 'Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that'. - Martin Luther King Jr.
9. **(atmosphere) /light-thunderstorm
12. (word) ink
Passing Thoughts
Lucius stood by his father's window; it overlooked the garden. A light rain was coming down, dulling the vibrancy of the scene. He could hear the low murmur of his wife and the healer discussing his father's condition.
They all knew that his father wouldn't live much longer. Abraxas Malfoy lay still on the bed. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest reassured Lucius his father still lived.
His father's features, once pale like his own, now appeared charred and black. It was as if he was being burned from the inside out. The healer had said it was a very rare occurrence, and all he could do was make the passing as painless as possible. Reaching down, he touched one of his father's limp hands.
#
The healer had left, leaving the two Malfoys to wait for Lucius to get better. Lucius hadn't want to get sick. He didn't want any of his friends to know he was sick. His owl was perched on the windowsill, making loud clicking noises with it's beak.
Lucius, fed up with the noise, snatched up one of the numerous pillows from his bed and threw it at the owl. The owl screeched loudly and took off out of the window, leaving Lucius alone in his room. Suddenly, he felt guilty for driving off his own companion. He could feel tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.
"Lucius?" said the cool voice of his father from the doorway.
Lucius quickly scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to hide his tears. Lucius could hear his father let out a sigh, and he didn't dare look up to see the look of disappointment on Abraxas's face. He heard the click of glass as his father set something down on his bedside table. Lucius felt his bed dip under the added weight of his father as he sat down.
"Lucius, look at me," Abraxas spoke calmly but with strength.
Lucius reluctantly raised his head to look up at his father.
"Even the greats of wizards can become sick. There is nothing to be ashamed of," Abraxas said, his eyes never leaving his son's.
Lucius nodded meekly and murmured, "Yes, Sir." Abraxas let out another sigh but didn't push the subject.
"Here, I brought you a cup of tea," Abraxas spoke as he picked up the two cups that he had set down and handed one to Lucius. Lucius gave a quiet word of thanks as he took a sip.
#
Now that he thought about it, it was strange that his father had brought the tea instead of one of the house elves. There had been moments that he had thought he figured out his father, but then his father would turn and do things like that.
"Lucius?"
A hand touched his shoulder. He looked over to see Narcissa standing by his side, her brows furrowed in worry.
"I am alright," he assured softly. Narcissa sighed but nodded. She said something about checking on Draco, before leaving him alone with his father.
He could now hear the distant rolls of thunder as a storm started to blow in. Lucius didn't remember his mother, having been very young when she passed away. Though he did remember visiting his mother's grave in October with his father the year before he left for Hogwarts.
#
The leaves were falling from the trees in bright hues of orange and yellow. They stood side by side in front of the grave. The words carved in the headstone struck him as odd;
'Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that'.
"What does the saying mean?" asked Lucius, watching his father out of the corner of his eye.
Abraxas let a small smile slip across his face.
"Your mother liked that saying." His father's gaze drifted to the horizon in thought. "She lived by it." He lifted his right hand and touched his other forearm as if imagining something under the fabric of his sleeve.
"Your mother was unique for a Slytherin." He murmured this as though it was more to himself than to Lucius.
#
Once he became a Death Eater, he realized that his father wasn't one. For even his father would not be able to ignore their Lord's call so often. Lucius had wondered ever since why his father had never joined their ranks. Abraxas had great pride in family loyalty; an attribute that he had grown to admire in his father.
A loud crack of thunder rumbled as the storm blew closer, bringing him out of his musing. His father moved slightly, whether from pain or sleep, Lucius wasn't sure. Lucius let out a sigh and rubbed his aching eyes. He let his shoulders slump slightly now that he was alone with his father. He drifted away from the bed again to gaze out of the window. A bit to the right of the window was his father's writing desk. Polished ebony wood that was obscured by the many papers, quills and ink-bottles that covered it.
"You can create more change with words than physical actions. You can make someone be filled with joy or anger, or you can even touch the depth of despair with just some ink on a page."
Those words still stuck with him years after his father had spoke them. Perhaps it was for the better that his father had never joined the Death Eaters, since he would no doubt be disappointed in their crude attempts at gaining control.
Lucius looked back down at his father. His father's skin was cool now that the fever had passed. Rain was now pelting on the window in earnest as the heart of the storm passed over them. He reached down and pulled the sheet over his father's face. Lucius would miss him. But one day he would see him again on the other side.
Footnote: [Hemorrhagic smallpox is a severe form that is accompanied by extensive bleeding into the skin, mucous membranes, and gastrointestinal tract. This form develops in approximately 2 percent of infections and occurred mostly in adults. In hemorrhagic smallpox the skin does not blister, but remains smooth. Instead, bleeding occurs under the skin, making it look charred and black, hence this form of the disease is also known as black pox.]