Prologue
Harry made his way through the gate, his green eyes scanning the beautiful fountain, the strutting peacocks, and the elegant manor resting ahead. He couldn't overcome the feeling of dread, of apprehension, of déjà vu as he forced himself to continue walking toward the cold mausoleum that had nearly cost his, Ron's, Luna's, Ollivander's, Hermione's, and others' lives; the one that had ridden Dobby, Charity Burbage, and countless others'. He told himself that it was for the sake of duty, for his godforsaken job.
He knocked on the door, swallowing. It swung open, as if of its own accord, but Harry caught sight of a house-elf tottering towards him, wearing a dirty pillowcase. His throat tightened slightly; the image of Dobby, pre-liberation, swam into his vision – history did tend to repeat itself, did it not? However, this elf had gigantic brown eyes, rather like Winky's, instead of green, and quite droopy, bat-like ears. She bowed, though it looked disrespectful to Harry.
"Hello, you is Mister Harry Potter, Batty is right?" she said in a high squeak. Without waiting for a reply, the tiny creature continued. "Batty is honoured Mister Potter, honoured, to welcomes you in Malfoy Manor, sir! Batty will take your coat, yes?"
"Er – yes," Harry had never quite gotten the hang of how to converse with house-elves, and he always felt too polite to give orders to the old Kreacher at their home. "Here." He craned his neck, ignoring the titters from the portraits, the scornful looks some gave him, and his harried reflection in the gilded mirrors as Batty led him Merlin-knows-where. "Where are Draco and Lucius, Batty? I need to interrogate them. Annual interrogations, you know."
She nodded sagely. "Master is in his suite with Miss Cissy. Master Draco is out, he say that he are coming to the Ministry next week."
Harry massed his neck. "Tell him that we'll meet in his study – Lucius, I mean."
Batty bowed at him. "Very good, very good, Harry Potter, if that is what you is wishing." She turned. Harry was about to follow, but then he saw her cup her hands and shout, "Fifi! Harry Potter are here, I wants you to gives him some food when I will go find Master, hokay?"
Another house-elf, Fifi, walked over immediately. She tugged at Harry's hand, and he felt the coolness of her rough skin. "Follow Fifi, we is coming to the kitchens, Harry Potter." She nodded respectively at Batty, who set off, going up the grand staircase in front of them. Harry was quite puzzled when he realised that house-elves (well, those of Malfoy Manor, anyways) had their own hierarchy. Smiling ever so slightly at what Hermione would say about his stupidity, he followed Fifi into the kitchens.
They were a very animated spot, with about twenty or so house-elves working over the dinners of the current residents of Malfoy Manor, chatting loudly all the time. He distinctly heard the sounds of dishes being washed and wiped, elves yelling orders, and water whooshing. A few delicious fumes floated up his nose and he had to admit that the Malfoys' cuisine had some taste.
Fifi led him to a spare table, where he assured her that yes, a glass of Butterbeer and a chocolate chip biscuit would be enough. Harry felt that he needed something, anything to calm himself. No, he wasn't nervous about interrogating Lucius, he was more... disgusted. Yes, disgusted, and maybe a tad pitying.
Lucius's elf returned shortly (Harry assumed Batty was Lucius's elf) and beckoned for him to come. She held his hand. A moment later, they reappeared in a dark corridor. Batty snapped her fingers and the lights flickered on, faintly.
"Master is inside," Batty nodded. "Good day, sir, good day."
"Thank you," Harry said, gracing her with a smile. "Good day, yourself, now."
She bowed and waved, and then Disapparated with a crack.
Harry took a breath and knocked.
"Come in," said a lazy drawl.
He obeyed, turned the silver knob; Malfoy's office came into view. It was grand, to say the least, with an empty portrait hanging near a bookshelf that contained many dusty old tomes. Papers were strewn haphazardly about the hand-carved desk; Lucius himself stood at the end of the study, his fingers on the glass.
"Potter, is it?" Malfoy turned and faced him before pulling out his black leather chair and sitting down.
"Yes, Lucius," Harry said evenly.
He couldn't help but feel revulsion as he gazed at Lucius Malfoy's scarred face, a mess of red, pink, and white. Harry figured that a charm stopped his eyes from reaching where Lucius's eyes should have been. Ron often asked him if he felt regret at saving the elder Malfoy's life. Harry couldn't say that he did. After all, Malfoy had served his time in Azkaban, and Harry wasn't about to let an (innocent?) bystander die of a werewolf attack when he was on Auror duty. The rebellion had been terrible, and every life lost, whether Dark or Light, was a heavy burden.
"It's rude to not announce yourself to a blind man," Malfoy drawled in that hoarse voice of his, touching, maybe unconsciously, his mutilated face with slender fingers while regarding him with a raised eyebrow. He waved his other hand dismissively. "You can begin your questioning, you know, Potter."
Harry sighed. He found it most bothersome to interrogate the former Death Eaters in their own residences, as opposed to his office. It might have been a bit silly of his friend's part, but once Ron had said that being behind that desk at the Auror office at the Ministry gave him an impression of great power. Harry couldn't agree more. Even incapacitated, years after the war, Lucius Malfoy still gave an aura of power, and Harry didn't like it. He suddenly felt as if he were twelve years old again, during that hot summer's day in Diagon Alley.
"I'm the Head of the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic, Mr Malfoy," he said firmly.
"Most admirable," Malfoy observed. He contented himself with sneering, having sensed that it would not have been rather imprudent to continue his taunting, so Malfoy sat back, waiting for Harry to continue.
Harry shook his head. This was Lucius Malfoy, he told himself with an internal groan. There was no use reasoning with the former Death Eater, and he decided to just take out his notepad and begin his questioning.
"Name?"
"I had thought you would know," Malfoy remarked dryly. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Potter."
"Birth date?"
"1st November 1954."
"Birthplace?"
"Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England."
"Parents?"
"Abraxas Malfoy and Anastasia Malfoy, nee Daku."
"Schooling?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin House."
"Current occupation?"
"Apparently none."
"Please lend me your wand for a moment, Lucius," Harry said. Malfoy tossed it to him wordlessly and he picked it up, feeling over the Runes-like carvings and symbols, and then turned back to the questioned. "Wand information?"
"Elm, 12 and ¾ inches, rigid and Veela hair core," he recited in a monotone, looking bored. "I have used it since I had been released from Azkaban... since 2001. Is that enough information for you, Potter?"
Harry made no reply; his heavily used quill was scratching the parchment rather loudly as it noted the information Malfoy had given.
"You can have your wand back, Mr Malfoy. Residence?"
"Malfoy Manor," Malfoy paused, and then, not able to resist the urge, added, "You are in the Manor at the moment, Potter, in case you hadn't noticed."
"I had," Harry commented flatly, not falling for the bait. "Very well."
"Finished?"
"Not yet. Have you travelled anywhere?"
"In my state, no, Potter, unless you count the manor's gardens," Malfoy said softly, tilting his head. "Finished now?"
"Nearly," Harry sighed. "Have you had any contact with any other former Death Eaters recently?"
"My son. Other than that, no."
"I'm finished," the younger man got up. "Until next, Mr Malfoy."
"Goodbye, Potter."
Malfoy shut the door behind him rather loudly and Harry could still hear him pacing. Wiping his hands on his trousers, not a house elf in view, Harry decided to go on downstairs. He spied two blond heads at the bench near the grand staircase; a girl was reading a novel to her younger brother.
Malfoy spawn, he thought, watching them for a moment, standing quite still and rigid. The girl noticed his stare and glowered; her steely grey eyes bore into his bright green and her strawberry blonde curls seemed to want to jump at him. The boy seemed confused, but stared at him unblinkingly, his pale golden hair shining in the scarce hallway light.
Harry gave an awkward half-wave, and then found his way to the door, finally out of sight of the children, and ran to the gate to Disapparate.
Oh, sometimes he really hated his job.
Yep. This is sort of different from what I usually do.
I've had this in my head for a good bit of time, and I figured I'd try. This is compliant with The Penetrator of Darkness: Year One. It will focuse on the Lucius/Scorpius relationship, mostly, and I'll put in some Lucius/Narcissa, with Teddy, Andromeda, Draco and Astoria, additionally.
Lucius will seem slightly OOC at times - but bear in mind that he's been mauled, blinded by a former ally - Greyback - and this is him after the war. Now, some of this will show him in a negative light, some in a positive one; I'm not trying to prove that he was bad, or that he was good either - I think of him as in between, actially.
This will shift from POVs - Scorpius, Lucius, Narcissa, Megara (OC older sister to Scorp), and others'.
The idea that Harry interview the remaining Death Eaters comes from Questions and Answers - credit for that goes to little0bird.
Finally, the prologue takes place in 2010, and the final chapter will be right before Scorpius leaves for Hogwarts.
So... End of extremely long author's note... Please read and review, especially if you favourited/alerted!