Prompt: Lucius is unlucky.

Word: Lock

Unlucky object: Black Cat

Being a Malfoy is tough. There are responsibilities that one must tend do whilst being in the eye of the public. On any given day, the head of the Malfoy family must tend to the family business, as well as look after his personal inheritance. Malfoys must also insure that they remain in good standing with the public. This is, perhaps, the most important detail. The business and inheritance will be there always, but one's reputation is easily tarnished, and the Malfoys had already worked quite hard to fight back from the nasty backlash that they received after the war.

Lucius Malfoy was a master at managing all of these affairs, and he did so with pride, dignity, and class. It was of the norm for him to arrive at work early and leave late, at least five days out of the week. He tended to dozens of employees, personally ensuring that each person that he was responsible for had been adequately completing their daily tasks. There were meetings to attend to, Floo calls to make, and events to be planned, but he was always on top of everything.

But then it happened.

It was a Friday, and Lucius had decided to close the business early for the day. There had been lots of promising investments during the week, nobody had got fired, and most importantly, there was no bad press about the business dealings whatsoever. As a reward for this, he closed down the office at midday, ensuring all employees that business would resume the following Monday.

In a good mood, Lucius left the office and walked purposefully through Diagon Alley. He wanted one thing from the Alley, and that was Florean Fortescue's ice cream. It had been years since he'd last indulged in said tasty comestibles, and he made the decision that this would be the day for it.

He only had to wait briefly for his sundae to be prepared, but as he waited, he felt something rub against his leg. He found it odd; most living creatures shied away from the rather intimidating man. He looked down, but immediately wished he hadn't. It was common knowledge that black cats were very bad luck, and this Malfoy was indeed superstitious.

From that point on, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

The problems started out as silly, miniscule issues that would not have disturbed him any other day. The Apparition point near the ice cream parlor was inactive for the day, the Floo Network inside the Leaky Cauldron was down, and the beautiful, cloudless sky gave way for a torrential downpour. But, Lucius was a reasonable man, and he considered the possibility of coincidence. It didn't seem likely that both the Floo and Apparition points were both disabled by accident, and there was always the chance that he'd simply missed the rain forecast. But it got worse.

A small child, who was obviously not being carefully watched by her parents, ran into him hard, thus spilling his ice cream all down his front. While this was happening, he got distracted and tripped over a rather large crack in the cobblestones. It must have been quite a scene, Lucius thought, to see a man who was normally so pristine covered with ice cream and falling on his bottom in the middle of the Alley. He tried to maintain his composure as best as possible, but he could not help but flush with embarrassment as he noticed several people snickering in his direction. He needed to get home, and he needed to get there fast.

But that was only the beginning.

He arrived at the Manor and attempted to enter through the main doors, but they were locked. He rang the doorbell, expecting a house elf to greet him. Rather, he was greeted with quite the spectacle indeed.

"Darling!" Narcissa exclaimed. "What on earth has happened to you? Goodness, we weren't expecting you for hours!"

Clearly not in the mood for his wife's chipper enthusiasm, Lucius fumed. "We?" he asked.

"Oh, yes! Draco has brought home his girlfriend for us to finally meet." Narcissa pulled her husband into the house, casting several cleaning charms on him as she continued to talk. "She's lovely; I really think you're going to like her. And, they said they've got some news." She lowered her voice to a near whisper. "I think he's popped the question."

If Lucius thought he couldn't get any unluckier, he was certainly mistaken.

As Narcissa pulled him into their study, Lucius was able to hear the talking and giggling that was going on between his son and an obviously female voice. He didn't recognize it immediately, but he wished he had. At the very least, her voice could have helped him to gain some semblance of composure before he saw the girl.

She was attractive enough. Her figure was nice and she had lovely brown eyes. But she also had red hair. And it wasn't just red. It was Weasley red.

"Afternoon, Father," Draco said, immediately detaching himself from his girlfriend's side at the sight of his parents. "I want you to meet my girlfriend, Ginevra."

Lucius was unable to control himself. "You brought home a Weasley?"

Draco had expected his father to react better, and disappointment showed through his normally steel expression. "Well, yes," he said, "you told me you wanted to meet my girlfriend. Ginny is my girlfriend."

"Dear, you've not even given the girl a chance!" Narcissa said, butting in as she noticed her husband beginning to look livid. "She's quite sharp, if I do say so, and also rather lovely."

The older Malfoy man took a moment to gain his equanimity before forcing as sincere a smile as he could muster, although said smile was actually bordering on frightening. "You have some news?" he asked. His false happiness was painful.

"Err, yes." This time is was Ginny who spoke. "Mr. Malfoy, your son has asked me to marry him."

Lucius had expected this; his wife had heeded him at least that warning.

"Father, aren't you happy for me?" Draco asked.

In an attempt to be truthful, Lucius responded with, "I'm speechless."

Lucius grabbed his wife's arm and began to pull her from the room. He didn't think his day could get any worse.

"We're also expecting!" Draco shouted after his father as he placed a hand on his fiancée's belly. "Isn't that wonderful, Father? An heir?"

He was wrong.