A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition, Year 3, Round 1.
House: Gryffindor
Year: Head Girl
Category: Standard
Prompts: 4. [Weather] Snow
Word count: 1483 words (written on Google docs)
Betas: Thank you to Shiba (Shibalyfe), Lynne (silently-at-night), and Miranda (BetterYouThanMe) for beta'ing, and to CK (Theoretical-Optimist), Jenny (Claude Amelia Song), and Aethra (Arthea) for helping with the plot! Xx
I have no explanation for this :') Oh, but Brutus was the name selected as a possible Malfoy and Dobson (thanks to CK) is the father of Dobby.
Lucius and the Snowman
Lucius Malfoy was not useless.
Lucius knew his grandfather hadn't really meant for him to build a snowman, that it was all just an excuse so he would stop touching his grandmother's precious trinkets. Still, he bit the bottom of his lip as he continued to pat a ball of white mush tightly together, determined to not prove to be as 'useless' as his grandfather had said he was. The old man had told him to build a snowman, and so a snowman the man would get.
"Hold still," the ten-year-old said, glaring at the trembling house-elf in front of him.
Dobson whimpered. "Yes, Master Luci—"
Rolling his eyes, Lucius slapped the snowball over the creature's mouth. He cringed as the icy cold of the snowball seeped into his gloves, but he didn't stop. Bending down again, he formed another tight ball of white powder. With a steady hand, he then pushed it against the elf's cheek, covering up its wrinkly skin.
Lucius had already tried to create a snowman the traditional way, but he had soon grown frustrated trying to make the snow stick together. In true Malfoy fashion, however, he had found an even better way, and after he finished packing the rest of the snow into shape, he smirked to himself.
"Are you deaf boy? I've been calling for ages now. Where's that wretched house-elf? "
"I finished the snowman you wanted," Lucius said, watching as his grandfather came storming into the courtyard.
"What in Merlin's beard is that?"
Lucius puffed out his chest. "A snowman."
The old man looked at the structure for a moment. Then, without any warning, he reached forward and pulled Dobson out, sending the rest of the snow crumbling down.
"You call that a snowman? You're even more useless than I thought." The man kicked at the elf, sending the shivering creature sprawling forward. "Hurry up; lunch is ready."
Lucius didn't follow him as he ambled back towards the house, cursing under his breath. Instead, the boy glared at the mound of slush where the elf had stood, his smirk gone.
He was not useless, and he would prove it.
Lucius Malfoy was not a quitter.
"Master Lucius? Dobson is sorry but Dobson thinks that Master Lucius should answer his grandfather."
Lucius hadn't intended on making another snowman—ever. However, after his grandfather had sent him back outside for the third time that week, this time calling him useless because he had failed to show any interest in The Daily Prophet's business section, he had found himself, once again, trying to prove the man wrong. Lucius Malfoy was not useless, and he was not a quitter.
"Okay, I think that's about it," the blond said, taking a step back to admire his work.
The snowman was a little misshapen, but at least the head wasn't falling off anymore.
"Dobson needs to go. Master Brutus is calling Dobson," the little elf squeaked.
Before he could Apparate to answer his master, however, Lucius lunged forward and pulled the elf back by his pillowcase.
"No, you will stay here. Grandfather will just have to come outside and fetch us."
Dobson trembled underneath Lucius' grasp, and the blond could tell that it wasn't simply because he was cold. Part of him felt the need to cower, too; his grandfather would most certainly be furious that he had to travel back out in the snow. Still, he remained where he was, and waited for his grandfather to appear.
Sure enough, the man soon came storming up the garden path, his cane the only thing holding him upright on the slippery ice.
"If I find out that you've gone and buried my elf again—" his grandfather began, stopping when Lucius shoved the house-elf forward.
"No, sir, but I did build another snowman. Properly, this time," Lucius said.
His grandfather's ice-blue eyes narrowed as he peered at the snowman. When he turned back to him, Lucius was surprised by the way his lips curled upwards.
"You still think that is a snowman?"
The blond looked at his work, nodding. He had even gone so far as to stick two twigs into it as arms, with a third twig representing the snowman's wand.
"Pitiful child, you really are determined to show me up, eh? Well then, if you want to build a snowman, prove it," his grandfather said. Before Lucius could protest, the man knocked the head off the snowman. "Let's see you build a proper one."
"P-pardon?" Lucius tried to stop his lip quivering, knowing that he'd be rapped by the cane for such weakness.
His grandfather turned to the house-elf instead. "Dobson, tell Madam Malfoy that we'll be having lunch out here, and bring me my cloak. Now." Then, snapping his fingers, he turned back to Lucius. "Well, get to it."
Taking a deep breath, Lucius pushed down his annoyance and turned back to what was left of his snowman.
Lucius Malfoy was nothing less than perfect.
It had taken another three days, but he had finally done it. Everything about the snowman was perfect, from the pointed hat he had 'borrowed' from his grandmother's wardrobe, to the row of shiny buttons down the centre of the snowman's body. It was by far better than any of the designs his grandfather had made him re-do, and now he couldn't wait for the old grump to make his way to the courtyard.
"Well, is he coming?" the boy asked, dancing from foot to foot as he scanned the grounds for a sign of the man.
"Master Brutus is coming; Dobson made sure of it," the house-elf said.
Lucius nodded once. He soon saw his grandfather tapping his way to their usual meeting spot, and he straightened his back.
It was time.
"Any improvement from this morning?" the man drawled.
He could've sworn his eyes held the barest hint of amusement, but Lucius didn't dare let that break his concentration. Instead, he cleared his throat, and with a gentle tap on the snowman's carrot nose, he let the magic happen.
The snowman sprang to life. With slow, exaggerated movements, it dusted off the snow falling on its arms and waved them up and down.
Lucius had a hard time keeping the smirk off his face. He had discovered that piece of accidental magic earlier that morning, but hadn't been sure at the time how he had done it. He had been frustrated that the carrot nose wouldn't stay on, and with a rather hard push, had shoved it through the snowman's head. When the structure had then started moving his arms forward, he had spent another few hours working out the connection.
"Well…" his grandfather said, a gloved hand running across his blond moustache.
Lucius turned to him, waiting for the compliments to roll in. His grandfather finally seemed to be impressed.
"Well…" he said again. "I suppose that is a snowman."
Finally.
"But, when I was your age, my snowman could wave and wink," his grandfather added.
The blond watched the old man amble back up towards the house, before turning and kicking the snowman.
"What do you mean 'he isn't coming?' Go fetch him!" Lucius pushed the little elf away, his narrowed eyes focused on the manor.
He had been waiting for twenty minutes for his grandfather to come outside, eager to show him his snowman that could now wave and wink.
"Dobson is sorry, Dobson is. But Master Brutus is in bed—"
"Go get him!" Lucius said, turning to his creation.
The snowman winked at him, oblivious to his situation. If his grandfather had seen such an action, he probably would've smirked, but as it were, the snowman was out here with him and not with his grandfather. Unless…
"Wait. Elf, I'm going to need you to hold your hands out."
Lucius held his breath as the snowman's head winked at his grandfather from where it sat on the bed. The old man's lips were drawn together in a thin line, making it difficult to tell what he was thinking.
"The arms also wave, don't they, Dobson?" Lucius said.
The little elf stopped rubbing his hands together, cold water still dripping off them from having carried the snowman's head inside, and nodded.
"Malfoys don't boast," his grandfather said. There was just the barest hint of a smile on his face, though, and Lucius' heart lifted.
"Merlin's beard! What is that thing doing on the new bedspread? There's water everywhere! Useless boy!"
Unfortunately, his grandmother had chosen that moment to come in and see the clumps of snow melting on the bed, and Lucius rushed from the room before her hand could find his posterior.
Pausing at the door, he chanced one last look at his grandfather.
Blue eyes met grey as the old man gave him a wink, and Lucius smiled.
Lucius Malfoy was not useless, and his grandfather knew it, too.