A/N: Hello everyone~ Here is my another story about Lucius losing his memories. The parts with Italic are from Lucius's aspect and are either dream or previous memories.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
01.
He was lost.
The place was big. Too big that it felt empty. He looked up at the ceiling and the beautiful chandelier hanging from above. Besides him was the spiral stairs of which end he could not see. The house was quiet and he suddenly felt confused. He did not know where he was, nor why would he be here.
He looked around and saw the fresh flowers in a crystal vase by the window. Three roses. One white, one yellow and one red. He walked towards the window and touched the flowers with his index finger. It felt like the finest velvet. He bent down and inhaled the scent of the flowers. It was sweet and delicate. The sun was setting and he wondered what those flowers would be like in nightfall. He narrowed his eyes and smirked. The white one would be like the luminous moon—cold, alone and unreachable; the red one would be like those sinful lips which could only belong to some cheeky witches because what ever came from those—
Someone touched his wrist, right on the vein that beats along with his heart. He turned around too quickly and —
Had he mentioned some alluring red lips?
The witch before him smirked and spoke with that soft but naughty voice which made his heart itchy,
"I see you are boring."
"I did not see you."
He had not thought he would reply but he did and it felt like someone had helped him. Maybe he was magical after all.
She looked at him with her head askew and raised an eyebrow amusingly at him. As if she found something interesting.
He could not help but noticed that she had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. They were pure and absolute. At that very moment all he had in his mind was that he would not mind if Slytherin replaced green with blue, only if the same one that he was looking into now.
"What?"
He smiled back, not at all mind her curious but obvious stare.
"You do remember that you still owe me a dance right?"
She pulled him into the dancing pool and joined the others under the dim light.
He did not say anything but automatically pulled her into his arms, his left hand on her slim waist.
There was some slow Tango at the background. Something he decided he liked from this moment. Or maybe later as right now all his attention was at somewhere else.
Her hand was cold. Her fingertips danced on his skin like those butterflies in his stomach and the electricity sparked along his spin. Her skin was pale and smooth like ivory. She had long lashes and eyes as blue as a deep spring under bright moonlight. Her lip as red as those new grown roses flourished by fresh blood. She must be a Veela if not a Vampire.
This must be a trick or a trap, but he fell anyway.
He lowed his head painfully slowly. His forehead touched hers, followed by the tip of his nose. He could feel her breath mixed with his. She smelt like flowers. He held her closer and closed his eyes. Their lips touched.
He jerked awake with his heart racing and aching in his chest. He slowly turned his head on the pillow. Someone turned around from the window. The same pale skin. The same blond hair. The same blue eyes.
Then he said, without any emotion, like stating some solid fact, he said,
"You never came."
02.
"You never came."
That was the first thing he said to her.
An emotionless accuse that broke her heart at the very moment.
She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but could not really trust herself. So she bit her tongue and shut her mouth.
She silently walked over to the bed and sat beside him. She held his hand. Hers was as cold as ice. The weather was to be blamed and she hoped he would not mind.
He didn't. Or even if he did he did not show as he remained his hand still, in hers.
He was looking at her. Like every time when he wanted an answer from her. His eyes persist. She knew better than attempt to ignore that as he would always win in the end.
She forced a smile on her lip and gave him the water on the bedside table, which was kept warm, along with some pills.
"You should have some medicine now."
She said. Her voice dry and hoarse, which reminded her of a drained well. If that was the case then why her eyes felt tear again?
He did not take the water, nor the pills.
"I waited for you. I waited for you every second when I was awake. I kept myself away from sleep as long as possible, afraid that if you came when I was asleep I would not know."
She tried to stop him, tried to really say something this time but he continued.
"But you did not. I looked through the window only to see you with some other—"
He was trying to find the word and she could see how his eyebrow knitted and fire burned in his eyes.
He paused for some time and when he finally spoke again he had gave up whatever he wanted to say at the first place. Instead he repeated himself.
"You never came."
She looked at him, held him tighter in her hand.
"I come now."
He looked at her, without a word. So she kept going,
"And I was not with someone else. I would never be with anyone else."
He still did not say anything but stared at her, as if trying to decide whether her words were trustworthy.
Finally, he spoke up,
"And you will not leave."
She smiled, which did not reach her eyes. He was like some childish boy asking for chocolate frogs.
She ran her fingers through his smooth and soft hair. She signed and promised,
"I will not leave."
"Now take the pills and have some more rest."
He did what she said and lay down again. Her hand slid down to stroke his cheek bones and jaw.
She asked just before he closed his eyes,
"And you will remember right? You will remember that I stayed?"
He looked at her as if that was a stupid question with the most obvious answer,
"Of course I will remember."
She smiled and kissed his forehead,
"Now sleep."
She watched him finally closed his eyes and his breath became even. And she knew the next time he opened his eyes he would forget anything that happened just now.
She stayed with him twenty hours a day and every time he woke up he said she never came. He thought he was in bed because he was hurt during one of his training session for the final Quidditch competition with Gryffindor, which was years ago. He blamed her walking with another…guy, which she guessed was a politer description than what he had had in his mind, was even before. They were from so long ago and she was somewhat surprised that he still did not let such things go.
She looked down at her hand, which was now firmly held by his. He asked her promise and promised back that he would remember, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. Only he never remembered.
He never remembered.
03.
The sun was warm and bright. He sat on the grass leaning against a tree outside the castle, with some other sixth grade Slytherins. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. They were having a picnic like afternoon tea as they always did on such nice weather. He stretched his legs lazily on the grass and watched absent-mindedly at some girls sitting around the lake and chatting.
"She looks absolutely extraordinary."
His heart skipped a beat as he thought he had spoken out his mind aloud. It was then that he realized it was Augustus Rookwood who made the noise. He smirked and followed his dirty eyes to see who was the bad luck girl that caught the eyes of the dense head. Until he saw the blond haired figure who he had been admiring himself.
He could feel himself burning with rage.
The bastard was looking at his girl with those filthy eyes. Well at least he was not blind this time. But again, the point was that he was looking at his girl. HIS.
"Shut up Rookwood you are destroying a beautiful day."
He forced those words from his teeth and tried to sound as casual as possible.
Rookwood looked at him and laughed as if he knew anything,
"Hell I didn't destroy a single minute and ya know ya just wanted to lie down a girl."
He saw his screwed face from the sideways of his eyes. For Salazar Slytherin's sake. Merlin knows he used all the manner he had got since the time he was born to stop himself from hitting him right here right now, so hard that his nose would be crushed and he would have no face to see anyone for the rest of his life.
That might be why he grabbed her into a hidden corridor and trapped her between his arms and the stone wall on her way back to Slytherin dungeon.
She looked panicked. Only for the very first seconds. He took that as before she realized that it was him.
"You look astonishing today."
One of his hand held above her shoulder and touched the stone wall while the other softly stroked her hair.
"You noticed."
He looked down at her, his brows knitted and a ghost of smile around the corner of his lip,
"So did everyone else."
She tilted her chin up and looked up at him, her eye shining,
"Is that jealousy I heard?"
He did not reply but his hand was on her neck now, the callus on his fingertips tickle. She knew he would not take the bait that easily.
"You know wizard laws retain the right for everyone to look at anything they wish."
"Someone else's girlfriend excluded."
There was the seriousness and the slightest annoying in his voice which amused her so she intentionally batted her eyelids at him and said with her sweet voice mixed with the faked confusion,
"I thought I am still single?"
He looked at her with the kind of smirk that only he could present,
"Was that a challenge?"
She replied also with a smirk,
"What if it was?"
He chuckled and said,
"I will take your asking a question in reply as a yes to my invitation of going to Hogsmeade with me then."
04.
She came as fast as she could from the burden of affairs waiting to be solved once she was informed that he was awake.
If she looked into her own dictionary now there must be an annotate under the word accident, which was having him waking up with her no where to be found.
The doctor said, which was also confirmed by her observations, that he would wake up every time in a new while unknown status, which was usually better when she was with him. When occasionally she was buried with something else and was not, he tended to be more unstable and might do something unexpected. There was one time he got so nervous and angry that all the windows in their bedroom smashed. She did not care a thing about those expensive glasses but was afraid he would be hurt. There were a few cuts on his arms and bare chest that she cured with her advancing medical skills. But it still and always would make her heart ache every time he was hurt.
She did not know what she was expecting when she opened the bedroom door. He sat peacefully in his armchair with the newest Quidditch magazine in his hand. Like he always do when he was waiting for her, in the old times, before everything fell. Only other times it would be Daily Prophet he read.
She stood at the door frame, looking at him. As if sensed something he looked up from the magazine and at her.
"You look tired."
He had put down the magazine. His eyes soft and his voice gentle, which made everything harder cause she just wanted to give in and tell him everything.
She let herself lean on the frame, her fingers curled.
"It had been worse."
She was a not a person who liked complain. Being the smallest daughter in her family made her realized long ago that complaining could get her nowhere.
He nodded.
"How are you feeling?"
She could not help but ask. She did not know what he was thinking so she would just let him tell her and try to keep the situation under control in case anything occur.
"I'm fine."
He answered absent-mindedly. Like when he was talking to anyone else. Anyone else but her. Which meant that his answer was automatic and he did not actually care.
She hated these times.
He had been better recently. He no longer accused her absent. He would greet her and ask her how was her day. Sometimes he thought they would go to Hogsmeade together as a weekly plan, or he would buy some Quidditch tickets and take her with him. Other times he would just talk to her, about school, life and everything. He had remembered a lot of things. Most of them she was involved. Only they were not ANOUT her. He never said her name.
But then, his gaze was still on her.
"I know you."
He sounded confused, like a child saying that mummy would leave and so did everyone else, in a confirmed tone but not really understanding why.
Her vision blurred. She was panicked and afraid of whatever he was going to say. She had to walk towards him and kneel down.
"You do?"
"I remember you saying my name."
He looked down at her and murmured. In those day dreaming voice, as if he was flying, or falling. His thumb wiped away the tear she did not know had fell.
"What else do you remember?"
Her whisper so low that could barely be heard.
"That I promised I will come home, before sunrise."
05.
It was a raid.
He had just started his shift and no one had expected anything to happen.
It was not even midnight.
He heard those whistles like scissors tearing up the dark and silent nightfall.
They were covered by black hoods, which made them hard to be distinguished from the dark sky. Only Dementors did not use eyes. They chased after emotions and seized the happiest moments.
He could feel them approaching.
For the first time he took the rumors about how people from his family were emotionless seriously. If then, he would be able to remain his icy mask and be the fearless hero, even towards Dementors. He would be the omnipotent husband who always keeps his promises and—
And go home.
But again he was far from emotionless and he could even feel the changes of his mood with the losing of his precious memory.
Dismay.
Depress.
Desperate.
He saw everything that happened before sneaked away like some fast-forwarding movie.
How could his memory be so happy while he was on the edge of breaking?
He felt so powerless and helpless. The taste of fear was bitter.
He squeezed his wand and searched for any left happiness.
He was the happiest man in the world. He had his beloved with him.
Those long blond hair that reached her shoulder. She was running but turned and smiled at him, her hand in his. They lay together on the ground, the breeze raised her hair which tickled his jaw…
All of these were vanishing. He felt himself falling from his broom and heading to the embrace of darkness…
It was then he heard his name.
She was calling his name.
On the party of her sister's graduation; at Hogsmeade in front of the Three Broomsticks; in the empty classroom close to Slytherin dungeon and besides his ear…
He felt himself smile and asked,
"What?"
She hugged him and kissed the corner of his lip,
"I want to see you at home before sun rises tomorrow morning."
He saw a silver Alopex jumping from the tip of his wand and started running, forming a solid protection around him.
He kissed her back and promised,
"I will come home, before sunrise."
A/N:Thanks for bearing my obsession with memory issues. Hope you enjoyed and tell me what you think!