Disclaimer: this is a new pairing of mine. I decided to write about them completely by accident, and I've discovered that I like them. Something about Potters and Malfoys together… Anyway, none of these characters are mine, as I'm sure you've guessed. I'm only turning my attention to another generation. Review when you're done please!
Goodbye
Kyra
Everyone knows that they hate each other. They have always hated each other, ever since they first met. Yet society demands that Lucius be polite to the other man. He must go up to Potter and shake his hand and say, with all evidence of sincerity, that he is glad that Potter could make it. It is what society expects, and Lucius is in no position to flaunt what society demands. After all, with his position at the ministry precarious, to be openly rude to the unbelievably popular James Potter would be one more rung on the ladder to social suicide. Lucius is conscious of his need to remain in the Ministry's good graces for as long as possible, and so he moves over to where Potter stands, pasting an expression of polite pleasure onto his elegantly handsome features.
"I am pleased that you could make it," Lucius says, acutely conscious of all the people listening in.
Potter is apparently aware of that too, because his answering nod is barely stiff at all. "I was honored to receive an invitation." His voice hasn't changed over the years; it is still slightly too boyish, slightly too exuberant. He makes no effort to moderate his volume, though Lucius knows he can whisper as well as the next man. He shoves that thought aside. Now is not the time to slip back into old memories.
He knows he should leave now. Potter's wife is drifting up, a look of polite interest on her face, and he knows that he should leave them alone. But he can't. He can't just walk away now. The sound of Potter's voice has awakened a sensation in him that he thought dead, and he cannot bear to lose it so soon. So he glances around, noting that most people turned away once it became evident that they were not going to attempt to curse each other into smithereens. Lucius' mouth turns up in a small sneer of disdain. How foolish most of these people are. Do they really think he and Potter will go at each other in public?
Potter is studying Lucius, his mouth tight. Lucius sees his fists clench at his sides, and he knows that Potter is feeling the same emotion. They might not have parted on the best of terms, but they did part, and everyone says separation makes the heart grow fonder. Though, in this case, perhaps it is merely childish emotions coming back under the stress of the meeting. Lucius clings to that hope, knowing that it would be the doom of everything he has worked to achieve to succumb to his feelings. He has waged a long and bloody war against them, and he will not allow them to ruin it for him now.
"You've changed," Potter remarks, his voice so low that none but Lucius can hear him.
Lucius scowls. "Did you expect me to stay sixteen forever, Potter? Though, you seem to have managed it, so why should I be surprised that you expect me to do the same?"
Potter scowls. "Watch it, Malfoy," he hisses. "I may have acquired some self control since you… left, but that doesn't mean I don't remember how to curse you."
"You won't," Lucius says confidently. "Not here. Not with your grasping mudblood wife coming up on us."
Potter's face twists into an expression of disgust. "Lily's worth a thousand of you," he spits. That hurts. Lucius fights to keep from wincing at Potter's words. He knows he deserves them, but he refuses to admit that to himself. His own fists clench.
"Your taste always was badly impaired," Lucius tells him, his voice little more than a sneer of disgust. "It makes me wonder what I ever saw in you."
Lucius smiles as he sees Potter's expression. He can hurt too, can hurt as much as Potter can. Bringing pain to others has long been one of his greatest talents.
Potter's wife comes now, eying Lucius with distaste. She leads Potter away, murmuring something to him. Lucius sees Potter glance back, just once, and his smile turns triumphant. He has won. He has made Potter look at him, not the other way around.
He returns to the rest of the guests, mingling and chatting like a good host should, all the time acutely aware of Potter's burning gaze. Lucius knows this game all too well. He has played it so many times himself, after all. Potter will find a way to get him alone, probably when the other guests are leaving, and then the real fun will begin. Lucius begins to muster his defenses as he pretends to listen to Mrs. Parkinson prattle on and on about the latest gossip. He nods politely whenever she looks at him, and she is satisfied, fool creature that she is. They are all satisfied, thinking him the perfect host, willing to treat with the enemy, always attentive and punctiliously polite. They know nothing.
He leaves her at last, scanning the crowd with bright gray eyes. Yes, Potter is still there, and he appears to be playing the same game as Lucius himself: nodding and smiling when he is addressed, not truly paying attention to anything his companion is saying. His wife is nowhere in sight, which is good. Lucius doesn't know how attuned she is to the game they are playing, and it would never do to have her bursting in at the wrong moment. Timing is critical, and she is not a part of his plan.
The crowd begins to thin as the hour grows late, and Lucius' senses are on hair trigger. He sees Potter come to him, and turns away, more for form's sake than anything else. He bids a polite farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson, all the time conscious that Potter is making his careful way towards him. When the black haired man finally arrives, Lucius is prepared. His smile is cool and distant, his face a mask of politeness. "Are you leaving so soon?" he asks, just as he has asked all the other departing guests.
"In a moment. May I have a moment of your time, Mr. Malfoy?" Potter's voice too is merely a mask, and the mask slips slightly on the last word. Lucius inclines his head.
"Of course. Perhaps outside, where we will not be disturbed?"
Potter follows him outside, his eyes wary. There is a bench in the courtyard. Neither of them take it.
"You wished to speak to me?" Lucius inquires, his voice calm and distant.
Potter nods once. He does not seem to know how to begin, and Lucius does not prompt him. Finally, Potter says, "How long has it been?"
"Does it matter?" Lucius asks. "It's over."
Potter's smile is sad. "Yes," he agrees. "We're both married and getting old now."
Lucius smiles, a tight, slightly contemptuous smile, the kind he is best at. "Have you given up your dreams of going professional, then?"
Potter shrugs, his face distant. There is a long moment of quiet. Finally, Potter asks, his voice almost a whisper, "Are you… happy?"
Lucius knows what he is asking. Are you sure you made the right choice? Do you ever regret it? He wants to hide, wants to lie for the sake of making Potter feel bad, but he cannot. Potter is looking at him, hazel eyes so earnest and openly curious that he cannot lie. "Occasionally."
"Why do you stay, then?" Potter demands. "Why don't you leave them?"
Lucius sighs. It is a real sigh, one of heartfelt sorrow, not impatience or scorn. "I can't," he says. "Not now. I don't think I ever could." He laughs, a bitter laugh that makes Potter frown. "And what would I have if I left?" It is a challenge. He is daring Potter to say it, challenging him to rise to the bait. Potter does not.
"Freedom," he answers. "Freedom to be who you are, not this person you've built up. Freedom to act, to speak, to love."
Lucius snorts at that. "Freedom to love?" he inquires acidly. "Perhaps. But not freedom to choose anyone to love."
Potter sighs in turn, and he is suddenly years older. His face is weary and etched with old pain. "No," he whispers. "Not that freedom. Not anymore."
Lucius nods. "So what is there to come back to?" he asks again. "A life no more fulfilling than the one I have now, and much more dangerous. That's not much incentive."
Potter's face is hard. Lucius knows that he is fighting against the pain, just as Lucius himself is fighting it. "You're right," Potter says, his voice dull. "It's not."
They look at each other for a long moment. Their eyes do not meet, but each knows instinctively what the other feels. Potter moves to leave the courtyard. "So then, this is goodbye forever, is it?"
Lucius shrugs. "I assume you will not join my side, and I cannot join yours, so yes."
Potter sighs. "I'll miss you," he says, his voice sincere. "I've missed you since you left."
Lucius shakes his head. "Don't live in the past," he advises. "It only brings pain."
Potter's voice is hard. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't spend every day dreaming about leaving the past behind? Some things aren't so easy to bury, Lucius."
They both freeze as the forbidden name slips out. For the first time, they truly meet each others' eyes, and Lucius nods slightly. "No, they don't." There is a momentary pause, and then he adds, so softly that it is barely heard, "James."
Potter leaves then, his back rigidly straight, his face hard. Lucius knows that he is merely hiding his emotions, and he knows that when he himself emerges, he will do the same. They will go back to their wives, both married to women they do not truly love, and they will continue fighting for their respective sides. Lucius knows that they will not see each other again, knows that the intimacy that was once theirs has been lost forever. Potter knows this too, and, minutes later, when Lucius has rejoined the party and Potter is taking his leave properly, his eyes bore into Lucius', and he murmurs, too low for his wife to hear, "Goodbye."
Lucius nods. "Goodbye," he agrees. He glances once at Potter's wife, who is looking slightly bored. In a more audible tone, he thanks them for coming, wishing them a polite goodnight and hoping they will come again. He does not, but etiquette dictates his words once again, and he has no choice but to say it. His eyes flicker once more to meet Potter's, and one last moment of perfect understanding connects them. Then the door is closed between them and the moment is gone. They will never see each other again. They are forever apart, never to speak to each other, never to set eyes upon each other. Their worlds no longer touch each other. It is truly goodbye.