Author's Note: Written for…
Clue/Cluedo Game Challenge. Suggestion #4 in end notes.
The A-Maze-Ing Race Challenge. Prompt: nib
Open Category Competition 2. Category: Marauder Era
First Kill
Christmas was the most boring holiday in existence, in Lucius' opinion.
Before Hogwarts, Christmas had meant something different. Parties that lasted 'til long passed his bedtime; more presents than the house-elves could cram under the tree; extended holidays abroad. But Lucius was a sixth-year now, and he'd been excluded from those activities long enough to expect anything different than an empty common room and making small talk with the professors over meals.
His parents were in France this year – it was always somewhere different – and they'd managed to remember to send him a card that played God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs when opened. Lucius threw it in the fireplace first chance he had.
It was two days into break and he was already bored out of his mind. He spent a lot of time wandering aimlessly around the common room. Today he was taking a particular interest in the suits of armor that flanked the grand fireplace.
He'd always admired the suits, ever since he first laid eyes on them as a first-year. They represented something he wanted to be someday. Strong. Unwavering. No one would mess with them.
It was as he was studying the suits that he felt arms snaking their way around his waist.
"Flint's finally gone to bed. We have the common room all to ourselves," a voice from behind whispered in his ear.
Lucius smiled, taking hold of the hands trying to undo his shirt buttons. "My dorm is more private, if you'd prefer."
"I thought you liked danger." She spun him around and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips.
"Oh, I do. I just don't fancy Flint walking in on us and shouting about it in the Great Hall when everyone gets back."
"So let him. What's the point in keeping us a secret?"
Lucius pulled back sharply. "Diane, I thought we agreed … it's not wise. My father-"
"Your father will what, Lucius? Ground you? You're turning seventeen in a few months, isn't it time you started making your own decisions?"
"It's not that simple," he sighed. So much for this Christmas being different. He was actually starting to look forward to this one. Two whole weeks where he didn't have to hide his relationship with Diane while trying to get Narcissa to be more like her. The two women were complete opposites and it had driven him crazy, trying to please them both for the last three months.
"This isn't about Black again, is it?"
"Diane-"
"Oh, don't tell me! Your father picked her out for you?"
"No, Di, it's not like that."
"Then what?"
"This isn't going to work – you and I. It's great, but it won't last. Cissa … she's not like you, but she's who I need to be with."
She scoffed, shaking her head at him. "You purebloods are all the same. I wonder what your precious Cissa will do when she finds out you've been seeing a lowly halfblood behind her back all this time."
She tried to run off to her dorm, but Lucius grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. He only meant to hang onto her, to talk her out of it, but she pulled away at the wrong time and was flung in the suit of armor. It broke apart and collapsed on top of her.
Lucius knelt by her side immediately, calling her name and using any spell he could think of to try and resuscitate her, but she was already dead.
It was three minutes before he could pick himself up from the floor. He had actually cared for Diane. He hadn't meant for any of this to happen.
He shakily made his way to one of the desks and took some parchment and a quill from the drawer. His father would know what to do … he could fix it. The nib of the quill broke as he scribbled his plea for help.
He sent it off and then headed to bed, thankful that Flint went to bed drunk nearly every night and wouldn't be up 'til long after the mess in the common room was cleaned up.
Author's Note: Suggestion #4!
Suspect: Lucius Malfoy
Weapon: Suit of Armor
Location: Common Room