This mammoth effort is done. It is for the Scenery Competition which produced the first paragraph and for the Choice Pairing Competition with the prompt "the end is only the beginning." As well, it is for the characterisation category in Lady's Writing School.
The stream seemed to giggle as it flowed into the lake. The light breeze whispered past stories and tales into the listener's ears. Its appearance was majestic with sparkling flashes of beautiful blues and greens. The water was the clearest and purest for hundreds of miles. It was an allure that drew humans and animals that were within hundreds of miles to the substance.
Perhaps in another life Lucius may have felt the same way. He may have even been tempted when the robes around his shoulders were engraved with a Slytherin crest, though of course he had been wise enough to avoid such an improper display. Other students might have been foolish enough to brave the frigid water of the Scottish Highlands, but even from a young age frivolity was something Lucius had been immune from.
Strangely now well into his forties he almost considered it. He could dive into the icy water and sink below the surface. His eyes would be closed and the water would hold him tight like the comforting embrace of his wife. He would not have to look at the chunks taken out of the ancient castle, the accusing gaze and the Aurors who kept glancing his way like they were about to seize him.
For the time he would be able to forget about everything and have some relief which he had not had for three years.
His stone cold eyes focused on the ripples before he forced himself to look away.
He did not have that luxury. He and his family were already a source of scorn. He could never allow that situation to worsen nor could he allow his reputation to falter even further.
He was not sure if it could or it would. Only one stage was complete.
The Dark Lord was dead. He had joined the Death Eaters at the age of eighteen and the mark had been burned onto his flesh. Bowing and being subservient before another was not something that Lucius Malfoy enjoyed, but he had still been pleased. He had dedicated himself to a group that would bring about pureblood supremacy, crush mudbloods and, once they were victorious which was inevitable considering the way the war was progressing, he would be granted a great position of power.
The plan had seemed flawless. However, over time he had come to regret his decision. It was a slow process, but, once the Dark Lord had been defeated by a baby and he had almost been sentenced to Azkaban, there was some regret. However, it had mostly disappeared in those thirteen years of peace and tranquillity with his wife and son.
Then, life was perfect. Mudblood might still have marred their society but he was high in the Ministry like his father and other Malfoys before them. It was good enough and promised advantageous acceleration. He knew from the way the Dark Lord had hinted at before his downfall that there was a possibility he might still be alive, but it had not motivated Lucius too much. He would not risk his or his family liberty of a possibility when he had plenty of power by himself.
Perhaps he had been wrong. Once the Dark Lord rose again, his decision to not find him had lowered his position in the ranks. It had only worsened when the Dark Lord discovered the diary he had given to him had been destroyed signalling a fury and rage that he did not quite understand which was worsened by the failure at the Ministry.
He had thought that his imprisonment within Azkaban would have been the worst that fate could have unleashed upon him.
He had been wrong.
In that time the Dark Lord had been enacted more vengeance than in Lucius' worst nightmares. His wife's soul had practically been torn apart and his poor son; the boy he had expressed some hidden pride for had been forced to try and kill Dumbledore. Draco was meant to have been killed. He was meant to not have succeeded, but the modest achievement of getting Death Eaters into Hogwarts had been the only thing that had saved his life.
Lucius had learned all of this when he had finally been released from Azkaban, but his homecoming had not been pleasant. He had been reduced to a prisoner within his home where he had been stripped of all his power and influence. The only thing he had was his family. They had barely survived as a unit.
Then he had been defeated. The Dark Lord had been killed. Lucius should now be free to regain his power and influence.
Lucius was not so sure.
Not someone who was vulnerable or needed others to be sure of himself and his decisions, a pit in the bottom of his stomach craved his wife. Not even her body- just her hand. Just so he could feel her flesh against his and have something secure. He never needed to worry about her. She was his rock and his perfection. It might not even be true, but he could believe they would never be separated.
At the moment she was not with him. She was doing her finally duty to her mad sister. Bellatrix had been killed that day. Even though Lucius did not mourn her loss, he knew it was only right that, even a pureblood witch who had deteriorated over the years, deserved some sort of proper burial. She would have a final respect in her last passing.
Still it was hard to not feel bitter at Bella stealing Narcissa from him when he most wanted her. He needed her now. He needed her now after the Dark Lord's death had signalled the end of that part of their life, but meant a new one had just begun. He needed her to know that the part would be a positive.
Standing, he flattened his robes and tried to press down the blonde locks that he had been most proud of but now hung in tangles.
It did not matter he thought as he strode back towards the Great Hall; and his family. He would be back to his perfection soon. The Malfoys would rise again.
They had to.
Lucius was normally someone who was proud of his own positives and skills. Despite going to hell and back his natural superior disposition was not seriously severed. However, even he felt slightly foolish about the difficulty he faced in finding his wife. He had searched through various destroyed corridors, the dark dungeons and even into the towers, but he eventually found her settled against one of the four house tables in the Great Hall. She sat with her usual grace like a head board was behind her, yet she sat so close to Draco her fingers twitching slightly to no doubt touch and hold him.
Even the ice on Lucius' face threatened to fall at the surge of love for his wife at her affection and her ability to be able to keep the correct front for the situation.
A part of his stomach leaped at the flows of her icy hair as he slowly approached her. He saw her tight robed back stiffen as she lifted her chin to turn around. She was prepared to battle for the safety of her son and her reputation, but, as soon as those sky blue eyes flicked over him, they softened. He saw a speck of water settle there and, despite the fact, it slipped away just as quickly, a part of him painfully clenched.
"Cissy," he murmured his voice soft so that no one could hear the gentleness and vulnerability that lingered below the surface. "My Darling."
She did not say anything but her finger stretched out slightly brushing against the soft cloth of his torn and dirty robes. He did not smile, but she would know he wanted to as she slowly sank down on the hard wooden bench. It was unbecoming of a Malfoy, but it was all that they had for now.
Draco's head looked up as he leaned slightly forward so their eyes could meet. Draco was paler than he should have been, his eyes watery and his hand shaking. One part of him wanted to scold his son for his lack of ability to preserve the correct front, but he did not. He could only give him a curt nod and be thankful he was there. He could so easily have been lost.
Together the three Malfoys could move forward and start their new beginning.
Their illusions that they could remain together lasted only a brief moment. They remained in the Great Hall with the victors to create the impression they were on the same side them and that they were allies. His wife's lie to the Dark Lord helped their case and Lucius was willing to seize on any opportunity they had to ensure they remained together and could preserve some semblance of power and influence.
It was worthwhile even if it made it seem that the Malfoys had lowered themselves into siding with mudbloods and blood traitors. It was an unappealing prospect but, if it saved them from Azkaban, it was something Lucius was an impression Lucius was allowing to linger for a moment until he could have the opportunity to crush it like it should be.
However, it could only work for so long. The hall might have been a bubble to guard against unwilling forces protected by the grief in the air but it would only last for so long.
Having eaten their fill and watched the cutlery empty and disappear, Lucius, Narcissa and Draco could only sit still and stare ahead for so long before the looks started. Lucius knew that they were asking why they were there. Lucius would have been fine to tell them that they had no right to question a Malfoys, but such statements would only increase the surge of negative feelings which was not required. Instead he was forced to resign himself to the fact that their time to linger had passed.
Still sitting straight his hand stretched under the table brushing against his wife's long fingers. They automatically tightened around his like Draco did when he was a baby.
She did not stop looking ahead until he twisted and spoke softly in her ear. "We have to move, Cissy. We cannot stay here and allow the mudbloods to question us and make a scene."
"It is easy here," she replied still without looking at him, "When we return home we will have to face the house where he was. The destruction he caused."
He sympathised with her, but he had to be strong. She had been strong for so long and he had to be the head and protector of the family. "I know my sweet, but we must."
His gaze flicked from Cissy to Draco who was leaning into the conversation though his mouth had not opened. Catching his eye, he gaze one curt nod.
The corners of her lips twitched but she nodded curtly. Her grip slipped from his and she rose with grace and perfect speed. Her robes folded around her as she stepped over the bench. However, she did not take an additional step. She only turned back to him and Draco. They both followed immediately. He did not reach for her again, but he stood as close as he could as they left the room. He could feel the eyes of many on them, but each Malfoy lifted their head high trying to maintain the proud stance that the war had tried to diminish. Lucius refused to be judged by the pathetic sap around them.
Lucius expected to step into the Entrance Hall to find more disapproving eyes. Instead he found something else; a troop of scarlet robed Aurors. His hard froze and his legs froze for a fraction of a second, but Narcissa was still moving and his steps quickly restarted because he could not leave her side.
His head was high. He was comfortable he could keep moving and ignore the Aurors. After all that he had been through they would not part his family and they would not take him away again.
He was so sure of that until the one of the Aurors that was gathered in a tight group stepped forward.
"Mr Malfoy stop!" declared the man trying to keep composed and declare his authority that Lucius knew did not exist. He was tempted to ignore the man, but the lack of weight of his wand in his pocket was noticeable. "We have some questions for you."
Like the Dark Lord was before him his stomach clenched painfully, but he did not cower. Malfoys did not show weakness.
"On what authority," he replied back swiftly without hesitation. Stretching to his full height he looked down his nose at the Auror who had dared question him. "I have no desire to stop on such an awful day without some sort of reason."
Inside Lucius smirked at the way the Auror twitched. He sent a look back at the other Aurrs but after receiving a curt nod he straightened. "There is plenty of evidence to suggest-"
"Generalisations mean nothing," Lucius snapped back. "I have no reason to listen to this. Come on Narcissa."
Casting one glance at Narcissa half as a reassurance for himself, he took one more step, but he was stopped when he heard footsteps behind him and another slow deep voice. "We have reasons, Mr Malfoy. We know you were fighting with You Know Who. That does not even touch on the obvious fact that you are wanted fugitive who escaped from Azkaban."
The absence of his wand was noted again. He could not do anything to resist. He cast one more longing stare at the exit and resisted looking at his wife for fear it may make his mask crack. "You are wrong. I have a wife and son to look after you cannot expect me to be taken from them."
"It is not for me to decide," the dark skinned Kingsley Shacklebott replied in his slow calm voice. "But you are under arrest. I suggest you go quietly."
"No! You cannot" Narcissa whimpered from beside of him. The noise made Lucius shudder as her hands curled around his. "You cannot leave us again."
Lucius' fingers tightened despite the public watching. However he still did not look at anyone but the dark eyes of Shacklebott. "If you insist, but I assure you once I am found to be wrongly imprisoned I will begin proceedings for wrongful arrest."
Shacklebott did not flinch and with it Lucius' last hope was gone. However, he would still not back down. As his he heart sank he stood taller and gave his wife one last squeeze. "I will see you soon," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. "Look after Draco."
Without looking he turned back to them. "Fine. I will go."
The Aurors nodded and one stepped forward. Lucius allowed them to lead him out.
He would get out. He swore he could. His new beginning could not begin with being sentenced to life in Azkaban again.
It was a terrible recurring nightmare. The hell he had endured for an entire year had returned. The same cold stones were his only surface. The smell of decay and vomit penetrated his nose. The coarse iron still blocked his exit.
He knew Azkaban had been worse when the dementors were there. He knew the horror of those creatures was undisputed, but trapped and reduced to wearing rags while he worried about his wife and child was enough of a punishment.
There was no reprieve. There was no halt to his terrible thoughts. He could close his eyes but the image of the prison would still be stuck to his vision. Before he could at least hope the Dark Lord could lead an effort to break open the prison again. As awful as it had been to rely on the Dark Lord when he knew he was furious, it had seemed promising. Now he had no hope.
He would have to rely on his own abilities. They were considerable, but the war had minimised his opportunities. After one imprisonment in Azkaban, no amount of money changing hands would ever make him appear to be innocent.
The only thing he could rely on is that weak Potter would feel sorry for the family because of Cissy lying to the Dark Lord and that somehow he could use some of the other tools he had; namely information. He would always hate the mudbloods and blood traitors and he would always support the pureblood doctrine, though, if he had to betray his fellow Death Eaters to be released, he would. He knew where a number of safe houses were. He could just hope he would have the opportunity.
Hiding is shaking hands behind his back, he settled into the cold stone wall. He hoped that chance would come soon. If not he would need some more direct steps to get his say.
Lucius' shivering and suffering was only interrupted when his death glare at the iron bars was marred by the click of heels reaching his ear. Despite the fact the footwear could describe almost any woman, he froze and stood swiftly his eyes wide and pleading.
Azkaban could break Lucius' cold demeanour.
The noise grew louder and he was rewarded with the most welcoming sight.
In all the darkness of Azkaban, the white blonde of her hair, her flawless skin and her impeccable robes stood out. Her face was twisted into a look of sorrow and for that reason alone fury filled Lucius' veins. No one could ever upset his Cissy.
"Lucius," she murmured stepping away from the guard and close to the bars. Her gloved hands wrapped around the iron as he drew closer. "My darling, are you alright?"
He could not answer her. He could not reveal his weakness or build her head with his distress. He could not. He only rose and placed his hands over hers. They were filthy; the dirty grey contrasting with the pure white fabric, but he had to touch her. He had to have some link and some grasp with his proper life.
"Cissy," he whispered trying to keep his voice soft. "It will be alright."
She did not even smile. She only looked like she was going to cry. Her blonde locks were blocking others view of her so only he could see the depths of emotions in her face.
"I will get you out." Her face blazed with commitment as she threaded her fingers through his. "I promise. I have been talking to Potter and if you show some signs of changing ways they might allow you to leave."
"Then I will do it. I will do anything to be with you and Draco again."
She nodded the first spots of tears leaking from her eyes. He could not stand to see her like that. It broke him inside. Pressing his face through the bars he managed to brush his lips against hers. He was dirty and filthy, there was little room to do much other than move some of his mouth through the bars, but it was a loving kiss and it was almost enough in this place.
It did not stop her tears. He only felt them sticking to his face as he pulled away.
"It will be alright. I will soon be free and we can start everything again. I promise it will be alright."
"I promise I won't stop until you are free. I will not stop until you are back with Draco and I."
He nodded and squeezed her hand. "We will back together as a family soon."
He did not say he hoped. He tried to tell himself he knew. He tried to tell himself that Malfoys could not ever lose.
He could not convince himself so instead he just focused on her face. Her beautiful face was what would get him through.