Challenge Prompt: Write about a Slytherin (Lucius Malfoy)

Setting: Malfoy manor, shortly after the Malfoys have been pardoned for their crimes, following Voldemort's defeat at the Battle of Hogwarts.

Lucius sighed as he opened the doors to his private study. It was much as it had ever been, a room he kept sacrosanct even during the height of the Dark Lord's power. Simultaneously opulent and comfortable, it was every inch what one would expect to see from a Malfoy. He ignored the desk to his left (and the drink cabinet behind it), as well as the bookcases to his right (though he he'd need them in a minute), and moved straight to the pair of comfortable chairs arranged before the fireplace on the far end of the room. He took a seat in the chair on his left, and waited.

Draco, who he had asked to accompany him into his study for the first time, took the room in for just a minute, before taking the seat on his right. They had been pardoned of all crimes, thanks to his wife's timely defection and the testimony of one Harry Potter.

"So… what now?" Draco's voice carried a hint of despair… this wasn't just a son seeking guidance, it was a young man whose entire world had been shaken.

"Now, Draco, we do what the Malfoys have always done. We wait, we endure, and we prosper." Lucius's voice was quiet, but firm.

"But father, everyone knows. Everyone knows we were on his side. Even if we never do anything wrong again, nobody will forget what we did, who we supported." Draco's voice would no doubt sound firm to anyone else, but Lucius knew his son well enough to detect the slight quaver that betrayed his son's nervousness.

"Son, it's time you were shown the family grimoire. You need to understand where we've been, so that you can see where to go from here." Lucius stood, and walked over to the bookshelves. Standing before them, he held both hands in front of him, and he intoned softly, "expecto, sustineo, prospero." An ancient tome appeared in his hands, and he walked over to Draco.

"This, is the full history of the Malfoys. Everything we have done, for good and ill, since your ancestor Armand Malfoy first came to England in the 11th century." Lucius handed the tome to Draco. "It does not leave this room, ever. It is not duplicated, ever. Every year, we add to it anything of significance. The events surrounding the dark lord's defeat need to be added, but perhaps you should read it first."

Draco looked at the tome with awe; it was surprisingly small, but when he opened it he saw the familiar shuffling of pages that indicated there was far more inside the book than was immediately apparent. Then his expression clouded again and he closed the tome. "I think you've made our history apparent, father. Pureblood superiority, something that ensures we'll be hated by the new Ministry."

Lucius nodded. "Of course. The Malfoys have always been pure of blood. The fact that we have refused to inbreed like the Gaunts and the Blacks, choosing instead to marry half-bloods, has not diminished this fact."

Draco was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head. "That's different. Only the fanatical are willing to ruin their families, to chance squibs and deformity for the sake of blood, but our stance on muggles has always been clear."

Lucius smiled. "Of course. We have never sullied ourselves by associating with muggles. Unless you count the times before the Statue of Secrecy, of course, when Malfoys regularly dealt with high muggle society. Much of our earliest wealth came from muggle lords, and some very favorable trade deals we had with them. They didn't care how we got business done, just that we got it done."

Draco stared. "But if that's true, why do we always talk about pureblood superiority?"

Lucius stood walked to the drink cabinet, and began to fix himself and his son each a drink. House elves would never see this room, and it gave him something to do while he spoke. "Because when the statute of secrecy was passed, there was a rather virulent anti-muggle sentiment in the wizarding world. We had vocally opposed the new laws; it was not muggles we wished to avoid, it was the poor. The working class has its place, but that place is far below us, and the wealthy muggles had far more to offer us than the poor wizards. But, with the witch hunts escalating, the statute of secrecy was inevitable. Once it passed, we left the muggles behind for good, and adopted the stance of pureblood superiority we've kept to this day. The muggles were beneath us, and by helping to reinforce the wizarding elite as superior, we were well positioned to gain their support."

Lucius walked back to his son, handing him a glass. "This is one of the things that the wizarding world has left behind. You hold in your hand a glass of Dalmore 64 Trinitas, a somewhat famous muggle whiskey. Only three bottles were ever made, and each bottle costs more than most muggles make in a year. That one glass is more expensive than the robes you're wearing, and it is just one of the many pleasures the muggle world has to offer."

Draco stared at the glass in his hand, a mixture of appreciation and confusion on his face. "Where did you get this? Why do you have it?"

Lucius smiled as he reclaimed his seat. He drank, savoring the dry burn of the whiskey before speaking. "Because we are Malfoys, son. We possess the best, because we are the best, and if the best drink on the planet is a muggle whiskey, then that is what we shall drink."

Draco stared at his glass a long moment, before taking a large gulp. Lucius didn't hide his smirk as Draco coughed and choked on the drink. "Though, like firewhiskey, it does take some getting used to before you can drink it like that."

Draco put his glass and the Grimoire down on the floor and stood up. "This is absurd, nobody is ever going to believe you! You've been so outspoken all these years, and you barely got away with the Imperius excuse last time."

Lucius gave a slight shrug. "I overplayed my hand, true. Isn't it fortunate, then, that my heir is just coming into his power? Old enough now to think for himself and make his own decisions, free of the horrible influence of his father? Nobody would believe that you suddenly love muggles... but to be content to see them exist as long as you don't have to deal with them? To publicly support policies of tolerance and compassion while keeping your personal affairs strictly traditional, to set yourself apart? To publicly mingle with a few powerful muggleborns… Miss Granger, perhaps… but to never dally with them, or invite them into your home? These are things people will believe. As to them not forgetting what we've done….

Lucius gestured to the Malfoy Grimoire, "There are very few true secrets in there, Draco. If you ask any historian, they will tell you of our dalliances with the muggles in the time before the Statue of Secrecy. They will even happily tell you a few rumors about my namesake and a muggle queen of old. But the public doesn't know, because the common folk don't care. They care about their families and their petty problems, while the truths of power and politics rise above them."

Finishing his drink, Lucius stood. "Think back on your time at Hogwarts. How often did the school love Harry Potter? How often did they hate him? Certainly, they'll love him forever now, but we don't want to be kings, Draco. In that history, you will see that every Malfoy has been powerful, rich, and influential, but never have we been Ministers of Magic or Kings. Those figures rise and fall, and it would not do to fall with them. I came far too close to that this time, but you can do better."

Lucius walked to the door of the study, before stopping and looking back at his son. "Find yourself a suitable bride. Someone you can love, but someone who is also well suited to support your ambitions. A pureblood who isn't a supremacist would do nicely. I believe you expressed interest in one of the Greengrass daughters some time ago, did you not? That match would be well suited to give you influence without any overt ties to the fallen order. Read our history, and learn how we have endured."

"Father, wait." Draco took a step forward. "You never let anyone into your study! Why are you leaving?"

"The Malfoy patriarchs have a tradition we have kept since that grimoire was first written, Draco. Our studies are our own, inviolate and private from everyone, save for our heirs. When the time comes, we bring our chosen heir into the study, and reveal these truths… as we pass the study and the Grimoire on. You, Draco, will be the one to write into the Grimoire the story of Voldemort and our dalliance with him. Write the truth, as you want it to be remembered by our family. I will never see it, as I will never set foot in this room again. It is yours, now. Whatever public stance we take, whichever one of us publicly acts in the name of Malfoy, you are the true Patriarch of this family now. I no longer have the power to lead us to greatness, so I entrust that position to you. The Grimoire can answer any questions you might have; when you are finished, I'll be with your mother in the lounge."

It was a week before Draco spoke to either of his parents. He emerged from the study for meals and to rest, but spent the rest of his time alone. Narcissa worried after their son's well-being, but Lucius knew he would be fine. That he was taking this long meant that he was studying, and learning.

Draco found his parents in the lounge, as his father had promised. Draco didn't know whether his father has spent all his time here since their last meeting, or if somehow Lucius had known when to be here. His parents were both reading the latest edition of the Prophet as he walked in.

"Father?" Lucius looked up at his son; he no longer looked uncertain. The expression in his eyes reminded him of his own, before he had fallen in with Voldemort.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I wish to begin courting Astoria Greengrass. I believe you were correct when you said she would be well-suited; if you would make the necessary arrangements? She will be attending Hogwarts this fall, and I wish to have a betrothal in place before that time."

"Draco!" Narcissa stood. "That's wonderful, but when you're speaking to your father…"

"Narcissa" Lucius cut in. "Draco spoke exactly as he should have. I'll see it done, my son."

Draco nodded once, and as he turned and walked away, Lucius smiled. It might have taken a long time, but his son was at last ready to take his place as a Malfoy.