Title: Stand By You
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger.
Summary: Lucius and his relationship with Draco through the years, from infancy to parenthood as Draco matures.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 11 201 (Part I: 6 292, Part II: 4 909)
Spoilers: AU Post-Goblet of Fire.
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta, shagmedraco for everything.
Distribution: Link only please.
Written: 2011 – For the Second Round of luciusbigbang (at LiveJournal).
Stand By You (1/2)
Zero
Lucius missed Draco's birth. Not even the coming of the next heir to one of the oldest and most powerful pureblooded families was enough to warrant Lucius missing a raid according to the Dark Lord - not even though there had been nothing about this raid in particular to differentiate it from the many other raids Lucius had already joined that week, not to mention the many he'd done under the month leading up to the birth; a time when Narcissa had needed him the most.
While Lucius wouldn't have been in the room with his wife as she gave birth to the child, he'd wanted to be there for her; in case something went wrong and to kiss her after the fact and tell her how proud of her he was. He wanted to be there, to hold Draco when the boy opened his eyes for the first time, be the first person his son saw; even if the child was far too young to realise what or who he was seeing.
And, more than anything, Lucius wanted the first thing Draco heard to be that he was very much loved.
As it was, such sentiments and desires were not something Lucius wanted to be known by his associates, and because of that, Draco was several hours old the first time Lucius laid eyes on him.
The moon was high in the sky, providing the light that lead Lucius into the room where Draco slept, peacefully in the Malfoy crib next to the bed that housed a sound asleep Narcissa. His blond fluff of hair was bright in the light streaming in through the uncovered windows.
Lucius smiled down at the boy as his nose scrunched up, and with a careful touch he caressed his son's chubby cheek, a soft smile plying on his face as Draco turned into his hand with a small noise of contentment.
"I love you," Lucius whispered into the crib, reaching down.
A searing pain shot through his arm and he hissed, drawing back and away from his sleeping son as his mark burned. Cursing low, Lucius cast a glance at Narcissa before he touched Draco one last time; then, he turned and left the room behind.
When the Dark Lord called, you obeyed.
One
It was the night before Christmas and the house was dark and quiet. When Lucius stepped into their room, Narcissa sat in front of the lit fire, staring into the flames with a vacant expression and a cup of forgotten tea by her side.
"Love?" he asked gently, not wanting to scare her by his unexpected entrance. "What are you still doing up?"
Narcissa turned to him, her eyes red rimmed. "Shouldn't I be asking you what you are doing home so late?"
Lucius closed the bedroom door behind him and walked up to her, settling himself down on the couch beside her. She took his hand as he sat and he squeezed it tightly. "How's the boy?" he asked instead of answering her, knowing it'd been a rhetorical question.
"Draco is fine," Narcissa smiled sadly. "He made a real fuss about having to take a bath, but once he got into the water he didn't want to get out again; as usual."
Lucius smiled. "I'm sorry I missed it."
Narcissa made a non-committal sound before they lapsed into silence. But only for a moment. "How did it go?"
Lucius turned to her and sighed. "Not so good." He watched as Narcissa closed her eyes and turned her face away from his, her grip on his hand tightening at his words. "No amount of money is going to get her out, I'm sorry."
"Did you try to-" she started, her voice sad and broken.
"Yes," Lucius interrupted. "But he can't help us again, not when he's already under pressure because I am not in Azkaban too."
"I don't want to think about that; that you so easily might've been there, and I would've lost you too." She leaned her head against his shoulder, turning her face into his neck as tears slid down her cheeks.
Lucius wrapped his arms around her, shushing her gently. "But I wasn't there. I'm fine, I'm here."
"But you always weren't! If you'd been there that night- I don't want to think of it. And the way people have been after us. What happens if-" she broke down in sobs against him, unable to finish.
"Narcissa, please, stop worrying. I'm not going to end up in Azkaban."
"That's what Bella thought too, and look at what happened to her."
Lucius simply held her closer and tightly, not saying a word about how insane Bellatrix was, and how he hadn't been surprised at her incarceration. And although he had tried, for the sake of his wife, to get her out of Azkaban, the fact that his usual contacts couldn't - or wouldn't - help him out, the way they had when he'd been under pressure from the Ministry regarding his, thankfully, suspected Death Eater activity hadn't been a surprise to him at all.
Having already lost one of her beloved sisters, Narcissa simply didn't want to see it, or admit that Bellatrix deserved to be put away; to her, her being gone simply meant that she'd lost someone else she loved.
The crack of an Apparating house-elf sounded, and Narcissa discreetly wiped at her cheeks while Lucius studied the creature as it nervously entwined its hands, head bowed.
"Dobby is sorry, Master, but the young Master is crying and Hattie is not knowing what to do."
Lucius nodded and sent the elf away with a wave of a hand. As soon as the crack of its Disapparating sounded, Lucius turned to his wife, who was still trying to compose herself. "Do you want me to go?"
"No, no, I'll go." She stood. "He's probably crying after me anyway."
Lucius frowned as she walked out of their room; though her voice hadn't hinted at any discontent, the words she'd spoken and the way her voice had been devoid of any feeling made him suspect she might be more unhappy with him than she'd let on earlier; either due to his inability at getting Bellatrix out of prison, or due to his distance from the family. Though the former could not be helped, and the latter was a natural result of his following the Dark Lord's bidding and the consequences that brought with his involvement in the Ministry and their demands on him now, though she said she'd understood Lucius suspected she'd in fact grown much tired of it.
He stood and followed her into their son's nursery, located just across the hall from the Master Suite. The sight that greeted him warmed his heart, as much as it pained him to see his young son so upset; Narcissa sat in the rocking chair that'd belonged in her family for generations, cradling a sobbing Draco in her arms as she rocked back and forth, caressing his hair and back to calm him down.
Lucius couldn't hear the words she spoke, but the gentle hum that escaped her moving lips seemed to calm the boy, as his sobs soon turned into sniffles and then disappeared all-together.
The blond head of hair rested against his mother's shoulder, clutching his stuffed lion to his small chest with one hand, and his mother's dress with the other.
Lucius smiled and walked up to them quietly, placing a hand on the top of Draco's head to provide him with additional comfort. He was rewarded by a toothy grin as his son looked up, his smile wide at the sight of his father.
Two
The funeral had been as well attended as was expected for the death of a Malfoy Patriarch. Lucius had stood by the side of the grave, completely still and his face a blank mask to hide the truth of his feelings; that he had none but impatience for the long-winding service and disgust over what the poor weather did to his clothes. He felt nothing for his father and hadn't for a very long time.
Abraxas Malfoy had taken a traditional approach to childrearing; he'd left the raising of his only son to a governess and house-elves, and to Lucius' mother when she felt so inclined to grace her son with her presence. As a result, Lucius and Abraxas had not been close.
When he'd been younger, Lucius had always looked forward to coming back home for the holidays from Hogwarts, if only for the short dinner hour he and his parents enjoyed on Christmas Eve; before the guests arrived, before his parents left him behind to attend various grown-up parties he was not invited to, but when it was just Lucius and his parents and he had their full attention as he spoke of his success at school.
His father had never been proud though, always telling his son that he could do better, be better; often implying that as a Malfoy, Lucius fell short.
When Abraxas moved out of the Manor following his wife's death and left it to Lucius, with many warnings and suggestions on how to maintain the grand house as if Lucius did not already know, the damage to their relationship had been doomed to never be repaired. Lucius may have been willing before, but by the time Abraxas moved out, Lucius had moved on; he would only have tried longer still for his mother's sake, but with her gone, he saw no reason.
Within months, Lucius had married Narcissa and they'd set about starting their own family. With Abraxas living abroad with little desire to travel, they spoke very rarely.
It took Draco being born before Lucius finally felt as though he was free from the need of his father's approval.
And as he stood in the rain, watching his father's grave being filled by black-clothed men; a grave not containing his body but instead his ashes due to the Dragon Pox that'd killed him, Lucius vowed that he would never make his children feel as though they weren't good enough, that they hadn't tried their hardest.
He was not going to turn into his own father and expect far too much of his eldest son. For he did not want there to ever be a day when Draco stood above his grave and felt nothing.
Or, worse yet; relief.
Three
Draco screamed; his face was red, snot covering half his face and the other drenched in tears and sweat. His favourite stuffed animal had disappeared and instead of accepting a replacement, he'd taken to throwing a temper tantrum.
Lucius sighed, watching the boy as he screamed and cried, rolling on the floor despite his mother's attempts to calm him, not to mention the multitude of house-elves who were all willing to bend over backwards to give him anything he wanted.
It was not the first tantrum Draco had thrown, but it was the worst. Even after Draco finally calmed and eventually slept, completely spent from his crying, Lucius could hear his screaming ringing in his ears.
Narcissa crawled into bed beside him, shutting off her light right away instead of picking up a book as she often did before sleeping.
Lucius turned to her. "And how many children did you want to have again?" he asked teasingly. "I think you said five?"
She groaned. "It's only very rarely that he gets like this though. And I never said five; I believe I said at least two, and that you were the one who wanted a house full of children."
Lucius embraced her under the covers, allowing her to snuggle into his body.
"You've got me there. Good night, love."
She turned her head and kissed him. "Good night."
Four
"Father, look!"
Lucius glanced up from his paper, the frown marring his forehead from the news of their world disappearing as he watched his young son playing some feet away. Draco had found a frog, and since his mother and her sensibilities were currently not close by, he'd picked it up and was on his way towards Lucius to show it off.
As Draco came closer, his hands cupped around the small amphibian so it wouldn't escape, Lucius put his Daily Prophet down beside his cup of tea and gave him his full focus.
"What have you got there, son?" Lucius asked, helping Draco climb up into his lap. "Ohh," he sounded as was appropriate and expected as the boy opened his hands and showed the frog.
"I've named it Herbert," Draco said proudly, the gap from a prematurely missing front tooth courtesy of a fall from a tree making him lisp.
"Herbert?" Lucius asked, amused. "Where you get that name from?"
Draco shrugged a small shoulder.
"It just doesn't seem like a good name for a frog..."
Draco frowned as he studied the frog in his hands intently. "I know!" he suddenly cried. "Crocodile!"
Lucius laughed, but contained himself when Draco turned his gray eyes onto his father, hurt marring his features. "I'm sorry, son," Lucius said. "Crocodile is a good name for a frog, I agree."
Draco smiled happily. "His nickname could be Crocks," he said, nodding to himself. "Hello, Crock the Crocodile-Frog," he told the small creature in his hands.
"Be glad that it's not an actual Crocodile-frog," Lucius told him, kissing the top of Draco's blond head as he gazed down at the frog and spoke to it.
"I can't wait to show him to mother!"
Lucius smiled. "What say we keep this between the two of us, hmm? I'm afraid your mother doesn't quite like animals as much as you and I."
"Okay," Draco agreed.
Lucius smiled and hugged Draco closer, absolutely certain that whatever Draco agreed to, as soon as Narcissa stepped into their son's line of sight, the boy would want her to pet the frog. Lucius would enjoy watching the horrific look on her face and her attempts at squashing her reaction for Draco's sake, especially as he would be the one to comfort her afterwards.
Five
Lucius held Draco's hand as they walked up the stairs to the private box that was to be theirs for the game. He worried that the roar of the crowd would be too much for Draco to handle, but so far the boy seemed more fascinated with the sounds and sights. Lucius kept a close look on Draco though, wanting to be prepared in case he suddenly became overwhelmed and wanted to leave.
The Quidditch World Championship was held in Italy, and it was the first time Draco would see the game played.
They settled easily into their chairs; Lucius nodding and exchanging polite pleasantries with his acquaintances while Draco looked around, tugging on his father's hand to get closer to the edge.
The game started with a shower of colourful sparks. Draco was completely immersed in the game, but though Lucius enjoyed Quidditch and certainly listened to the announcer, his focus was on Draco.
At least until someone he knew very well sat down three chairs down.
Lucius' heart froze as their eyes met. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, moving the boy closer to him as if protect him from the Death Eater's presence.
"Father, I want to be a Beater," Draco said suddenly.
Lucius looked down. "What?"
"When I get old, I want to be a Beater."
Lucius thought of Narcissa's reaction, and almost smiled. "Anyone can hit a Bludger or two, but very few men are talented enough to be Seekers," he said in a haughty voice, wanting to discourage Draco from thoughts of becoming a Beater; Narcissa would never allow it.
"But they don't do anything," Draco complained.
Lucius laughed then. "They will."
"All right," Draco agreed half-heartedly, his focus already back on the game.
Lucius smiled down at him, until he remembered who was there. He looked up at the man; only to find him still studying Lucius and Draco. Lucius' eyes narrowed and the man looked away, a sneer playing on his face.
Draco became tired before the game was over, so Lucius picked him up and left, not even caring that he was missing the final moments of the game. Especially not when Draco, almost asleep against his shoulder, told him it'd been the best day ever.
Six
Draco sat on the grass, enjoying the sunlight as he played with a stray cat that'd wandered onto the property. Lucius smiled, pausing by the wicker table to lean his cane against it and remove his gloves. He'd had a long day at the Ministry, working various contacts and he was glad to be home, even if Narcissa had taken his reappearance at the Manor to leave for a weekend in Paris with Mrs. Parkinson.
On the table laid a box, courtesy of a house-elf who'd brought the package out when it'd arrived earlier in the day.
"Draco," Lucius called, picking up the elongated box.
Draco stood at his father's voice and ran over to him, throwing his arms around Lucius legs and hugging him tightly. "Hi, Father! Did you see my cat?" He turned around to point at where he'd petted the feline, only to frown. The cat had scurried off, probably scared away by Draco's sudden movements.
"It's all right, son, I saw it." Lucius patted Draco on the head, allowing his fingers to run through the strands of his newly cut hair; Narcissa had finally put her foot down and forced scissors on him. Draco smiled up at him, showing off his row of teeth.
"I have a present for you," Lucius said, holding the box over Draco's head. When Draco reached up to grab it, Lucius lifted it higher teasingly.
Draco frowned at him. "Dad," he said, crossing his arms.
Lucius lowered the box. "What?" he asked, faux innocent.
Draco jumped suddenly, catching his father by surprise as he caught the box. Too big for him, it tumbled to the ground by their feet and opened. A shining new broom fell out, rolling onto Lucius' shoes.
Draco stared, wide-eyed. Lucius bent down and picked the broom up, holding it out to his son.
"Won't you take it?" he asked after a moment, worried he might've read Draco wrong and the boy did not want to learn how to fly.
Draco reached out carefully, touching the broom. "It's pretty."
Lucius laughed. "I thought maybe you would want to learn."
Draco's eyes were wide, but not as wide as his smile as he looked up at his father. "Really?"
"Yeah, I thought this weekend might be a good time too, since your mother isn't here to fret."
"Yes, I want to fly right now!" Draco cried, grabbing the broom from Lucius hands. He made as if to jump onto it, but Lucius stopped him.
"Wait, wait, you have to learn properly, if you want your mother to allow you to fly in the future."
Lucius removed his cloak, took Draco's hand and led him out onto the grass. The broom dragged on the ground as Draco carried it. The stray cat ran across in front of them, and though Draco turned to look at it, his focus was on his impending broom ride and instead of running after the cat, he followed his father.
They stopped in the middle of the yard; Draco looking expectant.
Lucius had never flown with his own father, but had to wait until he went to Hogwarts to learn, to the humiliation of his eleven-year-old self. Despite Narcissa's worries about Draco's safety, Lucius wanted to share in the experience with his son.
"All right, the first thing you have to think about is to never let go of the broom."
Draco nodded along as Lucius explained, visibly eager to fly himself. Eventually, Lucius helped his son onto the broom and held onto it as Draco hovered at waist level. The evening grew darker as they played, Draco never far out of Lucius hands.
A house-elf came out to fetch them for supper, and only then did they venture back inside.
It was clear; Draco was completely hooked on flying.
Seven
Lucius left his study with Pierre Parkinson following. After a productive meeting, they decided to join their wives and children in the sitting room early; Lucius because he'd had a long day and was sick of Parkinson and Pierre because he did everything Lucius said.
Narcissa sat with Pierre's insipid wife, Violet in the sitting room, drinking tea and chatting politely when the men arrived. Draco and Pansy were nowhere to be seen, but it wasn't until after they'd had their tea and the cakes were brought out that they realised the children were missing from the room entirely.
A house-elf was sent to find them, and, having been educated in the importance of taking care of Draco before anyone or anything else, the boy was the first one to be found.
"I don't wanna go back!" he cried when the elf found him hiding under a piano, two rooms away.
Narcissa looked to Lucius with a pointed look, wanting to stay to distract Violet from hearing more of what sounded like a prelude to a Draco-tantrum.
Lucius stood and made his way to the room the elf had found Draco; it was hunkered down by the piano, peering in under it at Draco, trying to lure him out with a piece of cake. Lucius walked up to them and bent down also; he found his son with his arms crossed and a resolute expression on his face.
"Draco," Lucius said warningly.
"I don't wanna," Draco whined. "She keeps following me."
"Who? Pansy?" Lucius asked, amused.
"Yes," Draco sighed dramatically. "I don't like her."
"You're going to have to deal with a lot of people in your life you don't like, son; better get used to it now. Besides, you and she will be at Hogwarts together and you may change your mind in the future."
"I will not!" Draco stared at him, surprised. "Never!"
"You never know; you may want to marry her one day."
"Yes!"
Lucius almost hit his head on the edge of the piano as he twisted and stood; in the doorway stood Pansy with a big smile on her face.
"We're going to get married, Draco," she said, coming closer.
"No!" Draco cried from under the piano.
"Yes we are; your dad just said so," she told him, crawling in under the piano.
Lucius stared, amused at their antics; especially as Draco shot out from under the piano and raced out the room, Pansy hot on his heels calling his name, and the house-elf following behind them both.
Lucius shook his head and went back to the sitting room. "The children are playing," he told the other adults by way of explanation. "Let's not disturb them."
Eight
Narcissa stood by the window, gazing out into the dark expanse of their land, her reflection barely visible due to the dark of the room behind her. Lucius shut the door quietly, not wanting to disturb her silent reverie. He walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder before wrapping his arms around her.
She leaned her head back against his shoulder, wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks.
"Draco's down for the night," Lucius told her gently.
"Good, that's good," Narcissa replied, her voice wavering.
"We can't keep doing this," he said after a while, hugging her closer.
"I know," she breathed. "But..." she drew in a shaky breath. "We've both always wanted more than one child."
"Yes," he nodded against her hair, kissing the top of her head gently. "But we can't keep going through this; you can't keep going through this, emotionally or physically. We have Draco; he has to be enough."
More tears fell as they stood in silence together: after many years of trying, of many joyful moments followed by a great deal of sorrow, neither had been ready to let go of their dream of more children. Narcissa had wanted a daughter, and Lucius had not wanted his son to grow up an only child, as he had.
"He's going to get spoiled rotten, isn't he?" Narcissa asked after a moment, as if reading Lucius memories of how his parents had spoiled him.
"Yes, most likely," he answered with a laugh. "We can pretend though, if you want, that we're going to try not to spoil him. Too much."
Narcissa turned in his arms, and smiling, her cheeks still wet from tears, she reached up and kissed him.
Nine
It had been a long week away from home; he'd worked seemingly non-stop and because of new travel laws, Lucius had had to take a long way home. He was weary and tired, and he wanted nothing more than to shower and crawl into bed when he stepped into the marble hall of his home.
A house-elf gathered up his luggage and disappeared with it, and Lucius made his way towards the stairs, already imagining lying in bed sleeping.
His wife's laughter stopped him, and he turned towards the sound; it was coming from the kitchen. Frowning, Lucius changed course and soon found himself in the doorway to what used to be the kitchen; it was a complete mess, flour and cocoa powder everywhere, used bowls and dirty utensils lying about on every flat surface and in the middle of it all, Narcissa and Draco.
They too were covered in various ingredients, and Narcissa's hair had a streak of chocolate sauce running through it. She was even wearing an apron as she mixed something in a bowl.
"I wish I had a camera," Lucius said, smiling as he took in the unusual sight in front of him.
"Daddy!" Draco cried, hopping down from the chair and running over to Lucius. Not thinking about what he was covered in as he threw himself into Lucius' embrace. "Look at what we did!"
"I see, Draco. Looks like you and mommy were busy while I was away." He smiled, walking over to Narcissa to kiss her hello. "What are you making?"
"Cupcakes," Narcissa said. "I didn't think it would be so difficult."
"Looks like you need some help," Lucius said, putting Draco back down on the chair he used to reach the counter.
"What do you know about making cupcakes?" Narcissa asked amused.
"Well, I never told you this, but secretly I am a world class baker of cupcakes," Lucius joked.
Narcissa kissed him. "You'll need an apron."
"I will never live this down, will I?"
Narcissa simply smiled and went to fetch the apron, which she helped Lucius tie on; all of his weariness completely forgotten in the face of Narcissa's smile and by the sound of Draco's laugh.
Ten
Narcissa loved Paris in the spring, and they went often. Sometimes it was just Lucius and Narcissa, especially for shorter weekend trips, but with Draco going to Hogwarts in the fall, Narcissa took every opportunity to spend time with their son. Lucius wasn't complaining; he too wanted to spend as much time with Draco as he could, and as a result, they travelled extensively in the year before Draco would move to Scotland.
They had an apartment in the city, a gift from Lucius to Narcissa for their honeymoon, and though it was small by their own high standards, it was perfectly fitted for their needs while away. And though it was located in a regular, though old and fashionable, Muggle building, but they had their own private entry and as such they did not have to mingle with anyone they choose not to.
As often happened when Lucius was in Paris, he had to meet up with a contact, leaving Narcissa and Draco to their own devices for the day. Narcissa enjoyed visiting museums, and though Lucius wasn't sure he wanted Draco exposed to what the Muggles considered culture, there were wings within the Louvre which included art created by wizards of the past.
It wasn't until supper, when Draco told his father of all that he'd seen that day, that he realised that not only had Draco seen a lot of Muggle art, but he'd even spoken to some Muggle child who'd been visiting the Louvre with her parents; she too had come from England, and had overheard Narcissa and Draco speaking.
Draco was full of stories of the girl, who'd known so much about the art they viewed, despite her young age. Lucius had listened, horrified, and though he kept sending Narcissa reproaching looks across the table, she studiously ignored him as she ate her food.
"We will return home in the morning," Lucius announced suddenly, halting Draco's stream of words and stopping Narcissa's fork as they both looked up at him.
"But, Mother," Draco complained, turning to her.
"Eat your dinner, Draco," Narcissa merely replied.
Lucius ignored them both, and they finished supper in silence.
Eleven
Lucius glanced down at the list of books in his hand, making sure he'd gathered them all; some were titles he recognised, but in the years since he'd graduated from Hogwarts it seemed as if the list had diminished, but that was probably due to the fact that when he'd been younger, he'd looked at the list of books with the reminder that he would be the one to study them all and now he could be more objective.
He walked to the front of the shop with his pile of books trailing behind him to pay, slowing down his walk as he noticed a patron being rung up; he detested having to stand in lines, thinking it entirely beneath him. Instead, he pretended to be interested in a shelf of new releases, while he kept an eye on the front desk; once the customer had left and it was empty, he walked up to it.
A shadow fell over the glass as the teller rang up his books, and Lucius glanced up just in time to see Hagrid, the Hogwarts' gamekeeper walking past holding two large ice cream cones. Lucius sneered at the sight of him, only to frown when he noticed that the giant had stopped outside Madam Malkin's, where Draco was.
"Send them to my house," Lucius said to the shopkeeper, throwing enough Galleons to cover the cost of the books onto the desk as he stepped out of the store, suddenly worried for reasons he couldn't understand.
Hagrid stood with his back towards Lucius, and he paused as the door to Madam Malkin's opened and closed, the door bell jingling as a small, dark-haired boy stepped out.
"'Ere yeh 're Harry, I got yeh some ice cream."
Harry Potter. Lucius froze, his heart tripling in speed as he realised that the boy had just come out of the same shop Draco had been in, and Draco, not knowing any better, would surely have begun talking to him.
When the two moved off, Lucius getting himself a good look at the profile of the dark-haired boy and seeing through his fringe the strange shape on his forehead that could only be the scar, hurried into Madam Malkins'.
Draco was just finishing up getting fitted, and he smiled as he saw his father. "I need a new broom," he said as they exited the shop together and walked down the street towards Olivanders.
Lucius, distracted as he looked up and down the street to make sure they avoided running into Hagrid and Harry Potter, barely listened. "You can't take it to Hogwarts," he said, opening the door to the wand shop.
"But, Father, I want a new broom!"
"Draco," Lucius said warningly as he caught sight of Narcissa. "We're leaving," he told her, not even waiting for her to speak. "Right now."
She frowned, glancing down at Draco who stood next to his father, already sulking in his attempts at persuading his parents to abide to his will. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Lucius lied, glancing around before looking at his wife pointedly; she understood the silent message and together, they left the store, Draco trailing behind unhappily.
But Lucius was relieved, because Draco's behaviour showed that today at least, was not the day he'd found out the truth.
Twelve
Lucius didn't want to imagine Draco's reaction to the letter, asking him to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break. It was necessary however, as Narcissa was not in a right mind to celebrate, and neither was Lucius; despite having promised each other not to try for more children, they had become pregnant, only to lose the child a short time later.
It was not something Draco needed to know however, so Lucius had had to lie; Draco would be upset, and he was sure a tantrum would be coming in the form of snarky letters and ignoring of his parents, but as much as Lucius hated to disappoint his son, his wife needed him more right now.
And as much as she wanted to hug Draco to her, especially at a time like this, she was not ready to pretend everything was fine and like nothing had happened.
"Archimedes," Lucius called to the owl snacking by the window. The flapping of wings disturbed his hair as the magnificent bird sat down on his perch by the writing desk; he held out a leg to allow Lucius to attach the letter. "Take this to Draco."
Once the owl had left, Lucius scrubbed a hand over his tired face as he took a moment to himself to just breathe. It would be strange to have Christmas without Draco; Draco made their Christmases into what they were. Unlike Lucius' own parents, he and Narcissa spent the holidays with their son, and only accepted a very few select invitations; and never on the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth, choosing instead to be home with Draco.
An elf appeared at the door. "Master, the Mistress is wanting you in the sitting room."
Lucius nodded and the elf disappeared around the corner. With a sigh, Lucius stood and made his way to his wife.
Thirteen
Lucius knew Draco had exaggerated - he was a bit of a drama queen, that son of his - but the fact remained that a vicious creature had injured his only son. Only the quick thinking of agirl, whose inferior birth meant she shouldn't even have been allowed at Hogwarts if Lucius had had any say in it, had gotten Draco to the Hospital Wing in time to prevent any complications from arising - not to mention preventing his pain and suffering from being prolonged unnecessarily.
The creature had to die - and if not for Draco's sake, or for the added pleasure Lucius received from taking it away from the half-giant, then it had to be put down for Narcissa's sake. Despite being reassured that Draco was fine, from the boy himself and from Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, and despite the fact that the injuries he'd suffered hadn't been life threatening and had been quick and easy to heal, Narcissa had been distraught.
She worried about the boy excessively even when nothing happened, and to get an owl from the Headmaster saying that Draco needed medical attention due to an accident in Magical Creatures class had been enough to make her want to pull the boy out of school entirely.
For Lucius, it wasn't until he found out - months after the event, from Crabbe Sr. of all people - that Draco had been slapped across the face by the very same girl who'd essentially saved him, that he considered moving Draco to Durmstrang; a school where no such people would be found and he wouldn't have to worry about Draco coming into contact with Mudbloods on a daily basis.
The nerve of that girl; it wasn't enough that she was a Mudblood, or that she bested his son in every subject, but she'd actually laid a hand on him.
Lucius hated her.
Fourteen
They were having dinner when he felt it again; the burn. Lucius fell forward from the shock and the pain; he'd not felt it in so many years that he'd forgotten what it was like.
Narcissa stared at him as he clutched at his arm, and when their eyes met hers were filled with horror. They both knew what it meant; only Lord Voldemort could activate the burn.
"I have to go," he said, standing and moving towards the doors.
"No!" Narcissa stood. She followed him out into the entry hall.
"Dippy!" Lucius called, and when the elf arrived, he told him, his voice heavy but devoid of emotion, to get his Death Eater wear.
Narcissa grabbed him, standing in front of the marble fireplace. "Please don't go."
Lucius enveloped her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "I have to, you know that."
"No," Narcissa shook her head against his shoulder. "You don't have to go. Just stay here."
"But I do. It will be so much worse if I'm not there. If he's back-"
"But how can he be back?" she interrupted, her voice wavering as her eyes filled with tears.
"Narcissa, please." He kissed her then.
"I thought it was over," she said when he pulled away. "I thought we were free."
"Me too," Lucius whispered, just as Dippy returned with a crack. The elf said nothing as it held out his mask and cloak, but fear filled it's big round eyes.
"I'll come back as soon as I can," Lucius promised once he'd buttoned his cloak. He caressed her cheek gently, wiping away a tear that'd fallen. "I love you."
"I love you too," she said.
Lucius took his mask, steeled himself for whatever was about to come, turned on the spot and left.
Continued in Part Two