Abraxas did not approve of Lucius' want to be a Death Eater.
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Abraxas Malfoy certainly approved of pure blood supremacy. He preached this through all of his Hogwarts years; otherwise known as the "I-wish-I-was-at-Durmstrang" years. His hatred for school and all his peers came from one Tom Riddle. Malfoy had the misfortune of being one year older than the boy, and being in the same year as many of his followers.
Riddle was some poor boy from an orphanage who happened to excel at magic. Not worth Malfoy's time and not worth anyone elses. He was wrong. Riddle began making "friends" from the beginning, ranting about Muggles and Mudbloods, blabbering on about wars and tyranny. All sorts of things Abraxas thought was ridiculous.
In the beginning, Abraxas was sure that all the proper pure bloods would scoff. He recruited Lestrange first. That did not surprise Abraxas. Although the family had produced many very intelligent children, they were well known to be heavily involved in incestuous relationships (Randalf Lestrange's parents were siblings) so insanity was prevalent.
So Abraxas brushed this off.
Then Rosier, Avery, Mulicber, Wilkes, Nott and Dolohov became chummy with him. This was when Abraxas knew something was not right. He watched at Selwyn, Crabbe, Goyle, the Blacks (both male and female) the Greengrass' and the Parkinsons all became close with him. The latter were never as close, but they chatted, and that was far too much for Malfoy. He was a fourth year when they began coaxing Eileen Prince to be their friend.
This did not surprise him. She was the black sheep in her family; none to pretty, antisocial, and a loner. She was bullied by the other girls, most noticeably Drulla and Walburga Black and Joanna Greengrass. Randalf Lestrange had started flirting with her, and then she was hanging off the shoulders of the group, sometimes talking to Riddle himself.
The were making a gang and Malfoy did not like it.
Riddle approached him frequently and asked for him to be his, Riddle's, friend. Said all sorts of things, most often "We pure bloods can dominate rightfully" and "You would be such a wonderful companion". Although it was uneloquent and beneath him, Abraxas simply sneered and swore, telling Riddle what he could do with his words.
These conversations always sparked Nott, who Riddle had to subdue. By his sixth year, Malfoy was done with being pressured.
He listened, though, to what they spoke of.
They were calling themselves the Knights of Walpurgis. They were planning to start a war. It would all happen in due time. They bullied the other students (usually ones like Pettigrew and Weasley, although Cattermole and Lockhart was also adored topics). They stayed away from the ones who were too smart to put up with them (Longbottom, McKinnon, Boot, Lupin, Potter, Rookwood, and Crouch, most popular). They worked together to improve their magic. They formed some bonds that were far closer than that of normal friends.
As the classes that spanned five years graduated, Riddle and Company stayed friends, and Abraxas got himself a respectful job in the Ministry. He frequented Borgin and Burkes and would laugh cruelly when he spotted Riddle.
He would never be involved in the nonsense Riddle vomited.
None of his family would be.
Abraxas had told Riddle both of these things many times.
Of course, his petulant and witty son, Lucius had to befriend all of the followers spawn and Rookwood, the first Slytherin in that family in 468 years. Lucius had been taught the pure blood values. He was also taught that being with Riddle and having his views was stupid.
The little brat, as Abraxas called his son, did not listen.
This was why he was seated at the head of the long dining table, sipping wine, and waiting for his son to come from Hogwarts so they could talk.
Abraxas swirled the wine in his glass and tapped his manicured nails on the polished wood, staring across the table, looking for a glimpse of his child through the arch.
Lucius had gotten the notice at breakfast. He had been spreading marmalade on toast when the eagle owl dropped a letter and swooped away. Lucius knew that Abraxas would have used a Howler, had they not been proper pure bloods.
He had smirked around the table, then peeled open the enevolpe and read, bored, telling it to the table in the drawling voice his father loathed.
"How did he find out?" Rosier, only a first year, had asked. He stuffed eggs in his face.
Snape, also a first year, sneered at his behavior.
Narcissa spoke her agreement.
"I may have spoken of it to Rodolphus and Rabastan when they visited last weekend." Lucius answered truthfully as the Lestrange brothers exchanged smirks.
"What ever shall you do?" Asked the new Delila Parkinson, who had formally been Greengrass. She and Lucius did not get along well, but even she knew and sympathized with Lucius. All knew his father was a stern jerk.
"Tell the truth," Lucius said. "Why lie?" He had then shared a glance with Severus. "It is not like he will be alive much longer." He shared a kind look with his fiancee. "I do not want Narcissa living with him."
"What are you planning?" Augustus asked, pausing his cigarette smoking.
Antonin frowned. "You tell the first year, but you do not tell your friends!"
Lucius smirked. "He is helping."
"He is a first year," Antonin argued dismissively. Augustus had ceased to care.
Lucius grinned mockingly. "He is better at potions then you."
Narcissa looked up from the letter she was writing Bellatrix and sneered, "A squirrel with a top hat is better at potions then him."
"What about a squirrel without a top hat?" Rodolphus had asked, genuinely curious.
"Also better."
The table snickered at Antonin. He fumed in his seat.
"I plan to kill him." Lucius said this confidently, and Snape looked at him for a moment before going back to glaring at his food.
"What does potions and first years have to do with it?" Rabastan asked, his French accent not failing to make Wilkes wince.
"As you all know, your Quidditch Caption and Prefect, Lucius Malfoy, is in NEWT level potions. Therefore, I am ace at potions. I like to invent things. So does Severus. We are both putting our brilliant minds together to make a potion that mimics the symptoms of Dragon Pox."
Augustus looked up and asked stupidly, "What about Quidditch?" He, Antonin, and Lucius were Chasers on the team.
Rabastan, a beater, snapped, "Nothing, imbecile!"
"Please ladies." Lucius had held up a hand.
There was no more time for conversation. The teachers had dismissed the students and it was time for class.
Abraxas, now impatient, yelled, "Lucius!"
A nearby house elf squeaked and apparated away.
"What-hut-hut?" Lucius whined as he walked into the dining, having only just floo'd home.
Abraxas slammed his glass on the table and stood, ridged and angry. "I told you to be home at six!" He glanced at a clock. "It is nine!" He made a fist and rested it against his side, breathing heavily.
Lucius was uncaring. "I had Quidditch practice. I am the captain, you know."
Abraxas snarled. "I can tell!" Lucius had put his school robes back on and the prefect and QC badge glinted defiantly on his chest. "I do not know why they ever awarded you those honors, you nasty little boy!"
Lucius' fingers twitched, but he kept his hands in his pockets. "What do you want? I've plans."
"Got an orgy to go to?" Abraxas asked shrilly.
Lucius knew this was a crack at Rodolphus. "No." Lucius looked at his father and raised an eyebrow, smiling cheekily. "But I do have homework."
"Sit down," Abraxas managed, pointing to the chair farthest from him.
Lucius took his seat and Abraxas did to, slowly, like Lucius was planning on killing him.
With that thought, Abraxas snorted. The boy would die without him.
Outside, the night was dark. A new moon covered the sky, and the blackness was empty of clouds. A short breeze blew the bushes, and squirrels ran around, trying to find something before going to hide. In the owlery, the three eagle owls were preparing themselves to go hunting, and upstairs, a kneazle was licking her fur and thinking about dinner.
In the dining room, the walls were a deep purple, the floor white marble, the table dark wood. Gold accented everything, and a large mirror allowed for Lucius to admire his complextion. Abraxas was thinking of how to start, because the little fiasco with his son had ruined all thoughts in his head.
"Listen to me, Lucius," Abraxas finally spoke.
Lucius glanced away from the mirror, boredom on his face. "Hpm?"
Abraxas' eyes narrowed. "Do not make stupid noises when I talk."
Lucius only blinked, one hand supporting his face.
"I know that you are interested in becoming a Death Eater." When Lucius' face did not change, Abraxas frowned and plowed on. "I went to school with those ones. They do not do any good. You will all die fighting or go to prison and the family names will perish. Have you thought of that? He claims to care so much for the pure bloods, but he does not encourage breeding and lets you all die, without a care. How does that make sense?"
"I really do not care what you have to say." Lucius answered. "The ones who die and go to prison are the ones who do not need a name to live." That was what Voldemort had told him.
"You believe that?" Abraxas sneered at his son. "It is bullshit."
When Lucius just looked at him like he was an idiot, Abraxas exploded. "Why do you care for these petty obsessions?"
"Pure blood supremacy is not petty." Lucius argued angrily.
"That way you lot go about it is!" Abraxas screamed. He had broken the wine glass and a house elf was moping up the wine. "You do not understand, you stupid little boy."
Lucius pursed his lips and shook his head, ready to forget the potions and just blow the man to bits.
"He will kill you all! I bet the Black line will be the first to go! Then the Lestrange, then Dolohov! Just watch while all good lines die. You will know who's smarter, who is better. Me!"
"You know nothing," Lucius said lowly, just managing to get it from between his teeth. "The lines will go on."
"I am an adult. I am your father! I know better." Abraxas had stood. He pushed his chair in and wrapped his fingers around the top, wanting to badly to beat his son.
"You are an idiot," Lucius muttered dangerously, standing also. He sneered and pulled his wand from his robes.
When Abraxas saw the face his son made, he whispered, "Do not sneer at me!" He was becoming dangerously angry now, and he was not above stinging hexes. Lucius knew that.
"I will become a Death Eater." Lucius said in a bored, drawling voice, putting his wand away. "I will continue the line." He smiled slightly. "I will become everything you are not."
"You will do no such thing!" Abraxas moved from behind his chair and at his son. Lucius stood and stared while Abraxas pushed him against the plush wall and swore. "While I breathe you will listen and worship my words." Lucius said nothing and did not move to push his father off him. "You will not become a Death Eater. I will kill you and produce a proper son."
"How will you do that?" Lucius spoke now, in a low, mocking voice. "Your wife has been dead for three years."
"I will find another."
Lucius choose then to shove his father away. Before Abraxas could make a move, Lucius pulled his wand out and pointed it at his father. "I will do what I want." He said lowly and pleasantly. "You nor anyone else will stop me."
Lucius then spun on his heal and left the room, his cloak sweeping behind him.
Three months later, Slytherin had played Ravenclaw and Lucius had won Slytherin the Quidditch Cup. With the help of Hellvanta Jugson, Lucius had managed to take away enough points from Gryffindor so Slytherin could win both competitions. It had been a good year. He had worked with a poor first year half-blood (and now Lucius considered himself open-minded) to develop a potion that would mimic the symptoms of dragon pox so well that they were both sure no Healer could tell the difference.
On June 17th, 1971, Lucius floo'd home and waltzed into the kitchen. He told a house elf (his fathers favorite) to pour this into his fathers drink, as it was a medicine from St. Mungos. The elf had listened.
Two weeks later, Abraxas was dead. He had spent his final hours in St. Mungos, with the Healers doing the best they could to cure him. They were not able to (as he was not truly sick) and Abraxas, as Lucius had said happily the next day in the Lestrange Chateau "bit the big one."
Abraxas Malfoy did not approve of the Death Eater nonsense.
Lucius Malfoy did approve of the Death Eater wisdom.
Abraxas died because of the Cause.
Many family names died because of the Cause.
Later, Lucius would say that he did not regret the murder of his father. The man had ruined his childhood and made him what he was, so he deserved his fate. However, Lucius would admit to wishing he had listened to his father and stayed away from the Death Eaters. He wished he could have told the Lestranges what would happen, that he could have done something. But he couldn't and didn't.
When the war was over, Lucius celebrated with the rest. He was saddened over Bellatrix's death (more for Narcissa then himself), but he went on. The Lestranges did also. The Malfoys, after being cleared themselves, lied for them to get them away from prison. So, when Lucius sat down and thought over the conversation he had with his father, he wished he had listened and stayed away, but gloated to himself over all the things his father had been wrong about.
Even if the world thought he had, Lucius really did not learn much throughout the wars. His only regret, truly, was that he did not kill his father sooner. Because if he had not been so adamant about him not becoming a Death Eater, Lucius never would have became one.