Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters, events, or places that were created by J.K. Rowling. The plot and original characters are mine, but they are simply part of a subplot based on her work. I do in no way profit from this story.

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The place that the blonde wizard apparated to looked like a wasteland. Once green grass had been turned into dark ashes that covered the ground. Instead of quaint tents in neat rows, the land now was dotted with charred stakes and tarps. Everything flammable had already been burnt to a crisp the day before, so the sky was clear of smoke. However, when the wind picked up, ashes would start to dance and twirled through the air. It was an eerie sight to behold, even for Lucius.

His piercing blue eyes searched the decimated campsite around the spot he had landed in. He tried to remember when he had last seen Ophiuchus the night of the riot, but it was of little use. The masks they had worn appeared identical in the night light, so it was almost impossible to distinguish one man from the next. He had no idea who exactly had been at his side at any exact time that night. With so little to go off, Lucius begrudgingly accepted that he would have to search for the body.

The first idea that came to his mind was simple enough. The wizard unsheathed his wand and pointed it out in front of him.

"Accio Ophiuchus's wand!"

Suddenly, a thirteen-inch long piece of birch came flying through the air towards Lucius, hitting him square in the back. Immediately the man whirled around to look at the wand which had assaulted him. It lay on the ground by his feet, now completely immobile. He bent over, picked the wand up, and then lifted it closer to his face for inspection. There were serpents carved into the wood that ran the length of the wand. The blunt handle end boasted a series of raised dots that depicted the stars of the constellation which Ophiuchus was named after. Yes, this was most definitely his wand.

Lucius let out a heavy sigh as he stowed the wand in the inner pocket of his cloak. He was sure that Lydia would want to keep her father's wand, as it was common practice to keep wands of dead loved ones if they were not buried with their owners. Whatever she decided to do with it was her business, though. He had only summoned it so that he could have a clue as to where he should be looking.

Now that he had a better idea of where the body was, the wizard started walking without hesitation in the direction the wand had flown from.

Lucius was a perfectionist, and he liked to have things take place in an orderly, precise fashion. He had envisioned this trip, this noble endeavor, as a simple set of steps that could be completed easily. Yet already things were not going as planned. As he walked, the landscape hardly changed. Everything looked the same. Slumped piles of debris that were charred and black, the remains of tent posts barely holding each other up, and layers of ash were all that he saw. More than once in the first the minutes did Lucius suspect he had found the body, only to be disappointed when he discovered that the 'body' was what remained of some luggage that had been left behind in the chaos. It was unbearably frustrating for him to not be able to quickly complete his task.

But he would remain true to his word, he was sure of that. He had told Lydia he would find her father, and he wasn't going to leave this campsite until he did! Otherwise he would look like a fool. It was such a mundane task, finding a body in a field. If he came back empty handed that girl would think him incapable, a buffoon! And he was not about to let that happen. So, Lucius trudged on down the dirt paths, determined to find his fallen friend.

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Meanwhile back at the Manor, Lydia remained seated, staring at the spot Lucius had just disappeared from. Everything seemed so surreal. She had actually visited the Malfoy Manor and talked to Lucius without making a complete fool of herself! The witch was bursting with pride. It was quite an accomplishment for her to say more than a few words to anyone, but to actually have a conversation with someone as intimidating as Lucius Malfoy? That was completely unheard of.

Lydia let out a soft sigh of contentment as she leaned back in the chair. A smile spread across her face as she thought back to how she had spoken with Mr. Malfoy. She truly was in awe of her newly found communication skills. But as she continued to recall the conversation, her smile faded.

How could she be smiling at a time like this? She had just found out her father was killed, and now she was happily reflecting on the conversation that had revolved around this horrid news?

A wave of self-loathing and anger rushed through the young woman, prompting her to jump up from her seat. Immediately she began pacing the length of the room, her feet pounding harshly on the marble floor. What is wrong with you, Lydia? You come here to discuss your father's disappearance, and once you find out he is dead you cast your worries aside? And for what! To boast about talking to someone, a task normal people do every day. You're pathetic! What would mother say if she knew you cared so little?

Lydia stopped in her tracks, her fists clenched by her sides. I am not pathetic. I made a mistake. Mother would understand. And she would be proud of me for overcoming my fear. She nodded to affirm this belief. Yes. Her mother would have been proud. And so would her father, though his rejoicing would have been much more subdued. It wasn't the best thing to be thinking of her own accomplishments at such a time, but she knew from experience that dwelling too much on the matter would only make it worse.

Then again, many could say she hadn't dwelt on her father's death at all. That was untrue. She had spent a good ten minutes thinking about her father and the consequences his passing would case. And in the years since her mother died she had spent countless hours trying to gauge whether or not the man raising her was still her father. After his wife died Mr. Caxton never laughed again, he never hummed while reading the paper, and he never told stories again. He had become a shell, a living corpse who merely shared the appearance her father had. In truth, Lydia had been preparing for him to take his own life for quite some time. It was strange, and very morbid, but in a way she thought he was rather like a horse with a broken leg who would be killed to end its suffering. Ophiuchus had spent years in mourning over his wife, secretly weeping because the love of his life was no longer beside him. But now he didn't have to suffer any longer.

And so, Lydia was not all that moved by her father's death. If one knew everything she had witnessed they would not be surprised by the fact she preferred thinking of her own small, recent achievements that gave her some sort of hope. Talking to Lucius was the first step. Maybe next time she would be asking someone to go to lunch with her. The possibilities were endless!

The witch smiled to herself as those thoughts passed through her mind. She knew such ideas were wishful thinking on her part, but were goals come from if we didn't dream?

But instead of continuing her socializing fantasies, Lydia decided to revert to old habits and find a book to pass the time. She walked over to one of the large bookshelves and ran her fingers over the spines. Most of them were made of worn leather and were obviously old. That made her cautious, as she didn't want to be responsible for ripping the pages of a priceless antique. But that wasn't the only reason. Ophiuchus had kept books in his study as well, and he warned her that not all of them were 'friendly'. She knew what that meant. Filled with dark arts, perhaps even cursed. And there wasn't a doubt in her mind that Lucius had similar tomes on those shelves.

To keep herself safe, Lydia went with a familiar title. Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century. She pulled the heavy, and slightly dusty book, off the shelf and cradled it in her arms. The room was still rather dark, so instead of going back to the seat across from Lucius's desk, she plopped down on a dark leather couch that was positioned in front of the fire place.

She let out a soft sigh when she sat down and then opened the cover of the book. Her eyes locked with the words on the front page, and after that, she was gone.

Almost an hour went by before anything in the study was unsettled again. But despite the loud pop that his apparation caused, Lydia did not realize Lucius had returned. Instead, her eyes remained glued to the pages of the book in her lap.

When he caught sight of her sitting on the couch, engrossed in some book, a thin smirk pulled at the wizard's lips and he rolled his eyes. So Lydia was a bookworm, was she? That had to be the reason she was still unaware of his presence. Either that or she had found a book that had devious intentions. That thought suddenly made the situation less amusing, and the wizard decided he shouldn't waste any more time staring at the girl.

Lucius took a step forward and cleared his throat loudly. Upon hearing him, Lydia jumped off the couch and twisted her head back to see that the owner of the house had returned."Mr. Malfoy! I didn't realize you had come back." Immediately she stood up and closed the book.

"So I noticed..." Lucius drawled. He watched as Lydia became flustered. She was obviously embarrassed by her lack of perception, and that only brought about another smirk on Lucius's face. He did so enjoy when others felt inadequate around him, even if he secretly believed they were above the common cut.

He casually glanced at the book that she held in her arms and nodded in approval. "A good choice. I am glad you didn't let curiosity get the best of you. I wouldn't want the wrong sort of book to fall into your hands."

A somewhat awkward smile played on Lydia's lips as she glanced down at the book. "My father had books I wasn't allowed to touch. Some of the titles you have reminded me of them."

Lucius nodded in a curt fashion that confirmed Lydia's beliefs. She didn't think any less of Lucius for keeping such books on display, but obviously he didn't feel it was appropriate conversation for their circumstances. Suddenly the witch began to second guess what she had said to him about the other books. Had her words been rude? Too bold?

These worries almost started to consume her, making it difficult to focus on the man before her. So, she promptly shook her head and went to return the book to its place on the shelf. Stop worrying! She thought to herself. That only makes things worse.

Thankfully Lydia had little time to continue chastising herself, as Lucius's smooth voice cut through the air.

"I left his body at the graveyard where your mother is buried. I assumed you would want to see that has a decent burial. I can help you with the task, if you like." Lucius wasn't quite sure why he was offering to help bury the man, but he supposed it was because he felt it would be wrong to force the girl to bury her own father, alone. Besides, Lucius had been one of Ophiuchus's last friends. Attending his funeral, even if it only had one other guest and no coffin, would be the proper thing to do.

When she finally worked up the courage to turn around and face Mr. Malfoy, Lydia looked very overwhelmed by his words. She had been prepared to bury her father alone, and she was extremely thankful that Lucius was willing to go with her.

"That would be wonderful!" She exclaimed. "I mean... I know it is late, and you have already helped tremendously, but if you wouldn't mind coming with me, I would be very thankful."

Once again Lucius nodded. "Of course." He walked towards her and then held out his arm. "I will apparate us there; it will be faster than having you leave the grounds so you can apparate on your own."

Lydia could only nod in response to this. She knew that only certain people could apparate in and out of Malfoy Manor, so it made sense he take them. However, the idea of clinging to Lucius Malfoy's arm was enough to make her cheeks turn pink. Even so, she forced herself to keep a straight face as she wrapped her arm around the crook of his elbow. A part of her felt almost giddy then, for she was on the arm of one of the most handsome wizards in the world. She could feel the soft mink fur of his cloak beneath her fingers, smell the scent of firewhiskey and spices that lingered about him, and sense of the confidence and power that exuded from him. It was almost pure bliss. Unfortunately, the fear that she would make a complete fool of herself lingered in her mind, making it much more difficult to enjoy her proximity to Lucius.

Soon Lydia felt the familiar, uncomfortable tugging at her navel of apparation, and she clung tightly to his arm. Just as the feeling of suffocation overtook her, they landed back on solid ground. Immediately the witch took in a deep breath and leaned closer to Lucius.

She had not visited the graveyard for a long time, but it still looked as it had on the day they had laid her mother to rest. Albeit, her funeral had taken place during a sunny afternoon, not in the dark, wee hours of the morning. But aside from the dramatic change in visibility, it was the same solemn cemetery. Rows upon rows of tombstones, some featuring statues atop them, covered the vast grounds.

The late Mrs. Caxton's burial site was not grandiose enough to make it stick out, yet Lydia remembered exactly where it was and how to get there. She started to move forward, arm still wrapped around Lucius's own, but she was halted after only one step as Lucius did not move with her. The girl turned to look at him, a cloud of confusion cast over her eyes.

"I need to fetch the body." Lucius stated bluntly. Immediately the witch he spoke to recoiled, suddenly embarrassed that she had thought he would escort her on his arm. "Go to your mother's grave. I will meet you there shortly."

Lydia nodded and gingerly removed her arm from the crook of his elbow. She took a step away from him, and immediately she missed his presence. It was rather frightening to stand alone in a cemetery during the dead of night. The witch truly wanted to beg Lucius to let her come with him, but she was held back by her longing to impress him (and surely he wouldn't be impressed by her acting like a spineless coward!).

And so, the pair split without another word being shared. Lydia began the short trek to her mother's grave, and Lucius walked toward the entrance gate where he had left Ophiuchus's body.

As if by instinct, her feet carried her to the location where, soon, both of her parents would rest. She never looked up from her feet until she finally came across the tombstone that bore her mother's name. The marble slab still sparkled against the moonlight, even though it had been through years of rain and wind. The post-burial mound of earth had flattened completely, which made Lydia cringe inwardly. Had it really been that long since mother succumbed to the pox? It seemed as if only yesterday she had heard the news that broke her young heart. But the landscape alone was proof enough that it had indeed been many years since that day.

The witch stood in front of the tombstone, solemnly starting at the words that were engraved into its surface. She became oblivious to the world around her; to the wind that made her curls dance about her face, to the calls of the nocturnal animals that made the forest lively, and, eventually, to the sound of Lucius's shoes as he walked along the path.

Lucius noticed that Lydia was standing completely still and again wondered if she was deaf. Once again he cleared his throat to inform her of his presence. This snapped the girl from her trance, though she remained still. She sighed softly and continued to stare at her mother's name.

"If she had stayed with us, none of this would have ever happened. He would have been careful and stayed safe. He loved her too much to risk anything before she died. Once mother was gone nothing mattered to him." Lydia let the words roll off her tongue in an almost morbid fashion. Her expression did not change, though her eyes did tear up a bit. The witch took in a deep breath and shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind. Only then did she turn to face Lucius.

The blonde had his wand held outward, keeping the lifeless body of her father levitating a few feet from the ground. It took every ounce of Lydia's self-control to keep her tears at bay when she saw the body. Earlier she had not even come close to crying over the news of her father's death. But now that she saw the corpse hanging in the air like some grotesque marionette her emotions ran rampant. Even though she did not cry, the look of pure devastation on her face made her feelings clear to anyone who might look at her. Lucius said nothing to the girl, though, for everything he could think to say would surely make him seem even more detached and heartless than remaining silent would.

Lydia stared at the floating body of her father for only a few seconds before her heartbreak forced her to turn away. She cast her eyes towards the ground and stifled a cry of anguish. Her trembling hand went to her pocket and removed the wand that was hidden within. She mumbled something, and then moved to walk in a rectangular fashion. A bold orange light emitted from the ground where her wand was pointed, and soon a chunk of earth was being pulled into the air and put to the side. A gaping hole was left just beside her mother's own grave.

"You can drop him in, now." Lydia whispered.

He stared at the girl, feeling rather bewildered. She had shown hardly any emotion before, but moments ago she was on the verge of tears. Now she once again appeared indifferent to the situation. Of course, he knew it was an act. He had spent his entire life watching people mask their emotions. But the fact that a girl in her situation was able to almost completely hide her feelings was unsettling. Would he have been able to maintain such a façade when he was her age?

Lucius decided it would be best to put these thoughts aside for the time being, and so he pushed them to the recesses of his mind. He nodded to Lydia and then carefully directed the body of her father into the open grave. After that, everything went silent. For what seemed like eternity, neither of them moved or said a word. Even the creatures of the night seemed to observe the moment of silence.

Lydia stared at the lifeless form of her father that had been placed in the ground. She shivered. The sight was rather ghastly. He was, undoubtedly, her father. Yet seeing him look so hollow made her question whether or not they were burying the right man. It was unbearably difficult for her to see him lying there. The one thought that kept her from crying was that his suffering was now over.

"Good bye, father." She whispered into the still air.

With a heavy sigh, the witch pulled out her wand once more and flicked it at the dirt. A large chunk lifted up into the air before being moved above the open grave and falling in. Lydia continued to bury him in this fashion, and soon Lucius was doing the same. In only a few minutes the hole had disappeared, and in its place was a small mound of earth.

But even then, the witch stood in the same place, staring at the spot where, beneath six feet of dirt, her father's face was. Lucius noticed how her gaze had not moved and inwardly groaned. He couldn't very well just leave her there. Taking her home would be the gentlemanly thing to do. But it might prove difficult to pull her away from the graves of her parents. He would just have to turn on the Malfoy charm, which would surely convince her to go home before it got any later.

Lucius pointed his wand at the head of the grave and conjured a bouquet of white orchids. He then walked over to where Lydia stood and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Reunited with his wife at long last... I'm certain there is nowhere else he'd rather be." Lucius purred quietly.

Lydia simply nodded. Truth be told, his arm had knocked her from the thoughts that were whizzing through her mind, and his voice had made goose bumps rise to cover her arms and legs. Yet she kept herself together, most likely because of the morbidity of their location. Eventually she turned her head to look up at Lucius, her eyes still slightly pink due to her unshed tears.

"I suppose we should both be getting home." Her voice was almost unnaturally soft as she spoke to him. If he hadn't been so close, Lucius most likely would not have been able to hear her at all.

"Yes, I think that is a good idea. You are probably exhausted. I know how draining it can be to go through something like this." Lucius's soft voice lulled Lydia into a much more peaceful state of mind. She started to lean into him again and found his scent to be intoxicating. It allowed her to close her eyes and mentally distance herself from the reality of their situation.

"I'll take you home, alright? I want to make sure you arrive safely."

Lydia nodded and Lucius took that as his cue to apparate. In an instant they were being pulled through time and space. When they landed on Lydia's doorstep she found that the terrible sensation of apparation had knocked some sense back into her. So, once they landed and she was sure that she would not fall, the brunette took a step away from Lucius and smiled up at him awkwardly.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy. I don't know what I would have done without you. It really means so much to me, and I... Well, I hope one day I can somehow I will be able to repay you." Lydia stated, her eyes looking up at the blonde earnestly.

"It was my pleasure to be able to assist you, Ms. Caxton, even though the conditions were quite depressing." Lucius gently took her hand in his own gloved one and raised her hand to his hand to his lips. He placed but one delicate kiss on the back of her hand before letting her arm fall back to her side. "And if you have any other problems concerning your father, or his passing, do not hesitate to write me."

Lydia had practically melted when Lucius kissed her hand. Her eyes looked glazed as she continued to stare up at him in wonder. She was so lost in her dreamy admiration for him that his words barely registered in her mind. But when he was finished speaking she nodded anyway.

Lucius smirked. He knew exactly the sort of spell he had put the girl under. It was the same sort he had charmed dozens of girls with in his life. Knowing he still had the ability to make women swoon only strengthened his ego.

"Until next time, my dear." Lucius turned to walk away, but after his first step he seemed to remember something and turned back around. "If the Ministry happens to contact you asking about your father's death, do talk to me before you tell them anything."

Again, Lydia could only nod in response. But that was just fine with Lucius. It was much better that she wasn't asking questions that he didn't want to answer. With that, Lucius turned away again and apparated, leaving a very lonely and conflicted young woman behind.

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Author's Note: I know it took a long time for me to post this chapter. However, life got in the way a bit, and on top of that I had a hard time writing this chapter. I wanted to show a somewhat different side to the Lucius we always see while remaining true to the character. I hope I did that well enough. As always, any reviews are greatly appreciated!