The knocking came again, making Lucius purse his lips with irritation.
"Go away!" he ordered, imperiously.
"I beg your pardon?!" bellowed a horribly familiar voice. Lucius emitted what can only be described as a squeak of terror. "Lucius Malfoy!" the visitor continued. "This is your father speaking, and Headmaster Dumbledore is with me. You will open this door at once!"
Lucius glanced wildly around him, registering his own tearstained face, Snape out-of-bounds and in a stolen cloak, the unsuitable cat, the wrecked room, the ciggie in his hand and all the other sights which Icarus Malfoy really didn't need to see. He squeaked again and stared wildly at Severus, who had folded his arms in resignation.
"Help!" croaked Lucius.
Snape shook his head. "We're fucked," he decreed with a grimace.
…….
A few heartstopping seconds later the knocking resumed, but this time it was softer, almost tentative.
"Master Malfoy?" Dumbledore sounded concerned. "Are you quite all right in there, my boy?"
It was the Headmaster's interference which saved them. Icarus Malfoy on the warpath was such a fearsome phenomenon that they had frozen like scantily-clad maidens in the thrall of a vampire, knowing it would be useless to try and squirm their way out of the merry hell he was about to unleash. An avuncular Dumbledore, however, was a fair foe for any intelligent Slytherin to try and hoodwink.
At the sound of the jovial old voice, Lucius and Severus sprang into action as though a binding spell had suddenly been lifted.
Severus got rid of the cardboard, scooped up the cat and dived into the wardrobe, stumbling over a few pairs of boots as he did so, but managed to close the door behind him.
Lucius stubbed out his cigarette and cast a lightening-quick freshening charm. He vanished the spilled water and broken glass and spun around casting a general 'Reparo' on the ripped wallpaper, then remembered the spell his mother had always used for creating the illusion of a clear complexion to get rid of the tearstains on his face.
He glanced around the room. It was not perfect, but it would pass and there was no more time to spare. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"My apologies, Headmaster, Father," he gave a small bow. "Please come in. I beg you to excuse the disarray, I was not expecting visitors."
"Not at all, Master Malfoy," beamed Dumbledore, stepping over the threshold. "It is highly irregular of me to bring a parent into the dormitory area, I admit, but we have received such good news that I thought an exception to the rule was in order! Can you guess what has happened?"
The old man was practically beaming. Icarus' face had its habitual stately and respectable cast but his son was only conscious of the predatory glint in the steel-grey eyes as they bored into him, probing and grasping for some sign of weakness.
"No, Sir, I cannot," lied Lucius, mildly.
"My manuscript has been recovered," Icarus' mouth said. His eyes, on the other hand, said 'You're up to something, boy, and it's only a matter of time before I find out what and have you horsewhipped for it!'
"Wonderful news, indeed!" smiled Lucius.
"It was handed to Imelda Borgin just half an hour ago, who recognised it immediately and gave it to a nearby auror," Dumbledore informed him, so obviously editing out the more interesting parts of the tale that the young man had to struggle not to laugh. To find an auror anywhere near Borgin & Burke's was indicative of some much greater struggle of Light versus Dark than a simple hunt for a missing book; likewise for any of the shady Knockturn Alley shopkeepers to willingly co operate with the Ministry hinted at covert deals being cut on the sly. Then the Headmaster frowned. "Oh dear, were you lying down, Master Malfoy? Are you unwell?" He followed Dumbledore's eyes to the bed, which was rather rumpled after the recent emotional turbulence between the two boys.
"Oh, no, Sir, I...er," he began, then stopped on seeing his father's lip curve upwards in an evil smirk as he gazed intently in the direction of the wardrobe.
Lucius turned. Started. Stared. Managed to prevent himself gaping. On the floor by the wardrobe doors was a Quidditch boot, which Severus must have knocked out as he clambered inside. Just next to it was a small black and red cloth object, which Lucius knew with horrifying certainty to be the bra he had pocketed after landing in the laundry chute all that time ago, the night of the explosion when that blasted manuscript had first gone missing. The bra with Bellatrix Black's nametape sewn into it.
With some effort, he managed to remain calm and not begin to imagine the outcry if underwear belonging to his future sister-in-law was found in his bedroom. Quite aside from the trouble from his father, the Headmaster, the Lestranges, Narcissa and most of the Black family; Bellatrix would hex his balls off for theft and defamation.
One of Icarus' white eyebrows rose suggestively, but Lucius stood his ground. Only real Malfoy ingenuity could save the day now. Fortunately, Lucius possessed plenty of that. The 'Divide and conquer' rule had worked a treat on those Gryffindor oafs, so why not on the current threat? Knowing that the best way to pull off a lie was by sticking as closely as possible to the truth, the Head Boy decided on a plan.
He shot a plaintive look at his father, nodding towards Dumbledore, then the bra, then the wardrobe. Icarus froze. Lucius repeated the action, trying to convey in his face the almost-truth of his unfortunate predicament in much the same way that Icarus had projected his suspicions earlier. He thought hard, focussing on the words as with a non-verbal spell: 'Help me, Father. There's a girl hiding in the wardrobe and I'll be expelled if Dumbledore finds out, bringing shame on the family name.' Both of Malfoy Senior's brows rose almost to his hairline as he understood. Taking a leaf out of Black and Potter's book, Lucius gave a barely perceptible boys-will-be-boys shrug, knowing that according to the unwritten codes of behaviour laid down for young pureblooded wizards, giving in to one's baser urges at the age of eighteen was not a disowning offence. As long as said urges centred on females and one was not caught doing it by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, that is. Which was why Lucius needed both adults OUT of his room before unpleasant revelations took place. He shot out another pleading look for good measure, letting his father feel in control of the situation.
Icarus gave a tiny nod and Lucius felt the power in the room shift, as both Slytherins allied in family solidarity against the Gryffindor enemy.
Dumbledore was muttering about his dear boy looking rather pale, apparently as oblivious to the lifesaving exchange which had just taken place between father and son as to the lacy underwear lying so helpfully on the floor. Icarus strode forward and placed the palm of his hand on Lucius' forehead.
"You do seem rather hot and bothered, Lucius," he smirked, believing that he was torturing his amorous son. Which of course, he was, just in a rather different way from the one he imagined. Squirming, the teenager pulled away from the contact, as though embarrassed.
"Father, I'm fine," he protested. "NEWTs are coming up soon, I've just been studying…"
"Ah, yes," glittered Icarus. "I'll bet you've been studying…," he pronounced the euphemism emphatically, "…terribly hard."
"Lucius is a good pupil," Dumbledore joined in cheerfully. "He's always at it."
The Malfoys stared, wondering for an agonising moment whether they had seriously underestimated the old man.
"Yes indeed," he continued, twinkly and bright, innocent as a baby, "Day and night, it's all he ever thinks about, slogging away as though his life depended on it!"
Lucius began to feel slightly unwell for real, until Daddy came to the rescue once again.
"How commendable," he said. "But I should like to take my son up to the infirmary, just to be on the safe side. If he is under the weather I should like him to be cured well before the start of the exams. Shall we?" He grasped Lucius' arm and held the door for Dumbledore, practically shooing him out of the room.
"No, no, my dear Icarus, after you," he protested.
"No, Albus, after you," it was an order, but the Headmaster missed that, too.
"I couldn't possibly, old chap," he smiled. "You are a guest here! After you."
"I won't have that, it's your school, after you!"
"No…"
There was a shrill sound from the wardrobe which Lucius recognised as a strangled miaow and quickly tried to cover with a groan.
"What was tha…?" Dumbledore began, turning back to the bedroom. Lucius half-closed his eyes and stumbled against him.
"Ooh, excuse me, Sir, I feel rather peculiar," he whimpered.
"To the hospital wing!" cried Icarus, seizing Lucius around the waist with one arm, Dumbledore with the other and striding off down the corridor.
…….
Madam Pomfrey didn't believe him for one second. It seemed that now and then, a lust-fuelled boy would still risk the wrath of Professors McGonagall and Wycan by feigning illness to be close to the lovely young mediwitch. Lucius had not really helped himself on this occasion by implying that he had better taste.
Only when she threatened to take his temperature somewhere other than his mouth did he finally admit defeat and leave, grateful at least that his father and Dumbledore had waited outside for him, rather than coming in to observe. As he made his way to the waiting area, his gratitude tripled when he saw that his father had managed to lose the Headmaster too. Things were finally beginning to calm down.
"Father," he said.
"Lucius," Icarus stood and fixed him with another probing stare. Glancing around for eavesdroppers, he lowered his voice. "Are you going to tell me the name of your new friend?"
"Friend?" asked Lucius in genuine puzzlement.
"Your closet companion," he deadpanned.
Exactly on cue, the infirmary door swung open and Severus stalked in, his cloak and uniform in tatters, face and hands an oozing mess of criss-crossing red clawmarks and with a very unpleasant swollen bite mark on the end of his hooked nose.
"Oh!" Lucius clapped a hand to his mouth.
"Merlin's teeth!" hissed Icarus.
"You again?!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, appearing out of nowhere, probably thanks to some warding-alert system on the door. She peeled off the cloak and began to fuss at him. He scowled and complained but did not try to look at Lucius. It took all of Lucius' strength to turn around and leave him there, alone and in such pain, but remained conscious of his father's suspicious nature. Snape must have been shredded by the demon cat while trying to keep the affair secret – it would do no good to waste the sacrifice by behaving sentimentally and blowing their cover now.
On his way out, he noticed the name inside the ruined blue cloak, lying discarded on the floor and fit only for the rubbish bin. He was still upset that Severus had been injured – again – but he felt a small measure of comfort when he read: J.J. Potter. The brat had managed to get one over on his enemies even while being attacked by a ferocious creature. Once again he found himself admiring such skilful sneakery. Had Lucius been alone, he would have acquired the cloak for future nefarious purposes. As things stood, he was not yet out of danger.
The Malfoys walked out into the corridor and Icarus refused to let the matter drop.
"Well?" he demanded.
"Sir?" replied Lucius.
"The girl! Who is she?" He sounded irritated, so Lucius stayed on his guard.
"A wise wizard once said that a gentleman never tells," he quoted, with a small twitch of the lips. Icarus, recognising his own advice back when his son had first hit puberty, gave a snort and finally admitted defeat.
"Very well. I assume you were careful?" his tone suggested that Lucius bloody well should have been.
"I'm always careful," said Lucius, wishing it were true. Associating with a boy like Snape, he was learning fast about the need to be very careful indeed.
Icarus grunted.
In honour of the rare book's safe return, Dumbledore had suggested that Mr Malfoy take his son for afternoon tea in Hogsmeade. Lucius was glad of the fresh air as they took the brisk walk down to Madam Puddifoot's. The adrenaline which had just saved their bacon had now vanished completely, and the young man felt so exhausted after his recent exertions that he did a very unwise thing. He failed to pay sufficient attention to what his father was saying. Puddifoot brought out cucumber sandwiches, scones, jam and a rather vulgar pink teapot and Lucius helped himself, making vaugely interested sounds here and there as the tone of Icarus' narrative seemed to demand some input.
He hoped Severus was all right. The scratches would heal, of course, but he had been heartbroken about the upcoming change in their relationship. Despite Snape's protests that once out of school he would have better things to think about than a scruffy mixed-race swot, he still refused to entertain the idea that this was The End. He was infatuated with the boy, pure and simple. Surely no one he would meet in the adult wizarding world could be such a fascinating bundle of contradictions. Ugly but beautiful. A genius but rather backward about some things. Savage but tender. Lucius felt the familiar glow creeping from his stomach up to his chest and face as he silently listed all the brat's personality traits, so enjoying his love for Severus that he failed to notice the scowl forming on his father's face.
Icarus continued speaking in the same monotone.
"…which will take place at around this time next year, all being well, but that won't happen in the usual way because you'll be married by then." He stopped and cocked his head on one side.
Lucius said: "Mm-hm," and bit into his scone, re-living the sight of Severus sitting on his bed, looking tasty and ready for ravishing and…and…
He choked.
"Married?!"
"Aha," beamed Icarus, "So you're not completely befuddled, then?"
Coughing, Lucius set down the rest of the jammy scone and dabbed at his face and hands with a napkin.
"I'm sorry, Father," he said quietly. "I was telling the truth about being worried about NEWTs. I was just thinking about my Potions practical."
"Hogwash," scoffed Icarus, managing to convey scorn through the innocuous act of adding milk to his tea. Lucius subconsciously made a note to learn how to do that. "You have the nerve to lie to me, sitting there, blushing like love-sick little girl! Potions, my foot! You're just off kilter because you're suffering from coitus interruptus!"
"You are wrong, Father," he drew himself up, girded with the knowledge that he was no longer a child in the eyes of the law, would soon cease to be a schoolboy and was heartily sick of having been oppressed and harangued by the man sitting opposite him for his entire life. The fact that he was lying made no difference whatsoever. He gave Icarus a cold stare, right into the eyes. "I have been studying."
"I don't understand where this bizarre bourgeois obsession with examination results has come from. It's nothing you've learned from me!" There was a degree of consternation in his voice, which made Lucius proud. He had finally managed to break his father's stride! Encouraged, he continued.
"Because all I really need to succeed in this life is the Malfoy name?" he asked haughtily. Icarus put down his cup a little too suddenly and slopped a small amount of tea into the saucer.
"Yes," he hissed, with dangerous irritation. "It was enough for me."
"My apologies, Father, but I regret that is not enough for me," said Lucius calmly, inwardly rejoicing that after all this time, he finally had the old man on the defensive. He improvised coolly. "I will go out into the world with everyone knowing that I am better bred, wealthier and more handsome than just about every other wizard in this country. The world and I know that these are gifts I received due to a lucky accident of birth. When the half-bloods and the self-made people scoff at my good fortune, I will show them the things I have achieved for myself. A full set of 'O' grade NEWTs, legal and proven in a sneak-proof environment is not something which can be bequeathed by one's rich aunts. I will demonstrate my superiority on every playing field." This announcement flowed so smoothly that Lucius wondered if he had been subconsciously believing it for some years. He was very pleased with the way he had expressed himself, allowing a little preen at having successfully argued with his father for the very first time.
The older man stared into the distance as he digested this, then turned back with a sad half-smile.
"I am mortified that you care what your inferiors think of you," he said.
Luicus took another bite of his scone, cursing silently. Would he never get the last word in an altercation with Icarus Malfoy?
"What were you saying about my marriage, Sir?" he asked glumly.
Having learned his lesson about daydreaming, Lucius hung on every word this time and was subsequently very glad he had. It was a story worth listening to.
It was not yet public knowledge (naturally, Malfoys have their sources) that the eldest of Cygnus Black's daughters had just eloped with a muggle. Lucius had to admit to being not as surprised as he could have been – while Bellatrix was the artful sister and Narcissa the beautiful one, Andromeda had always been unconventional in her tastes, her friendships and even her dress. Icarus appeared to be scandalised and delighted in equal measure.
"Cygnus and Druella only have themselves to blame. What were they thinking, allowing an impressionable young slip of a girl to meet muggles anyhow? Your mother hadn't seen a live one until long after you were born. Made her feel quite ill, she said, not a sight at all suitable for a lady!"
Capitalising on the Blacks' disgrace, Icarus would wait until he heard the news from an official source, then publicly dissolve the long-standing betrothal between Lucius and Narcissa, while Henry Lestrange ended the proposed union between Rodolphus and Bellatrix.
"Which will be a perfectly understandable response to this tasteless development, for who in their right mind would associate with such a family?!" he rubbed his hands together and outlined his cunning plan.
In public, Icarus would appear to be so revolted by the taint to the Blacks' pure blood, that he would soon have them ostracised from society. The other branch of the family, Orion and Walburga, were already halfway there since producing that utter disgrace to wizardkind, Sirius Black. With a little political manoeuvring from himself and Lestrange, the younger Black sisters would soon become unmarriagable, too steeped in Andromeda's shame to attract the kind of man for whom they had been bred. Panicking and desperate, Cygnus would begin to offer all manner of bribes and dowries as inducements to marry Bellatrix and Narcissa – respectability being much more valuable than gold in his world. Icarus and Lestrange would wait until the amount was large enough to ruin Cygnus, then magnanimously relent and allow their sons to marrying the sisters, ending their social exile but effectively beggaring Cygnus in the process.
"What a cruel plan!" exclaimed Lucius, torn between horror and admiration.
"Nothing about this was planned, son. We are merely capitalising on a fortuitous circumstance," cackled Icarus. "You get to marry the blonde one as expected, but now with a dowry fit for a prince. Meanwhile I get the joy of kicking Black in the teeth."
"I'm not sure I want a pauper for a father-in-law," Lucius mused.
"I'll not leave him out on the street," Icarus reasoned. "They can keep the house and enough to live moderately on. And his brother will help out where necessary, though Orion will need a fair bit to leave to his boys. Serves Cygnus right."
"What for?" asked the future bridegroom, deciding to hatch his own plot to get Sirius completely disinherited and disowned forever. "I mean, you've never liked Cygnus, but…"
"We were at school together," said Icarus, pursing his lips in a way which suggested the end of the conversation.
Lucius filed the information away for later. Perhaps the Bloody Baron might have some more of his fascinating facts to shed some light on the matter.
"So I am to wed Narcissa as soon as Cygnus coughs up the right amount?" he sighed. He had nothing against the girl, it was just that Severus was going to have an absolute fit when he found out, and it didn't look as though the blasted cat was going to provide much friendly support. The poor boy was having a rough time of it lately.
"Yes, as quickly as possible, to joyfully cement the Blacks' return to respectability, if not financial comfort. We don't want them to be pariahs forever, not with them so closely linked to us. I anticipate the whole affair taking about six months. The girl will leave school. No use in staying at Hogwarts and having her pretty little head muddled by all that education. It makes them argumentative, you know, not what a man needs in a wife."
And that appeared to be that. Lucius had been fast-tracked into his future by Andromeda Black's irresponsible actions, and judging by the determined set of his father's jaw, protesting against his lot would do no good.
And Severus… Lucius swallowed and ground his teeth together. He would not lose Severus over this new scheme. He would uphold the Malfoy name by honouring the expedient teenage marriage and being a respectful husband to Narcissa, but he would be damned before he gave up the brat. If anyone had the nerve to contradict him – well, they would learn exactly how like a Malfoy Lucius could behave.
Icarus was now standing at the counter, effortlessly charming Madam Puddifoot as he paid the bill and slid coins into the tips box, garish and pink as the rest of the décor.
"Needless to say, you're not to breathe a word of this discussion to anyone," he instructed as they left the teashop and crossed the village.
"Naturally," sighed Lucius.
"You must be seen to give the appropriate reactions, when the time comes."
"Certainly," he agreed.
"And you must be wary of your interactions with Narcissa until the news breaks. The Blacks must not suspect that we already know."
"Indeed."
"Oh, and Lucius?" Icarus stopped and smiled at his son.
"Yes, Father?" he returned the smile.
"If you ever steal anything from my study again, I will give you first-hand experience of the effects of the most potent poisons listed in that blasted book," he was still smiling amicably.
Lucius forced his lips to keep smiling, wondering for a second if his face was going to crack as his pulse hammered like a tom-tom through his ears, trying to force his eyeballs out of his head.
"Do you understand me, boy?" his father asked in a jolly voice, but there was blue murder in his eyes. Still grinning like a skull, Lucius nodded enthusiastically, recovering enough to begin silently plotting some serious revenge on the young blackmailer for putting him through this. That kid was going to suffer more than anyone had suffered in the history of human suffering for trying to get one over on Luicus Malfoy. That kid was about to learn what happened when one played with fire. That kid was going to burn. He kept smiling.
"Good boy," said Icarus, patting him on the head.
……..
So, the long-awaited Day of Vengeance is almost upon whichever marauder was responsible (I know most of you have already guessed, it wasn't that hard), and Lucius cannot escape his gymslip wedding to Narcissa, nor the wrath of young Snape when he finds out, despite any promises to cross his fingers when reciting the 'forsaking all other' vow.
Thanks for reading again! That was a decent interval for an update, for once. Thank you for all your suggestions regarding the name of the cat – I am still interested in any apt, daft or original names before making the decision!
Reminder: this fic was begun back in the days before we knew the name Abraxas, so in the interests of continuity I have kept Lucius' father as Icarus. Ditto Snape's parentage, my OC Prof. Wycan Head of Slytherin and Potions Mistress, and all the other things which canon-shafted this story.
Note: I've been using the official Black Family Tree (see HP Lexicon, amongst other sources). I differ by writing Andromeda as the eldest of the sisters, though she seems to be the middle one on the tapestry, because I had my Bellatrix and Narcissa as being still at school and Andromeda having already left.
Thanks x