Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. Don't sue me.
CHAPTER 15 - THE BEGINNING OF THE END pt II
The head of the tribunal, an imposing, dignified judge who was notorious for
his anti-High Clan sentiments, began the proceedings by ordering the accused to
be given veritaserum. A healer from St. Mungo's sat in the front row, and
pulled out a vial of clear liquid, but hesitated when he looked back at Luc.
"Your honour," he said nervously to the judge, "You do
understand that those of Malfoy blood experience a severe allergic reaction to
veritaserum? Are you quite sure of this?"
Greyson scowled. "Allergic to veritaserum? That's absolute -" The
judge cut him off.
"Yes, I am aware of that, Dr Bennett, but as I understand it, the reaction
doesn't set in immediately, and even then the symptoms don't affect their
ability to think, or to speak."
The doctor opened his mouth again, encountered Greyson's glare, and thought
better of it. Yes, Luc would still be able to speak and think and reason, but the
dranath that was one of the main ingredients in the potion would have an
entirely different effect.
He held the potion out to Luc, who was watching him with amused silver eyes.
He, at least, knew what was going to happen...and he wasn't pleased at all,
although he was covering it well. Nevertheless, he drank the potion. What would
come would come.
"State your name for the courts, please." The judge looked down his
nose at Luc, as if he were a common criminal, as if he had no idea who he was.
Very well, then, he would play along. "Lucien Malfoy, son of Marcus
Malfoy." He didn't mention his mother - she had never acknowledged him.
Legally, he had no mother.
"And your current position?" As if anyone in this courtroom didn't
know it.
"I am the Lord of High Clan de Sauvigny, and the leader of the trading
House of de Sauvigny." He could feel the veritaserum already, breaking
down his control, enhancing the impulse to tell the truth; because the truth
was always easiest...lying took preparation.
"And how did you, er, become Lord of the de Sauvigny?" His tone was
skeptical, doubtful. It was downright insinuating.
"As a blood scion of the Clan, I was duly elected by the board, and by the
heads of the various families within the House."
"There were no other blood scions that they had to elect a child of the
Malfoy to be their leader?" There was a sneering insult on the word
Malfoy. He ignored it.
"All the others stood down in favour of me."
"And why do you suppose that is? Why did they not contest your election?"
"Perhaps they thought that it would be best for the whole Clan if I became
tai-pan." His voice was calm, expressionless, and utterly impassive.
"Perhaps they were afraid you'd kill them, too!" Interjected Benjamin
Greyson, infuriated by the calm, reasonable spell Luc had been spinning with
his words.
People began talking in the wake of that accusation, shouting, standing up and
shaking their fists...the judges banged their gavels down on the bench,
furiously calling for order. Luc sat impassive throughout it all, with no
indication as to how the words had effected him...or whether he had
deliberately provoked them, so as to get straight to the point and to cause
Greyson to lose his temper, thus lessening his credibility.
"Mr. Greyson, you will refrain from unsubstantiated accusations, or I will
have no choice but to bar you from these proceedings." Greyson looked
murderous, and the glance he sent Luc's way should have pulverized him. For the
first time, Luc wondered whether the hatred was for Death Eaters in general, or
himself in particular...perhaps he had seen the physical and magical
resemblance to Brandon? Or perhaps Kate still talked in her sleep...
The judge continued. "Nevertheless, Mr. Malfoy, I must ask you about the
deaths of Messieurs Aethan, Adam, James, Sean, Tarquin and Caine de Sauvigny. I
understand that these were the late tai-pan of the House, and the five most
likely to succeed him."
Luc nodded.
"They all died, I understand, within five years of each other?"
Luc inclined his head. "Yes, that is true."
"They all fell victim to accidents, to Death Eater attacks, and other
tragic events...it would have been a great blow to the House, to lose so many
young leaders so quickly." He raised an eyebrow, and Luc nodded again.
"But their deaths allowed you to move into a position that you would,
normally, never have been granted."
Luc didn't deny it. It was all too true - whether he murdered them or not, he
had definitely taken advantage of their deaths.
"All this has been gone over again and again, Mr. Malfoy, by the Aurors,
by the ministry officials, by other courts...and each time you were found to
have had no complicity in their deaths." The crowd stirred, they knew this
all too well. "However," he continued, "new evidence has come to
light, and on the basis of that, we have reopened our examination."
Luc said nothing. He could feel the dranath, now, coursing through his blood,
mixing with the remnants of what he had taken last night, relaxing the controls
he'd placed on his ardeur, enhancing all six of his senses until they were
almost hypersensitive. It was a sensation he had experienced many times before,
but never in a crowded room where letting his ardeur free would be unthinkable.
But he could feel his control slipping fractionally, feel his skin start to
take on a small, imperceptible glow, feel his eyes start to turn pure silver.
He sat patiently, concentrating on control, waiting for the judge to get to the
point.
"Mr. Malfoy, would you please tell us what you were doing on the nights
that your cousins, step-father and half brother died?" He listed the
dates.
Luc had prepared these alibis long ago, when he'd first been questioned, but
given enough warning by the note and enough time in his walk over to the
Ministry, he'd been able to prepare for the effect of veritaserum and have all
his answers at the front of his mind. He took his time answering, because too
quickly and it would seem false, but he gave the alibis he'd given before.
Hopefully he could counter any new evidence...
Greyson smiled triumphantly, and Luc swore inwardly.
"New evidence claims that you were, in fact, at Death Eater meetings on
those nights, Mr. Malfoy, and that you, and you alone, were responsible for
their accidents, for their murders, for their deaths."
Cool as ever, Luc raised an eyebrow. He'd been waiting for this. "Surely
that evidence could only have come from another Death Eater, Your Honour. Are
you sure that it's reliable?"
"This particular Death Eater has repented his ways, and has been vouched
for by the most trustworthy among us." Luc's reaction time, slowed down by
the veritaserum and the dranath, could not prevent the involuntary tensing as
he realized where the evidence had come from. "Headmaster Dumbledore holds
him in the highest trust."
Anger was the enemy - it would only feed the ardeur, only increase the
veritaserum's effect...breathe calmly, in and out, in and out, in and out...
"What do you say to that, Malfoy?" Greyson all but leered at him as
he could feel his triumph, his revenge approaching.
But Luc wasn't anywhere near defeat. And he would not go down - it didn't
matter if his accuser was Greyson, Snape or Dumbledore himself. He'd come too
far, shed too much blood, to see it all taken away from him now.
**********************************
Lucius Malfoy, extremely worried about the events in the hearing room,
especially what secrets were being revealed by the veritaserum, was moving as
quickly as he could to fetch help for the rescue.
The irony was not lost on him.
Always before, he had relied on no one but himself, or, long ago, on his
father, but now he - the Lord of Clan Malfoy - could not save Luc no matter how
powerful or wealthy he was. This called for someone else, someone older,
someone with a spotless, unbiased reputation.
Dumbledore was not available.
And that left the American ambassador, a relatively honest, honourable man, but
with a sound knowledge of politics and the Game, an understanding of British
wizarding society and the forces that drove it and kept it profitable. He was a
diplomat, a moderate, well-educated gentleman who understood that sometimes
distasteful things had to be done for the greater good of society. And more
importantly, he could bring Greyson to heel.
If Greyson brought the House down, it would put a fifteen year old,
inexperienced boy in the tai-pan's seat - it might have been enough twenty
years ago, before Luc got his hands on the House, but now it was larger and
more complicated than ever, spread over the entire world and integrated into
both Muggle and wizarding economies...no matter how hard Marc tried, he
wouldn't be able to hold on, and if the House fell, so did England's economy...
And Lucius had much of his investments tied up in the House, too - not all of
them, no, but a reasonable chunk of his money stood to be lost, but more
important was a great deal of face and Luc's credibility which, together with
Lucius' name, helped control the High Clan.
He had to admit; this plan of Voldemort's was diabolical - almost worthy of
himself. If he hadn't suspected that something of this sort was coming...
He rapped imperiously on the door to the ambassador's office, his glance
falling to the seven children who had trailed along in his wake. Only Merlin
knew what they thought they were doing here - what foolishness had possessed
them to follow Severus? They had put themselves and the balance in grave
danger...Potter and his two friends he could understand, they couldn't resist
poking into things better left alone, but what had happened to Draco and the
two de Sauvigny? They were intelligent and canny enough to know when not to
interfere. Or, rather, he thought they were.
Nevertheless, he had thought it better to take precautions, and to monitor the
one and only fireplace with access to Hogwarts just in case any curious
students decided to follow Severus. One ignored True Dreams at their peril -
and he had been dreaming almost every night, lately.
He remembered his father, in the days before he had been forced to kneel to
Voldemort, in the days before he had been murdered. He had had enough warning,
a strong enough premonition, to take the time to see them one last time before
the end.
That much grace, at least, was granted to him.
The door swung open, revealing the white haired, dignified ambassador, who was
now wearing an expression of wariness and suspicion. "Malfoy," he
said, questioning.
Lucius only inclined his head and stayed in the doorway, unwilling to sit down
and quite prepared to be discourteous for his brother's sake.
"Ambassador," he said curtly. "Do you know what your underling
is doing, right now?" And that was quite distressingly blunt, but Lucius
was in too much of a hurry to worry about playing games now. Luc, dranath and
provocation didn't mix at all.
The ambassador frowned. "Greyson?" Lucius inclined his head. "He
should be collaborating with Moody, going over the records to find information
about Death Eater methods." He blinked, and then looked at Lucius with
dawning suspicion.
Lucius smiled grimly. "At the moment, he is accusing the tai-pan of Death
Eater activities and of murdering his way to the top."
The ambassador looked stunned, and then floored by the implications, and then
rage swept over his face, turning it almost crimson. Lucius watched in
fascination as he whirled around and stalked back into his office, grabbed an
overcloak, and pushed past him, almost running down the corridor in his fury.
Closing the door gently, Lucius followed, his seven charges following in his
wake like obedient ducklings following their mother duck.
One last stop before he entered the hearing room, before he had to make the
final choice.
************************************
The Greyson family had quarters in the Ministry building itself, inside some of
the rooms reserved for visiting dignitaries. He knew this, because it was his
business to know such things, but he had never had occasion to use the
information. Certainly, he had never wanted to before this morning, when he had
been confronted by his very drunk, almost suicidal brother.
Kate was still alive.
She was married to Greyson, but she had borne a son, at twenty-one, to Luc,
whom she had not seen since she was seventeen...
He didn't want to think about how.
Rapping on her door, much more politely than he had on the ambassador's, he
came face to face with the woman that the girl he remembered had become. Dark,
unruly hair and green, green eyes - eyes like her sister's, like her nephew's -
and perfect, if not aristocratic features. A scar on her forehead, near her
hairline, where one of the Slytherin girls had tried to scalp her...
And the same impenetrable mask that he had taught her, that Luc had helped her
refine...calculation in her eyes and secrecy in her very blood. Yes, it was
Kate. He didn't know what to think, whether to be angry or to be overjoyed
about it.
A flash of wariness in her eyes when she recognized him (and how could she fail
to? He looked like a blonde version of what her son would be when he reached
maturity), a hint of calculation, a decision and a surprising ruthlessness that
shouldn't have surprised him. She had always been ruthless, and he supposed
that motherhood had only brought out the instinct even further.
She had definitely seen Brandon standing behind him, along with all the others.
"Lucius," was all she said, in her cool, calm, collected voice - it
was warm and rich, but the promise had always been reserved for only one man.
He wondered if Greyson had ever heard that promise in her voice.
"Kate," he returned, just as warily but in somewhat of a hurry. In
the end, as he had done with the ambassador, he got straight to the point.
"I need a favour."
An unthinkable request with most Slytherins - it would put him in their debt,
which would give them a very dangerous hold over him until he managed to repay
it. But she could be trusted - or at least she could have, twenty years ago. He
was gambling, with insane recklessness, on the fact that she hadn't changed.
He could feel Draco's shocked eyes in his back.
She only inclined her head. "What do you need?" He breathed out in a
silent sigh of relief.
He stepped back to reveal all seven of the children - three of whom she would
recognize, and the rest she could guess. "I need you to take care of these
children," he said quickly. "Don't let them out of your sight, and
don't, for the Gods' sakes, don't let them into the hearing room."
She blinked. "What hearing room?"
******************************************
Luc was hypersensitive by now, he could recognize the feeling. The dranath was
raging through his veins, causing his whole body to throb with uncontrollable
sexual arousal...it was taking all that he had to control his ardeur, to stop
it from taking the arousal and transmitting it all around, heightening the
lusts of the others around him and turning that lust into power, which in turn
fed his arousal in a never ending cycle.
He lived with that cycle every minute of every day, it was the curse of a
sexually mature Malfoy male, but that didn't mean he allowed it to operate at
anywhere near full power. The dranath sent it skyrocketing...
And the veritaserum was killing his control.
Nevertheless, he held on - denying, evading, outright lying where he had to and
where he could. He had spun his webs of lies for so long that even he half
believed them, and the rest of the world could no longer tell fact from
fiction. This information, anonymously given to Greyson no doubt at Voldemort's
order, could blow all of that open, but it had been so long ago that the
memories were very, very hazy, and he had come so far that some people
preferred their memories to be very, very hazy.
Not many wanted to betray their tai-pan, one of them whether they hated him or
loved him, to an American. They didn't care what he had done in the past, or
what he had done to become tai-pan, what mattered was now. And the truth was
that he had kept the House from going under, he'd been a respectable pillar of
the community for years, he made contributions to charity, and he had saved the
Hogwarts Express from the Death Eaters and was teaching there as well.
And if he were teaching there, then he'd have Dumbledore's approval, wouldn't
he? As long as he kept his cool, as long as he could control his temper, he
would get out of this. And after that, there was only the Death Eaters to take
care of.
Simple.
His calm, cool reasonable answers had begun to sway the crowd, if not the
tribunal. Benjamin Greyson's face and their natural distrust of any Death
Eaters, especially turn coat ones who provided evidence out of the goodness of
their hearts, had introduced the first sliver of doubt - and the full knowledge
of the risk they were taking, the implications of their actions, was starting
to sink in.
However, there was more than enough motivation to send him to Azkaban still, if
he made a misstep. There was no way they could pin five of the murders on him -
there was simply not enough evidence, even with what Snape had provided. But
the whole world knew that he had killed Caine de Sauvigny - the only problem
was proving it.
The questioning continued. "Could you describe your relationship with
Caine de Sauvigny, Mr. Malfoy?"
He sighed soundlessly. As if they, or indeed the whole world, didn't know.
Lying would serve no purpose. "My half-brother and I hated each other,
Your Honour. It was entirely mutual."
"Would you describe it as a competitive relationship?"
"Yes." No more, and no less. It was more than enough.
"You made no secret of the fact that you wanted to be tai-pan even at
Hogwarts. You set yourself up as a rival to your half brother even then."
Luc nodded.
"So the hatred was very long standing?"
"Yes."
"And Caine was the only real rival to your plans of becoming Clan
Lord."
"Yes." There was the motive - his ambition and his hatred - now all
Greyson needed was means and opportunity. If he could prove the Death Eater
accusations, he could prove both means and opportunity - and on top of that, it
was an automatic trip to Azkaban even if Caine's murder wasn't proved...
Unfortunately for Greyson, nowhere, not fifteen years ago and not now, had
anyone ever named Lucien Malfoy as a Death Eater. Not even the eyewitnesses,
the spies or the weak pawns who had rolled over on their companions to reduce
their sentences had pointed the finger at him even once. The only concrete
mention of his involvement as a Death Eater had come from an anonymous, Death
Eater source. They claimed he was backed by Dumbledore, that he was repentant -
but it was one man's word against a very powerful, very respected pillar of the
community.
And no one wanted to be the one to take the blame for a false conviction. The
momentum was slowing; the motivation was very quickly losing its pace. He could
see the judges exchanging wary looks, shifting nervously - they knew what would
happen if someone higher up found out what they were doing...
'This is ridiculous," hissed Greyson, the ringleader, the heart of this
court. "There's a foolproof way to find out whether he's a Death Eater or
not. Let's just look at his arm."
Luc gave him an incredulous look - did he, a mere four hundred year aristocrat
whose ancestors had fled England for the colonies with the authorities on their
heels, think to lay his hands on a son of the Malfoy? He...dared? The others
were just as stunned, but in their fear had turned ruthless, vicious - finish
it now, and have it done with before anyone found out what they were doing.
Hands came from behind him, pinning him to his seat, as the crowd murmured in
shock and wariness. He could feel the shock of the Death Eaters behind him -
this was completely unprecedented, in a public room in the very Ministry
building, in broad daylight? He hadn't even been arrested. Oh, he would sue
them for everything they had, when he got out of this - he would ruin their
careers, destroy their families, crush them and wipe all evidence of their
existence from the earth - he had allowed this farce to continue for far too
long. Gathering his power, boosted by the dranath, he prepared to blast them
all to hell...and then he looked up to see a hooded figure standing in the gallery
above, with seven Hogwarts students tagging along after her. She was hooded and
cloaked, everything recognizable hidden, but he knew her.
His soul knew her. Kate? What was she doing here?
And while he was distracted, Greyson himself grabbed his left arm and pushed
the sleeve up to his elbow, exposing...flawless white skin.
No Dark Mark.
Of course there wasn't - he covered it with the best illusion spells and
glamour he was capable of, a multi-layered tangle of wand magic, ardeur, blood
magic and everything else he could think of. Luc had no desire to go to Azkaban
through carelessness.
They began to unravel it, because proof that he was hiding something was not
proof that he had a Dark Mark. And instead of blasting them as he should, as
every instinct screamed at him to, he tipped his head back and stared at Kate,
lost himself in her endless green eyes and the sense of peace she had always
inspired in him.
Otherwise he would have destroyed the whole room, and everything he had worked
for and achieved in his whole life.
***************************************
Kate feasted her eyes on the man she hadn't seen since she'd left Hogwarts
twenty years ago, leaving him so that he could achieve his ambitions without
being hampered by a mudblood wife. Not, she believed, that he wouldn't have
achieved them anyway...but he would not have been so respected by all. The High
Clan would never have accepted his marriage to her, even if Lucius threw the
whole weight of his support behind them.
She had followed his rise throughout the years, watching from America where she
had fled, from Boston and her position as Mrs. Greyson...and seeing him again
every day in her son - the most precious thing in her life. She'd named him
after the very first Malfoy - the greatest of them all, and perhaps the purest.
It had been her greatest hope that he would grow up like his father and not
Benjamin - and bringing him here to witness the stark differences between them
had been the most effective way of punching home the last lesson.
She'd seen Bran's eyes as he watched Luc and Benjamin spar, seen the slight
frown between his eyes as he wondered just why his father was behaving
so...crudely. He was playing the melodramatic villain, without even the flair
to bring it off well. His transparent, almost childish triumph at finally
bringing Luc down was distasteful to Bran, after three months in Slytherin.
To Kate it was sickening - she was ashamed to call this man husband. So she
stood above and looked down at Luc, keeping him calm, stopping him from
destroying himself before Lucius and the ambassador could come and destroy Ben
for him, and before his accusers unraveled the illusion and found the Dark Mark
underneath.
***********************************
Severus watched Luc, puzzled. Why was he submitting so calmly? He had noticed
Lucius' absence, they all had - but surely Luc didn't think that Lucius of all
people had the necessary reputation to quash this completely? He couldn't save
Luc now. And then he noticed Luc's eyes were not closed, as he had thought, but
focused on a dark, shadowed part of the gallery above.
A figure moved, and she came into view, the children behind her...what in
Merlin's name did she think she was doing? Bringing herself, Potter, and
Malfoy, not to mention Brandon, who was unmistakably Malfoy, here? In full view
of the Death Eaters in the crowd? Surely she saw them?
Of course she did - she looked straight at him. And smiled.
*************************************
Lucius opened the door gently, slipped inside quietly and viewed the
proceedings with an indulgent light in his eyes. Then he looked to Snape and
the other Death Eaters, paused momentarily, and smiled slowly.
With feline grace he moved aside and allowed the ambassador to enter.
"What is the meaning of this?" came the hard, cutting, authoritative
voice, carrying easily over the curses and the spells of the aurors, over the
murmuring of the crowd. It bought everything to a standstill as they paused
guiltily, realizing just what they had done. Only Greyson stood unmoved.
"We're unmasking a Death Eater," he said defiantly, scowling.
Luc's eyes turned towards the ambassador, and an unmistakable light of
amusement lit his eyes as he cast his eye over the tableau. The ambassador's
face was flushed and he seemed to have grown two inches in height. "And
have you gone through the correct procedure for unmasking a Death Eater, Mr.
Greyson? Have you notified the Ministry and the Aurors, have you received a
warrant for his arrest, and have you formally put him under arrest before you
began questioning him?"
Greyson flushed. "It was not necessary. We had reliable evidence from an
anonymous source within the Death Eaters..."
"Reliable evidence from an anonymous, Death Eater source?" The
ambassador hissed incredulously. "Are you mad? You'd take a Death Eater's
word over the tai-pan's?"
Slowly, the rest of the judges put distance between themselves and Greyson.
"I have had it up to here with your fanatic crusade against the Malfoy,
Greyson." His voice was soft, almost hissing, and utterly furious.
"You have nearly played into the Dark Lord's hands and brought down the
whole English wizarding economy, and you didn't even have the sense to suspect
you were being used. You are a disgrace to the American Auror Corps, and after
I'm finished with you you'll be lucky if you're ever offered a job again."
************************************
Brandon flushed with shame to see his father so publicly disgraced, but he was
even more ashamed of his father's actions. Draco came up beside him, and
whispered, "That's your father?" Bran nodded. Draco looked between
him and Greyson, and then put a hand on his shoulder. "You're better rid
of him, Bran. That's not a man you want to claim as father."
Kate only laughed, but her eyes were wary, watching the Death Eaters in the
back of the room, who, thwarted of their plan to use the system against Luc,
were now fingering their wands and moving towards the strategic points in the
room. The children followed her eyes, all seven of them understanding the
implications, and became very silent as they watched the inevitable unfold.
*************************************
Luc and Lucius saw - they had been expecting this. But Luc was bound with
magical chains to the chair, and any power he unleashed would be uncontrolled
and wild. Lucius still had a choice - to join with the Death Eaters, even after
he had brought the ambassador to foil their plans, or to stand with Luc and
bring the Dark Lord's wrath down upon himself and his House, his land, and his
people.
He looked up to where he had seen Kate, with his son behind her, standing with
his nephew and with Potter and the de Sauvigny Heir. Could he risk them? Would
they be safer if he joined with Voldemort, sacrificed Luc? Or would Voldemort,
now that he had forced Luc to destroy his own blood, take him further and
further down the path to hell than he had ever dreamed of going before? Could
he see his one and only son bend knee to Voldemort, receive the soul-
blackening Dark Mark, symbolic enslavement?
He had been willing to pay that price himself, for his own ambition - but Draco
would be paying for Lucius' own ambition, not his own. His son didn't want to
be a Death Eater, and had enough faith in his father to tell him openly, and to
trust him to prevent it happening.
Lucius hated having his hand forced. He hated being backed into a corner, and
he hated having to choose between two impossible choices. But sometimes these
things needed to be done - sometimes things had to be done for the greater good
of the whole, of the Clan, of the family...and a good Clan Lord knew that.
That had been one of the first things his father had told him, and that he had
told Draco.
The Clan was everything - individuals mattered little in the grand scheme, but
the Clan had endured for centuries, and would endure for centuries more. Always
act for the greater good of the Clan, and not oneself. Oh, Lady...it was time
for the Malfoy to end their relationship with Voldemort, and if that meant that
Lucius himself had to go, well...
He ripped the invisibility spell hiding the Death Eaters apart, revealing their
dark cloaked figures to the whole room, and whipped out his own wand,
destroying the chains binding Luc to the chair. When Crabbe Snr spun around
incredulously to face him, he smiled thinly, mirthlessly, and killed him. He
drew their fire, taking it away from Luc and the spectators, who were now
screaming and stampeding towards the door, the aurors on the bench finally
coming to their senses and drawing out their wands, shouting to them all to get
out.
Luc was trying desperately to get out of the way without having to defend
himself, trying to get up the stairs to reach Kate and the children, who had
their wands out and were looking nervous but composed. He took a moment to
assess their wand style - it had definitely improved since he'd taken over
their teaching - before he dropped to the floor to dodge a flash of green
light. Gods, what he wouldn't do to get his hands on a gun...! He knew Lucius
was covering him, and reminded himself to do something nice for his brother
next time he saw him...
He got to the gallery just in front of a barrage of fatal curses and dived,
throwing his full weight into them, knocking them down all just as the ceiling
crashed down around their heads. He threw his power into a shield, it wavered a
little (well, quite a lot) but it held. Sheltered by the ceiling, he pulled
them along behind him, trying to get out through the gallery door so they
wouldn't have to pass through the Death Eaters below.
Harry balked, digging in his heels. "We can't just run," he shouted,
stunned.
Luc ignored him and grabbed him by the upper arm, ready to drag him, when
Hermione spoke up in support. "What about all the people down there? Are
you just going to leave them?"
He looked down at her, exasperated. "Yes," he said impatiently.
"There are three fully trained aurours down there, and they're more than
capable of handling anything. Now let's go, before they realize we're still
alive."
But this time it was Draco - pragmatic, ruthless Draco who had no desire to die
or be caught by Death Eaters, who objected. "What about my father?"
he asked softly, almost naively.
Luc stopped, stunned. What about Lucius? "He's holding them off for us,
Draco. Gaining time for us, so that we can get out. Do you want to see all that
effort wasted?"
He drew himself up. "We can't just leave him!" Lady of Ravens, it
seemed Draco had a stubborn, Gryffindoric side too. What a time for it to
manifest...
Luc sighed. "Run," he said, firmly. "Don't look back, or stop,
for anything." And, cursing at stubborn fools who should know better, and
including himself in that category, he headed back down the stairs.
It was chaos - absolute chaos. Aurors and Death Eaters were cursing each other,
and because of the small room, ricochets were going everywhere...and there was
Lucius, back to back with Alastor Moody, of all people...Luc almost smiled. His
brother looked up, and the expression on his face was clear for all to see.
"What are you doing here?" he mouthed, but Luc just shrugged. Pulling
out his wand, because it was the only way he could possibly control his magic,
he started cursing and hexing, and pulling out a very wicked killing knife, he
started stabbing and slitting.
Once again, the world seemed to slow down, and once again, he fell into the
rhythm of fighting and killing. Avoiding curses, he fought his way towards
Lucius, trying to get close enough that he could apparate them both out, it
didn't matter where...he was almost close enough to touch, almost close enough
to grasp his brother's hand, and was drawing on his power and focusing on the
woods outside Hogwarts, had in fact brushed fingertips with Lucius when he
heard a high pitched cry and a young voice cry out "Avada Kedavra!"
from above on the gallery.
There was an endless, drawn out moment as he looked into Lucius' eyes, as he
recognized the voice as Draco's, desperate and afraid, as he saw the moment
Lucius knew either he or his son was going to die. A kind of resigned
amusement, a momentary sadness, and a dawning determination, and an
unmistakable order all ran through his eyes, locked on Luc's, and through the
hand that had finally grasped his, gripped his for the very last time in
friendship, love, and acknowledgement.
"Go," he said softly, calmly. "It is for the best. Look after
him, brother."
Then Lucius let go, and Luc was left on his own, in a roaring silence with his
heartbeat thudding in his ears...realizing he had no other choice, he fought
his way back to the children with unstoppable ferocity, killing whoever and
whatever stood in his way. He caught up with them where they fought with three
Death Eaters, holding their own but being slowly, inevitably forced back
towards a hole in the floor.
Clearing his mind of everything but the need for absolute control, he focused
everything he had on the one spell, on the one result, and then, when he was
absolutely sure that he dare not wait any longer, he let his power, augmented
and boosted and made uncontrollable by dranath, flow through the rigid, utterly
disciplined control structure he'd created...
The Death Eaters disintegrated, and the door was blown open - wasting no more
time he grabbed them, and Kate too, and pulled them along behind him at a dead
run, along the gallery and out the door.
But before he left, he looked back one last time.
Lucius had gone under - pounded by too many curses to count, his shields had
finally weakened and then broken, and they'd brought him to his knees. However,
instead of killing him, as had been their first intention, they were dragging
him towards the door, struggling all the way, taking him in Luc's place to the
Dark Lord.
One last time, their eyes met - "Go, you fool," whispered Lucius
Malfoy, Lord of High Clan Malfoy, Luc's beloved brother, on his way to an
agonizing death.
Luc went.
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