"Lucius!" Narcissa Malfoy gasped as she fled down the stairs of Malfoy
Manor. "It's almost morning, and you've been gone the entire night!"
Lucius sighed tiredly, but managed a smile and a small kiss to his wife.
Instead of answering her unspoken question, he hesitantly gave her Draco, and directed her eyes to the pale, flaming mark on her son's arm.
"Draco has been honored by our master," he murmured. "Our son .has been chosen to be his heir."
Her eyes hardened. "You mean to tell me," she spat, "that you have disappeared for the entirety of the night so that our son could be scarred by that monster. You mean to tell me that our son is his heir?"
Lucius remained silent, though his anger was beginning to brew. Years ago, when Voldemort was just beginning to rise to power, Narcissa's family had been hesitant to join his ranks, and had soon been destroyed by the dark wizard. This he already knew when he proclaimed his love to her, and their relationship, though strained, had continued. While she allowed his service under the dark lord to continue, he'd successfully kept quiet the fact that his wife, though beautiful, pureblooded, and loving, was not a huge supporter of Voldemort. But now, he thought, how could Narcissa not see that this mark was supposed to be cause for celebration? Their son had just been deemed the heir to the most powerful wizard in the world!
"Lucius? How could you have done this?" Narcissa cried.
"Woman, you fool!" roared Lucius. "Can't you see? Voldemort, my master, is the answer to the troubles of the Wizarding World! Narcissa, we are pureblooded! Too long have the mudbloods been allowed to taint our world! Can't you see? There is no good or evil, there is only-"
"Lucius, just tell me this," Narcissa hissed, interrupting him. Steadying her breath, she finally spoke out the question that she knew would decide all.
"Who would you rather have," she spat. "Me, or that cruel monster you call your lord?"
He answered slowly, staring her straight in the eye. "I would have. the best for our son, and that would be to allow him to fulfill his destiny. I would have him serve our master."
Her eyes filled up with tears, and with a small shake of her head, she sprinted up the stairs to her chambers, Draco still in her arms.
Lucius had not regretted his words for one moment. Seething with a massive amount of frustration and anger, he screwed his fists tightly, and stared at the retreating back of Narcissa Malfoy. How could the woman he loved not see his point of view?
An expensive glass statue of Slytherin, aligned beautifully at the entrance of his home, shattered into a thousand pieces.
It was this scene that Dobby the house-elf stumbled upon when he entered the main foyer of the Malfoy manor in a bustle of sound.
"D-d-dobby SORRY!" Dobby exclaimed, stuttering loudly.
Lucius growled frustratingly, and his already terrible mood deteriorated instantly. Grabbing his servant by the scruff of his tunic, the man spilt his wrath upon the poor house-elf's ears.
"What," the dark wizard hissed with deadly anger, "-have I told you about interrupting your master's businesses?"
This time, a painting shattered.
"Master!" wailed Dobby. "Dobby is really really really reeeaally sorry!"
Shaking free of its master's grip, it frantically began hitting its head hard against the marble floor, as if oblivious to all else. Remarkably, even as it was torturing itself, the house-elf still managed to be heard.
"Dobby saw auror wizards coming to Master's manor-" it said between painful gasps.
Lucius' eyes widened. "Dobby! Make sure Narcissa and Draco are in their rooms!" he barked as full realization suddenly hit him. He rubbed his head in sudden fear. If the Ministry had heard about his son's birth, and had wanted to see- all he knew was that Draco's newly attained dragon mark would cause more than a little gossip.
His manor was under too much risk of being searched, again.
But when he opened the door for his visitors, their expressions were that of grim satisfaction.
"Lucius Malfoy, my friend," greeted the top-auror coldly. A smile of almost smug satisfaction was etched onto his face, as one hand held up the rumpled newspaper that bore the bold headlines that would cause many wizards to celebrate that day.
"You-Know-Who has fallen. You are under arrest."
Lucius sighed tiredly, but managed a smile and a small kiss to his wife.
Instead of answering her unspoken question, he hesitantly gave her Draco, and directed her eyes to the pale, flaming mark on her son's arm.
"Draco has been honored by our master," he murmured. "Our son .has been chosen to be his heir."
Her eyes hardened. "You mean to tell me," she spat, "that you have disappeared for the entirety of the night so that our son could be scarred by that monster. You mean to tell me that our son is his heir?"
Lucius remained silent, though his anger was beginning to brew. Years ago, when Voldemort was just beginning to rise to power, Narcissa's family had been hesitant to join his ranks, and had soon been destroyed by the dark wizard. This he already knew when he proclaimed his love to her, and their relationship, though strained, had continued. While she allowed his service under the dark lord to continue, he'd successfully kept quiet the fact that his wife, though beautiful, pureblooded, and loving, was not a huge supporter of Voldemort. But now, he thought, how could Narcissa not see that this mark was supposed to be cause for celebration? Their son had just been deemed the heir to the most powerful wizard in the world!
"Lucius? How could you have done this?" Narcissa cried.
"Woman, you fool!" roared Lucius. "Can't you see? Voldemort, my master, is the answer to the troubles of the Wizarding World! Narcissa, we are pureblooded! Too long have the mudbloods been allowed to taint our world! Can't you see? There is no good or evil, there is only-"
"Lucius, just tell me this," Narcissa hissed, interrupting him. Steadying her breath, she finally spoke out the question that she knew would decide all.
"Who would you rather have," she spat. "Me, or that cruel monster you call your lord?"
He answered slowly, staring her straight in the eye. "I would have. the best for our son, and that would be to allow him to fulfill his destiny. I would have him serve our master."
Her eyes filled up with tears, and with a small shake of her head, she sprinted up the stairs to her chambers, Draco still in her arms.
Lucius had not regretted his words for one moment. Seething with a massive amount of frustration and anger, he screwed his fists tightly, and stared at the retreating back of Narcissa Malfoy. How could the woman he loved not see his point of view?
An expensive glass statue of Slytherin, aligned beautifully at the entrance of his home, shattered into a thousand pieces.
It was this scene that Dobby the house-elf stumbled upon when he entered the main foyer of the Malfoy manor in a bustle of sound.
"D-d-dobby SORRY!" Dobby exclaimed, stuttering loudly.
Lucius growled frustratingly, and his already terrible mood deteriorated instantly. Grabbing his servant by the scruff of his tunic, the man spilt his wrath upon the poor house-elf's ears.
"What," the dark wizard hissed with deadly anger, "-have I told you about interrupting your master's businesses?"
This time, a painting shattered.
"Master!" wailed Dobby. "Dobby is really really really reeeaally sorry!"
Shaking free of its master's grip, it frantically began hitting its head hard against the marble floor, as if oblivious to all else. Remarkably, even as it was torturing itself, the house-elf still managed to be heard.
"Dobby saw auror wizards coming to Master's manor-" it said between painful gasps.
Lucius' eyes widened. "Dobby! Make sure Narcissa and Draco are in their rooms!" he barked as full realization suddenly hit him. He rubbed his head in sudden fear. If the Ministry had heard about his son's birth, and had wanted to see- all he knew was that Draco's newly attained dragon mark would cause more than a little gossip.
His manor was under too much risk of being searched, again.
But when he opened the door for his visitors, their expressions were that of grim satisfaction.
"Lucius Malfoy, my friend," greeted the top-auror coldly. A smile of almost smug satisfaction was etched onto his face, as one hand held up the rumpled newspaper that bore the bold headlines that would cause many wizards to celebrate that day.
"You-Know-Who has fallen. You are under arrest."