A/N: I would just like to say I'm sorry (to those who notice) for portraying Lucius in a totally different light in this chapter compared to the last. But it's been literally months since I started writing again, and I've gained new insight on him. I'd like to rewrite chapter 1 so as to fit in with this new perspective, but right now I'm afraid I'd ruin it. Kinda hard to explain. So hope you enjoy anyway!

Luscious Kinney - Thanks, I hope you like this chapter!

Queen Li - I know this took forever, but hopefully you'll like it.

hids - Thanks! Hopefully everyone will still like Draco as the story progresses.

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Chapter 2: The Death of Lucius

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The crowd cheered as Draco and Hermione Malfoy made their way onto the dance floor. Various couples then joined in as the music started. In Draco's mind, it was the perfect evening for a wedding reception. Held in the backyard of Malfoy Manor on a lovely July day, it was still comfortably warm without the light of the sun. Electric lights and torches provided enough lumination for the celebration to go on. Everybody was having a great time and said the wedding was beautiful.

The wedding was too wonderful for words to describe. A day that would forever stick in my mind. The sun was shining brighter than it had ever shown before. The cathedral was ornately decorated, and the floating candles, everybody said, were the best decorations of all. Multitudes of guests turned out. And my father was there.

Draco glanced at Lucius from the dance floor. He saw his father's somber eyes scan across the twirling and swaying bodies. Draco's smile faded slightly, which caused concern in Hermione.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, averting his gaze back to her, but not before she turned around to find the object of his stare.

Hermione sighed. "Maybe you should go talk to him." Draco smirked in thought.

I'd invited Father, but I doubted whether he would come. As I stood at the altar, I looked at him sitting in the front row. He never smiled again after Mother's death (though it was rare to see him smile anyway), but I knew he was happy for me. Happy that I found someone to love, like he once had.

"Excuse me," Draco muttered politely as he stepped off the floor and took a seat by Lucius. He'd never actually had a talk with his father before, so everything felt a bit uncomfortable. "Father… I…"

Lucius held up his hand, silencing his son. "Don't worry about me, Draco. I'm fine." Glancing up into the sky he continued, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to take care of. Good night, and congratulations." He stood up and walked into the Manor. Draco sat there for a minute with his face buried in his hands.

"Don't worry about Lucius, Draco. I'm sure he'll be fine." Hermione, who suddenly stood in front of him, took Draco's hand with a huge grin and, with her free hand, lifted up the bottom of her wedding gown as she led him back onto the dance floor.

Hermione looked so beautiful in her dress. It was made of a silky white material and accented with well-placed pearls. When I first saw her walk down the aisle, my heart gave a great big leap. That was the second best part of the wedding.

I could've died from happiness when I heard those words come out of her mouth. "I do." And the elation with which she said them… it's too hard to describe. I still don't know how she managed to forgive me after all those times I teased her and insulted her. I was an arrogant and snobbish git back then, and I hated Hermione with a passion (and she probably felt the same way about me). Sometimes I wonder how she ended up being the one for me.

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It had been a month since the wedding, and Hermione was sitting at the dining room table, sipping from a cup of tea and looking up at the ceiling every once in a while. Draco watched her from where he sat; he knew she was beginning to doubt the words she spoke to him at the wedding.

"I haven't seen him in three weeks," she finally said.

Draco sighed and sat back, unable to find any words.

My father barely ever came out of his study on the third floor, and when he did, he always looked old and weary. He was not the same Lucius I grew up with, proud and noble. I was growing worried. Some days I would wonder if he died up there, but I would go upstairs only to hear voices coming from the study. And one of them was always his.

It was a sunny Saturday in August when Draco saw Lucius for the first time in almost a month. Hermione was out shopping in Diagon Alley, and Draco, in his loneliness and boredom, had subjected himself to wandering aimlessly around the manor. His little tour ended in the parlor, where he saw his father staring out of the glass doors into the garden in the backyard. Lucius looked very feeble and pale, almost like he was Draco's grandfather rather than his father. Draco could tell he hadn't been eating or sleeping. His grey eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were weighing heavily.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He didn't know what to say. He repeated this several times, shifting weight from one foot to the other until a voice said, "Out with it."

Draco looked up. He saw Lucius' reflection staring at him from the glass. Finally he gestured to an armchair and said, "We need to talk. Have a seat?"

Lucius waved his hand in refusal. "I'd prefer to stand. I feel like I've been sitting for years." He continued to gaze through the grass into the sunlit yard.

Draco sighed. "You don't look healthy, Father. You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry," he replied in an overconfident tone. It was the same tone Draco was used to hearing, but the voice itself was less bearing. It gave off a sense of tiredness, a need to rest.

"What have you been doing up there?"

"You'll find out when it's time, Draco." Lucius breathed a deep sigh and turned around. It was a sort of hobbly turn, and Draco noticed that he needed a cane to walk nowadays, that he couldn't even carry himself on his own two feet anymore.

Father limped his way across the floor to where I stood. A second passed when we just stared into each other's eyes. I couldn't read his emotions until he wrapped his arms around me. My father, Lucius Malfoy, was giving me a hug. I returned the gesture and felt him crying into my shoulder. He wasn't crying on the outside, but I could feel it inside. And I was crying, too. He then let go, and stepped back, apparating back upstairs. But just before he disappeared, I saw a little smile appear on his lips.

That was the last time I saw Father before he died.

When Lucius left, Draco collapsed into an armchair, looking shocked. He knew that would be the last conversation he ever had with his father. And he knew that Lucius was slowly killing himself, intentional or not. He sat there for what felt like hours, staring off into nothingness. The next thing he remembered was Hermione was kneeling in front of him, bringing him back to reality.

"Draco! Draco!" Hermione looked concerned. "Draco, love, are you okay?"

He gazed into her eyes with a sadness she hadn't seen since Hogwarts. "My father is dying."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. "Oh, Draco…" she whispered. He slid off the chair, and fell onto his knees on the floor. The two lovers kneeled there, enveloped each other's arms.