Grace of the Devil
Epilouge:
Lucius sat in his leather armchair, drumming his long, pale fingers against the arm. He was silent, though there were chattering people all around him. Chattering WEASLEYS. There was Micheal, looking as nervous as Lucius felt, and his red-haired brother and sister, and her sister's husband. Their parents, the red-haired Bill and the part-veela, French Fleur, were chatting on the couch, anticipating the birth of their first grandchild. Theirs...and mine, Lucius thought, and excitment filled him.
Lucius had forgotten one person. In the room came Arthur Weasley, looking even older then Lucius felt. The man was near his eighties now, expecting his SECOND great-grandchild. The man, who had long been Lucius's enemy, approached him, and Lucius smiled politely. He didn't like the meddling man, but they'd called a truce before Grace and Micheal's wedding. Like it or not, they were family now.
"You look very nervous," Arthur said, taking the seat next to Lucius.
Lucius nodded, and smiled in shame. "I know I shouldn't be. It's just childbirth, after all. I just never imagined I would be a grandparent."
"Hell, I never imagined I'd be a GREAT-grandparent," Arthur said, "and I've been one for a year now. I guess I'm just near the end of my life. And the sooner the better, so I can join Molly again."
Lucius felt sympathy for the man he'd never liked. His wife, the little plump, red-haired thing, had just died a year before. "Yes, well, this new baby...it'll brighten our lives, hopefully."
"You'll get to live with it, lucky dog," Weasley said kindly.
Suddenly, the room went quick when screams were heard upstairs. Lucius gripped the arms of his chair as he heard his daughter's pained cries. The whole room went embarressed when they heard her scream, "Fucking men! They should all be casterated, the basturds!"
"Oh, my," the little French mother of Micheal said, putting an embarressed hand over her mouth. Lucius had to smile: his daughter still had a fighting spirit. Though I almost forced it out of her, he remembered sadly.
Arthur seemed to sense Lucius's feelings, and he patted his hand comfortingly. "She'll be alright." And Lucius knew that he wasn't just referring to the child labor.
Almost twenty minutes later, the midwife's assistant came downstairs. Everyone jumped to their feet, though Lucius rose with difficulty with the help of his cane. The young woman looked around at all of them, and smile. "It's a boy!" Cheers rang around the room, and everyone rushed towards the door. But the assistant put her hand up. "She only wants her husband and father with her now." Lucius looked around at the Weasleys, and his eyes met Micheal's blue ones. They crinkled in an excited smile, and the two men followed the woman silently up the stairs.
After Micheal and Grace had married seven months ago, they'd moved into Malfoy Manor. Because it was rightfully their house, Lucius gave them the master bedroom and settled into Draco's old room, finally clearing out his long-dead sons things after so many years. Now, they were led to the master bedroom, where Grace's child had been born...where SHE had been born, where her brother had been born, where Lucius HIMSELF had been born. The old bedroom had seen the beginnings of many Malfoy's lives. And now, Lucius thought, it had seen the beginnings of a Weasley. How ironic...the family that I used mock for being poor has taken over our house. I am the last Malfoy.
The midwife's assistant opened the door and let them in. Lucius resisted the urge to push Micheal out of the way as he entered the room first. Lucius followed, leaning on his cane. The room was brightly lit, and he could see the midwife standing over the bed. As Lucius approached, he saw his daughter, exhausted, sweaty, but beaming. And she was holding a little bundle in her arms, a little red-haired bundle. She handed it to Micheal as Lucius neared, and she allowed him to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Congratulations, darling."
"Thank you, Daddy," Grace whispered. Marriage, and now motherhood, still hadn't made her grow out of that name for her father. Adn Lucius was glad of that.
"He's beautiful," Lucius whispered, leaning over to look at his grandson. And he WAS. He had red skin, probably to be pale with lots of freckles, Lucius thought. And on top of it's little head was a patch of the Weasley red hair.
"Would you like to hold him?" Micheal asked, and without waiting for an answer, handed the small child to Lucius. As Lucius looked down into the small baby's sleeping face, he was taken back to the day Grace had been born. Well, she's grown now, Lucius thought, looking over at his daughter with pride. He looked at the baby again. "A Weasley, my grandson. Who would've ever thought?"
"We've thought of a name," Grace said. "But we wanted to run it by you first."
"Go ahead," Lucius said softly, still looking into the little boy's face.
"Well," Micheal said. "If he'd been a girl, we would've named him Molly Lenore, after his late great-grandmother and his lovely mother."
"Oh, Micheal," Grace said modestly.
"That'll be a good name, when you DO have a girl," Lucius said, in a tone that he hoped would imply that they'd BETTER have a girl. "But what about this little boy?"
"Well," Grace said softly, "I know that you're disapointed, that the Malfoy name is almost dead..."
Lucius snorted lightly. "It's better off dead, trust me, my dear."
"That doesn't mean that YOUR name has to die," Grace continued. "Or my brother's. So we thought, well, how about...Draco Lucius?"
Lucius looked down at the baby's face. The sweet little boy, who would know no evil in his life. Not as long as his grandfather was alive and kicking. No, Lucius thought. Those horrid names aren't right for him. He shook his head. "Let's put those names to rest. I'm sure that you have a better one in mind."
Grace actually looked relieved. "Well...how about Noah Arthur?"
"Noah Arthur," Lucius whispered, looking down at the baby again. "Yes, I like that name. Very Muggle. Yes, it's perfect."
"Glad you approve," Micheal said with kind sarcasm. Lucius handed Noah back to his father, and sat down on the bed next to his daughter. He kissed her sweaty forehead again.
"I love you, Gracie."
"I love you, too, Daddy." She took his hand and squeezed it.
"You've always made me proud," Lucius said softly. "You've never disapointed me, my dear. You're so perfect."
Grace shook her head. "No, I'm not perfect."
Although Lucius chose not to argue, he had to disagree. To him, Grace WAS perfect. And, although she was married and a mother now, she was still his little girl. She didn't belong completly to him anymore, but somehow, that didn't bother him.
No matter what, he thought happily, she'll always be MINE.
Epilouge:
Lucius sat in his leather armchair, drumming his long, pale fingers against the arm. He was silent, though there were chattering people all around him. Chattering WEASLEYS. There was Micheal, looking as nervous as Lucius felt, and his red-haired brother and sister, and her sister's husband. Their parents, the red-haired Bill and the part-veela, French Fleur, were chatting on the couch, anticipating the birth of their first grandchild. Theirs...and mine, Lucius thought, and excitment filled him.
Lucius had forgotten one person. In the room came Arthur Weasley, looking even older then Lucius felt. The man was near his eighties now, expecting his SECOND great-grandchild. The man, who had long been Lucius's enemy, approached him, and Lucius smiled politely. He didn't like the meddling man, but they'd called a truce before Grace and Micheal's wedding. Like it or not, they were family now.
"You look very nervous," Arthur said, taking the seat next to Lucius.
Lucius nodded, and smiled in shame. "I know I shouldn't be. It's just childbirth, after all. I just never imagined I would be a grandparent."
"Hell, I never imagined I'd be a GREAT-grandparent," Arthur said, "and I've been one for a year now. I guess I'm just near the end of my life. And the sooner the better, so I can join Molly again."
Lucius felt sympathy for the man he'd never liked. His wife, the little plump, red-haired thing, had just died a year before. "Yes, well, this new baby...it'll brighten our lives, hopefully."
"You'll get to live with it, lucky dog," Weasley said kindly.
Suddenly, the room went quick when screams were heard upstairs. Lucius gripped the arms of his chair as he heard his daughter's pained cries. The whole room went embarressed when they heard her scream, "Fucking men! They should all be casterated, the basturds!"
"Oh, my," the little French mother of Micheal said, putting an embarressed hand over her mouth. Lucius had to smile: his daughter still had a fighting spirit. Though I almost forced it out of her, he remembered sadly.
Arthur seemed to sense Lucius's feelings, and he patted his hand comfortingly. "She'll be alright." And Lucius knew that he wasn't just referring to the child labor.
Almost twenty minutes later, the midwife's assistant came downstairs. Everyone jumped to their feet, though Lucius rose with difficulty with the help of his cane. The young woman looked around at all of them, and smile. "It's a boy!" Cheers rang around the room, and everyone rushed towards the door. But the assistant put her hand up. "She only wants her husband and father with her now." Lucius looked around at the Weasleys, and his eyes met Micheal's blue ones. They crinkled in an excited smile, and the two men followed the woman silently up the stairs.
After Micheal and Grace had married seven months ago, they'd moved into Malfoy Manor. Because it was rightfully their house, Lucius gave them the master bedroom and settled into Draco's old room, finally clearing out his long-dead sons things after so many years. Now, they were led to the master bedroom, where Grace's child had been born...where SHE had been born, where her brother had been born, where Lucius HIMSELF had been born. The old bedroom had seen the beginnings of many Malfoy's lives. And now, Lucius thought, it had seen the beginnings of a Weasley. How ironic...the family that I used mock for being poor has taken over our house. I am the last Malfoy.
The midwife's assistant opened the door and let them in. Lucius resisted the urge to push Micheal out of the way as he entered the room first. Lucius followed, leaning on his cane. The room was brightly lit, and he could see the midwife standing over the bed. As Lucius approached, he saw his daughter, exhausted, sweaty, but beaming. And she was holding a little bundle in her arms, a little red-haired bundle. She handed it to Micheal as Lucius neared, and she allowed him to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Congratulations, darling."
"Thank you, Daddy," Grace whispered. Marriage, and now motherhood, still hadn't made her grow out of that name for her father. Adn Lucius was glad of that.
"He's beautiful," Lucius whispered, leaning over to look at his grandson. And he WAS. He had red skin, probably to be pale with lots of freckles, Lucius thought. And on top of it's little head was a patch of the Weasley red hair.
"Would you like to hold him?" Micheal asked, and without waiting for an answer, handed the small child to Lucius. As Lucius looked down into the small baby's sleeping face, he was taken back to the day Grace had been born. Well, she's grown now, Lucius thought, looking over at his daughter with pride. He looked at the baby again. "A Weasley, my grandson. Who would've ever thought?"
"We've thought of a name," Grace said. "But we wanted to run it by you first."
"Go ahead," Lucius said softly, still looking into the little boy's face.
"Well," Micheal said. "If he'd been a girl, we would've named him Molly Lenore, after his late great-grandmother and his lovely mother."
"Oh, Micheal," Grace said modestly.
"That'll be a good name, when you DO have a girl," Lucius said, in a tone that he hoped would imply that they'd BETTER have a girl. "But what about this little boy?"
"Well," Grace said softly, "I know that you're disapointed, that the Malfoy name is almost dead..."
Lucius snorted lightly. "It's better off dead, trust me, my dear."
"That doesn't mean that YOUR name has to die," Grace continued. "Or my brother's. So we thought, well, how about...Draco Lucius?"
Lucius looked down at the baby's face. The sweet little boy, who would know no evil in his life. Not as long as his grandfather was alive and kicking. No, Lucius thought. Those horrid names aren't right for him. He shook his head. "Let's put those names to rest. I'm sure that you have a better one in mind."
Grace actually looked relieved. "Well...how about Noah Arthur?"
"Noah Arthur," Lucius whispered, looking down at the baby again. "Yes, I like that name. Very Muggle. Yes, it's perfect."
"Glad you approve," Micheal said with kind sarcasm. Lucius handed Noah back to his father, and sat down on the bed next to his daughter. He kissed her sweaty forehead again.
"I love you, Gracie."
"I love you, too, Daddy." She took his hand and squeezed it.
"You've always made me proud," Lucius said softly. "You've never disapointed me, my dear. You're so perfect."
Grace shook her head. "No, I'm not perfect."
Although Lucius chose not to argue, he had to disagree. To him, Grace WAS perfect. And, although she was married and a mother now, she was still his little girl. She didn't belong completly to him anymore, but somehow, that didn't bother him.
No matter what, he thought happily, she'll always be MINE.