Disclaimer: I own the shoddy new rhyming couplets for the chapter titles! The next chapter will be called 'declining'. And, folks, that may nor may not be a little clue as to the chapter content! Anyway, legal mumbo-jumbo. JKRowling owns all characters pertained, I haven't asked her permission, and I'm not saying these characters belong to me.
Heh, well, in the last chapter, I managed to trick you all into thinking of a threesome (I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it just wouldn't have worked in context! If you wish, I may write a silly little spin off with said threesome, and I'll post it up sometime. If you do want it, just bug me in a review!) Well, now we get to see a little more of Lucius' past, and Draco's reaction to it all. There'll also be spots of Lucius/Severus man-love, just to keep you all happy!
Warning: Yeah, you guessed it, more angst. But fluff as well, I think...
"I need a drink," Lucius proclaimed, not more than a minute or two after he and Severus had retreated into the study.
"You promised Draco," Severus pointed out sternly, closing his eyes indulgently as Lucius' played with his hair. "I think you should keep your word Luc."
"I know I should," the Malfoy agreed, sounding regretful. "But I just don't want to be coherent when he comes in here, disgusted with me." There was a slight hitch in Lucius' voice. "Do you reckon if we hurry, we can erase his memory?" he asked.
"Don't be silly," Severus scolded, opening his eyes and viewing an upside-down Lucius by tilting his head back. "And why on earth would he be disgusted? It wasn't your fault."
"I didn't do enough to prevent it," the blond answered, dropping his jittery hands from the silken strands of ebony hair before him. "I should have done more."
"If you'd done anymore, he would have killed you. You know that!" Severus protested.
"...well then... Maybe it would have been better that way..." Lucius' voice had dropped again, and he returned his hands to Severus' hair. "At least there's still you – you won't leave me, will you?"
"Don't be daft – of course I won't," the potions-master assured the pureblood. Because I couldn't imagine my life without you...
Draco fumbled with the button on the base, and finally succeeded in pressing it in the right manner. Immediately, the memories began to unfold before him, and he leant forwards slightly in order to get a better look. A few silvery tendrils reached out and wrapped around him, attempting to pull him into the memory, and he hurriedly sat back, not wanting to experience things quite so...vividly...as being within the memory would have allowed him too. Especially considering how shaken up father was...
The scene that finally swam into focus within the jewel-encrusted penseive was mostly white, showing the Malfoy manor covered in a layer of frosty snow. The view honed in on a young man trudging through the snow, hands jammed deeply into pockets and head down against the chill wind that was buffeting him from side to side. Draco could hear that the man was humming something – it sounded a bit like 'Fever', by Peggy Lee. Draco smiled, and when the young man looked up, he realised with a start that it was his father. Well, what were you expecting? These are his memories after all, stupid!
Draco ignored his own stupidity, and watched as his father (who must have been only around sixteen or so), scuffed his highly buffed shoes along the frost-covered path, before deviating, and stepping into the shin-deep snow on the grass. He reached down, and grabbed a handful of snow in bare hands, balling it up and then throwing it up into the air, stopping to watch it explode when it landed again. The young Lucius smiled a little, and bent down again, starting to gather snow into a pile, in order to make a snowman.
Whilst he did this, Draco was able to see another person creeping up behind Lucius, snowball in hand. Lucius rolled his own ball of snow around, until he had a sizable lump. Then, he stood up, and dusted his hands off, a proud sort of look on his face as he admired his own handiwork. Then, just as he'd described earlier, a snowball hit him directly in the side of the face, and he collapsed onto the snowman's body, sending the white powder flying everywhere. Draco covered his mouth with his hand, trying to contain a laugh.
His father stumbled to his feet, tripping on his cloak as he did so. Then, his jaw dropped, and the view changed to show – Grandfather. Before he went grey... Draco had only ever seen his Grandfather with brown hair in his portrait on the landing. He was surprised by how much healthier the man looked in this picture. His father and grandfather talked for a little while, but none of it seemed of much consequence, and Draco wondered if there was a way to fast-forward past this.
His hands were still on the edge of the penseive, and, almost as if it had heard his thoughts, the memories swirled, skipping forwards to the snowball sight, and then to show his father and grandfather walking back into the manor. Stop! This is where it needs to play from! Again, the penseive responded perfectly to his thoughts, beginning to play out the memories at normal speed once more.
Grandfather Lance had his arm thrown over Lucius' shoulders, and was walking with him through the manor, to what Draco supposed must have been his father's old rooms. They left a trail of water-droplets from the snow melting off their clothes, and a particularly large puddle gathered when they paused for a moment outside Lucius' rooms whilst he fumbled with the door. Finally, the handle turned, and they were able to get in – Lance followed Lucius in, and dropped down into a chair, conjuring up a fire and offering to have cocoa bought up.
"Yeah, alright. I'm just going to get changed, might have a shower," Lucius answered, walking towards another door. He pushed it open, and Draco could tell by the tiles on the wall that it must be the bathroom. The mirrors on the walls were surrounded by wrought-iron flowers, which twisted and turned, as though continuously growing at an incredible rate all around the mirror.
The next picture was one that Draco, for some reason, couldn't help but be enthralled by. His father shed his clothes, leaving them lying around haphazardly on the floor, pools of icy water collecting around them on the tiled floor. Remembering back to the strange dream he had had, Draco leant forwards, intrigued by the picture in front of him. This time, however, he leant too far, and the penseive's tendrils grabbed hold of him before he could pull himself back once more. With a small yelp, he was sucked into the past.
He landed with a small thump, and looking around, found that he was sitting on the same surface that the washbasin was sunk into. He shifted a little, trying to get comfortable on the cool surface, and tried to figure out where his father was. The sound of running water drew his attention to the shower, and he could just make out a dim outline through the frosted glass of the doors. So he's in the shower... What's so amazing about that? Draco wondered if his father hadn't managed to lose his few remaining marbles...
The sound of a door clicking made Draco start, and he looked at the door into the bedroom guiltily, waiting to be reprimanded. The door swung open, and Lance stepped in, dropping his cloak as he did so, and starting to work on the buckle of his belt as he padded across the tiles, worming his way around the piles of clothes on the floor. Draco recoiled, pressing himself back against the large mirror on the wall – Lance paused, and looked directly at him, running fingers through damp locks of hair. Then, he carried on towards the shower, now clad only in shirt and underwear.
"Bloody hell, ow!" his father exclaimed from within the shower, knocking into the door slightly as he fumbled to open it. His grandfather deftly whipped the towel from the rack by the shower, and removed his remaining clothes swiftly – Draco looked away with a twist of nausea in his stomach. It's about now that I realise I've seen enough...eurgh... Lance wrapped the towel around himself, and stood by the shower door, watching in amusement as Lucius obviously felt around for the towel.
His hand alighted on Lance's foot, and he prodded it a few times, before cracking open his eyes to check what he'd found. "Dad? What are you doing in here?" Lucius asked, rather indignantly, standing up. Lance just licked his lips, and whispered something in a low growl that Draco couldn't make out. Obviously, it wasn't a very pleasing proposition, as Lucius exclaimed, "What the fuck is up with you? You cannot be serious – this is absurd!"
Lance's cool composure exploded, and he began to yell – the shouts rang off the tiled walls, and Draco was so shocked that he literally fell off the surface, colliding painfully with the floor. He rolled over, and looked up to see his father trying to pull the door shut, and then it being flung open by his Grandfather, who stepped in. By watching the vague outlines beyond the glass, he was able to see his Grandfather stumble, and then his father come bolting out, grabbing his dripping wet cloak on the way. His father's eyes were wide and panicked, and Draco picked himself up before his Grandfather followed.
"Dad, what is it?" Lucius didn't answer Draco. He just fumbled with his door, throwing himself against it to try and open it. This didn't work, and he then looked around frantically. Draco rushed forwards, hoping to help, and grabbed hold of the handle, twisting it around, and also throwing himself against the wood. It was to no avail, and Lucius didn't even seem to notice his efforts. "Hey! Come on, don't give up, help me!" he cried, putting his shoulder against the wood, and pushing as hard as he could. Lucius ignored him.
"Hey come on, stop ignoring me and help!" he reached out to grab his father's arm...and his hand passed right through it. "What the fuck?" He tried again, and again his hand passed through his younger father, just as it would if he were swiping at a ghost. Though, instead of the slimy cold feeling you got from passing your arm through a ghost, Draco felt nothing at all.
The bathroom door slammed, and both Draco and Lucius turned around, pressing themselves up against the door. Draco watched his father fumble around for a weapon of some kind, and saw him pick up an expensive looking vase. Lucius threw it blindly, and it fell far short of the mark. Lance just guffawed at the pitiful attempt, and raised his wand. "Imperio," he muttered calmly. Draco smirked. Yeah, as if that would work on father!
"Come here Lucius." Draco expected nothing to happen, so when his father started obediently walking towards his Grandfather, he was shocked. What the-? But...he wouldn't...it doesn't...affect him... He felt confused, and winced as Lance poked Lucius in the chest, causing him to collapse heavily onto the floor. Then, he watched with a growing sense of horror in the pit of his stomach, as his Grandfather bent down, and grabbed his father's chin, forcing a kiss upon him. Oh my fucking God...
Lucius obviously did something to annoy Lance, as, the next thing Draco knew, Lucius was writhing on the floor, in the full-hold of the Cruciatus curse. "NO!" he bellowed, running forwards and attempting to tackle Lance. However, as he had done earlier with his father, he passed right through the man, and cannoned into the wall on the other side. A little dazed, he picked himself up, and turned around to see his Grandfather carry his prone father to the bed, and roughly throw him onto it.
Draco turned away once more, but, like a broom-crash, he found that he just had to look back. "You will kiss...and you will do as I say...understand?" Lance growled, hands already roaming all over Lucius' body, which was shuddering a great deal. Draco stared, unblinking, as his father's body was uncovered. Oh God...this is so...wrong...but I can't look away... He unconsciously licked his lips as the cloak was completely removed, and found himself wishing to be the one sitting astride Lucius on the bed...
Jesus...
Severus felt relaxed, despite the highly emotional state of his lover, and the importance of the situation. For now, at least, Lucius needed him. And he liked to feel needed. And, as long as I'm needed, I won't have to be alone. He once again took a peek at Lucius, to see how he was faring – the blond had turned his face to the side, and was looking out of the window at the darkening sky beyond the glass. This position displayed his noble profile to the full, and made the tears running down his cheeks all the more noticeable.
I don't think I've ever seen him quite this bad in my entire life, Severus thought, a tinge of worry to his thoughts. I just hope Draco understands...or else this might be enough to finish him off... Severus immediately cut off his own thoughts, not so much as wanting to contemplate would could occur. For now, he was content to know that, whilst Lucius didn't love him, he at least cared for him.
After all, the fact that he's sorry that he doesn't love me, must mean something...mustn't it? He thought back to their earlier conversation, trying to unravel it all in his head... However, everything was just so muddled and tangled that he wasn't able to. He sighed softly, and lifted his head from Lucius' lap. The other looked down, being startled out of his silent reverie by the movement. "Sev?"
"Just stretching," he explained, throwing his arms up into the air, and then joining hands in order to pop his back. "Here, is there room for me to sit?" he turned around and looked at the chair...it didn't look like it. However, ever accommodating, Lucius shuffled forwards, leaving enough room for Severus to sit down (if he didn't mind Lucius half-sitting on his lap.) Would anyone? He thought with a fond smile as he stood up, and slid into the space made for him.
"That enough room?" Lucius enquired, trying to subtly wipe the tears from his face. Severus felt very glad that the man had at least gained enough composure to do so, but grabbed his hands, and held hem in his own.
"Yes, thank you." Lucius turned around to raise an eyebrow, and try to get his hands back, and Severus quickly darted in, kissing the tears away. Then, he placed a calming kiss upon slightly parted lips, sharing the salty-sweet tears with the one who shed them. "Come here," Severus let go of his hands, and then grabbed him firmly around the waist, pulling the Malfoy fully onto his lap.
Lucius slumped a little, so that he could rest his head (turned slightly to the side) on Severus' shoulder. "Better?"
"A little," he answered, putting his own hands over Severus', which still encircled his waist. "I suppose all there is left to do, is wait."
Draco was unceremoniously thrown from the penseive and back onto the sofa as soon as that particular memory had ended. He shook his head, wiping frustrated tears from his cheeks, and also tenderly poking at the many bruises he'd managed to sustain before finally realising that there was no point trying to change the memory. It had already happened, and he couldn't touch the past anymore than he could touch the stars.
How could anyone do that to their own son...? I...I just... God, it's sick!No wonder father never – the portrait hidden away – moved to the other side of the manor... Didn't even go to Grandfather's funeral... Draco's hands were clasped firmly upon the edges of the penseive, and the misty contents swirled around. Pictures formed and then unformed, nothing staying for more than a second, hovering on the surface of years of turmoil.
He tore his eyes away from the mystifying sight, and looked over at the door to the study. How long had he been there, watching things that had already happened? How much longer would he be allowed to peruse his father's memories? He wasn't sure, and gently removed his fingers from the lip of the penseive, sitting back on the couch and staring at the shimmering contents of the expensive container.
What else is there to know? He wondered. What else does he want me to know? With some trepidation, he put his hands back on the sides of the vessel, and looked into it again, trying to think of something that might give him more clues about Lucius. Why is he like he is? And professor Snape...why – how – how did they...? His thoughts didn't even finish before another scene began to play before him.
This time, he carefully and fastidiously kept his distance. Every time a misty tendril attempted to wrap itself around his wrist, he would quickly snap his hand back, ensuring that he stayed this side of the timeline.
The image he saw was of his father, leaning against a battered old oak door, wand in hand and hair in disarray. Heavy footsteps echoed down a hallway some distance away, and two heartbeats thudded heavily in the musty air. Lucius looked down, to see a woman in her late thirties clutching her right arm close to her chest. It was wrapped in bandages, which were stained with a bright scarlet liquid. Blood, Draco realised, when she moved, and grimaced slightly.
That must be Grandmother Adriana. Lucius readjusted his stance, so that he was braced against the door. His Grandmother just continued to cower on the floor, whimpering softly as her arm obviously pained her. "Shh," his father urged, putting a finger to his lips, and then pressing his ear against the worn wood. She nodded, and placed her left fist before her mouth, muffling any sounds she might make.
There was an almighty explosion, and both of them ducked their heads down against the shower of rubble that rained down from the ceiling above. Adriana looked up first, and gasped when she saw blood running down her only child's face. "Darling, you're hurt!"
"Shh, it's nothing," he assured her in clipped tones, hushing her with hand-gestures. He put his ear back against the door, and the sound of footsteps started up again, quickly becoming louder and closer. Neither of the people in the room seemed to breathe, and it was only because he could see them that Draco knew there was anyone there at all. Draco saw his father reach down with his free hand (the left one), and withdraw a shining knife from his pocket. Squinting, he saw that it bared a close resemblance to the one that Lucius now used as a letter opener.
The footsteps, which had been sounding loudly, halted. Draco saw Lucius' whole body tense, as a knock came at the door against which he leant. "I know you're in there, Lucius. Stop this ridiculous little game, and come out here right now," a voice bellowed; he recognised it as his Grandfather's. Lucius didn't answer, perhaps hoping to fool the man on the other side of the door into believing that there was no one in the room.
"I shall count to three, and then I will blast this door down, regardless of whether or not you are standing behind it." Lucius abruptly stepped away from the door, and fell down on his knees next to Draco's Grandmother. He threw his arms around her, and placed himself between her and the door. Draco listened out for the numbers to be counted, but there was silence...at least, until...
"Three!" the door exploded inwards, sending deadly showers of splinters and nails from the hinges flying into the room. Draco blanched as these sharp objects pounded into his father's back, sending small showers of blood flying with each new impact. Lucius didn't flinch, and only tightened his grip on his mother as the torrent of shrapnel finally ceased, and Lance stepped into the room.
Dust clung to Lucius' hair, and he turned his head to the side, a snarl on his face. "You didn't even have the decency to die properly, did you?" He stood up, ensuring to keep himself between his mother and danger as he did so. Lance just glowered, sending a globule of spittle flying through the air to land at his son's feet. Then, he dropped a small body onto the floor – it rolled over when he kicked it, and came to rest a foot before Lucius.
It was a house-elf, face frozen by rigor mortis into a horrific grimace. "Poison, Lucius? Could you perhaps be anymore predictable?" He chuckled darkly. "Accio knife," the knife flew from Lucius' hand and into Lance's outstretched one. "Tsk, tsk Lucius, you could have hurt someone with something like this," he let the metal fall to the floor.
"That was the intention," Lucius answered through gritted teeth.
"Well, that's not very pleasant of you, is it now?" Lance said, employing a sing-song voice as he approached the two members of his family, wand bared. "Adriana, what did I tell you? The boy needs discipline, and yet you keep letting him run off to do what he likes. Now, that's not what I'd call good parenting skills...not at all!" He threw a sloppy punch at Lucius, who ducked it and returned with one of his own – magic was forgotten for a few seconds as he fought vainly to stop his father hurting his mother again.
He had forgotten, of course, that his father was a lot stronger than he was. Draco's knuckles where white in the edge of his field of vision, as he tensely watched the drama in front of him. Lance managed to finally get Lucius out of the way with a perfectly-aimed chop to the wind-pipe, which made the blond collapse to the floor, gagging.
His Grandmother looked up, her blue eyes wide with terror – she tried to scuffle backwards, but leant too heavily on her injured arm, which caused her to slump onto the floor. Lance kicked her hard in the stomach, and she curled up on herself. Lucius was trying to get up and crawl over, but the blow to his throat had been enough to seriously hinder his breathing, and Draco could see that he was struggling to just stay awake. His wand had flown from his hands as he fell, and was no nowhere to be seen.
"I believe, that I warned you before," Lance growled, now crouching down, and grabbing the blonde woman by the throat. "Adriana...such a lovely wife you would have been – if only you had known how to do what you were told." She struggled weakly in his grasp, he good arm latching onto the one that pincered her throat, and trying to pull it away. Draco's Grandfather chuckled again, and then pointed his wand to the side of her head, much like 'the bad guy' in a muggle movie would point a gun.
"Father," Lucius wheezed, drawing Lance's attention. He floundered a little in his crawl towards his parents, having to crawl the last few feet on his belly. Lance watched him with eyebrows raised. "I – I'm sorry...whatever it was... Punish me. Not her," this speech took what little strength Lucius had left, and his head lolled onto the floor, eyes barely open. Lance just shook his head, and returned his full attention to Adriana.
"Well, my dear, this looks like good-bye." Draco shook his head, and felt a scream bubble up in his throat. No, he can't – this can't be right, it has to be a trick, I-
"Avada Kedavra." There was a flash of green light, and then everything went black.
"NO!" Draco screeched, flinging himself backwards so violently that he succeeded in tipping the sofa over, and landed with a heavy thump onto the carpeted floor behind. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was that light, that horrible, bright green intense light. Just like Potter sees, just like Potter... Nonononononono!
Lucius jumped up from Severus' lap, Severus following closely behind him. They both cannoned into the lounge, and found Draco lying curled up on the floor, shuddering, looking at the carpet and mumbling to himself. "Nononononono, just like Potter, the light, oh God, and the noise!" Severus panicked, and reached out to check on his student – Lucius grabbed his hand.
"Leave him. Give it a minute, all right?"
"But-"
"Trust me," Lucius barked, once again holding command. Both of the men sat crossed-legged on the carpet, looking at the shivering teen. Slowly, he stopped shaking, and the mumbling ceased altogether. Severus tilted his head a little as Draco opened his eyes, looking about as helpless as a newborn kitten. "Draco?"
"Father?" the boy rasped, looking up at Lucius. Then, to both of their surprise, the boy launched himself at his father, wrapping his arms around his neck and making them both topple backwards onto the floor. Gingerly, Lucius returned the impassioned embrace, patting Draco gently on the back and looking at Severus helplessly. Severus just shook his head, and stood up, moving away from the touching family moment, and picking up the penseive in order to put it away.
Lucius wasn't sure what to do, too shocked by this reaction to do anything but lie there. So, when Draco's grip loosed, he just looked up quizzically at his son. Draco returned the look, unashamedly meeting his eye. Within the grey pools, Lucius could see the beginnings of understanding, and felt his worries begin to dissipate. As long as he can start to understand, then the rest should be all right...
H shuffled slightly, trying to hint without saying anything that Draco should perhaps move. The hint wasn't taken, and he opened his mouth to suggest the right course of action would be to let him up, when Draco dipped his head back down, and timidly crushed his lips against Lucius' open ones. It was obvious that he'd never kissed (or been kissed before), and Lucius tightened his hold on Draco, returning the kiss with a tender, gentle one of his own.
There...now, isn't this better?
What? NO! Lucius released his hands from Draco's back, and then pushed the boy away altogether, jumping to his feet and fleeing his chambers altogether. Draco lay dazed on the floor, and started when the door slammed shut behind Lucius.
"Dad?"
Aha! New reviewer! Woot! [Laughs] Sorry...I get excited easily. Dirty dancer, your thoughts aren't strange at all – in fact, that's a really interesting way to think about the penseives! (I'm not really sure which one it would be either... But, in Lucius' case, it would probably be heavy because it'd be made out of something precious, and would also be full of so many memories, considering what he's been through!) [Pats Lucius on the head.] I'm so mean.
Again, a big thanks to everybody whose reviewed. I can't quite convey how much it means to me that people take the time to even read my stuff, so when people review, it's just – wowish.
With regards – Soda
PS: Much Severus/Lucius fluff. I couldn't resist...sorry...
PPS: [Pokes Draco] Adorable little virgin. Aww!
