Lucius contemplates his lover, all he lost . . . and all he never knew.
I May Have Loved You
He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again. -Shakespeare
I may have loved him, but I never used the word. Not even with my own wife. If she said "I love you", I said "I return your affections."
But he . . . my Severus . . . he was so much different.
He could lift himself up off the ground after being volleyed with Unforgiveables and still maintain his poise. And after those meetings, always torturous . . .
After those meetings we would silent creep through my manor, find a room no one had entered except to clean, and threw all our instincts into the present . . . into the love we made.
He was so beautiful when he longed . . . and even more so when he abandoned the mask and let me see him . . . let me see him want.
He lay in my arms for a brief moment, before getting dressed and Apparating.
Yes, as I stated before, I may have loved him. But I didn't see him after that night.
Order members caught me before I could even join the Dark Lord when he called. Harry Potter killed both my master and my lover that night.
Malfoys do not mourn. They were black for a week out of respect for the dead. So now I must ask myself why, after six months, have I not worn another color?
Severus, I mourn thee. But did I love you? I'll never know.