Stacked Deck of Cards

This is just a oneshot that was inspired by a line in the song Rubber Traits, written by the band Why? I have chosen lines from this song that inspire me and I will write a short story about each of those lines. Each story will be it's own oneshot with the initial quote at the top of the page.

If one looked carefully, one could see a huddled figure against the back wall of the grimy cell. On the rare occasions that the figure would shift, a soft glimmer of gold would flash through the bars. Such an opulent color was thoroughly out of place with its dark surroundings; a hint of a world that was miles and years away.

The Minister of Magic, Ruphus Scrimgeour, looked thorough the bars at the formerly affluent wizard and snorted in disgust. What a fool he had been to respect him. With one last glance at the crouched man, he turned and moved off to inspect the rest of Azkaban, a sneer still in place on his lips.

The ragged wizard raised his head and this time it was his eyes that flashed metallically. He watched the retreating back of the newly appointed Minister of Magic with a curious feeling of impassiveness. No stirrings of hate, no desire for revenge…just emptiness.

He wasn't sure how long he had been here -- he wasn't sure of much anymore. The marks on the wall stopped after four. He couldn't even summon the will to wonder if it really had only been four days or if he had just lost the desire to count. He slumped back down when Scrimgeour's footsteps could no longer be heard and fell into a sleep-like state.

A scraping at his door called him back to what he now called reality. Out of force of habit, he crawled over to the dish of rotten food that had been pushed through the bars of his cell. Only the best for murderers and traitors, he thought with unusual irony…

…His breath caught when she opened her door. Her teeth glinted whitely when she smiled up at him and twirled to show off her absolutely stunning dress.

"What do you think? Too much?" she asked, looking up at him through mascara coated eyelashes.

He breathed in and answered smoothly, "With you, my love, nothing could ever be too much." She smiled happily at him and laid her hand on his arm while they Apparated to the restaurant.

The food was superb, but the company infinitely better. When he got down on one knee beside the table, she burst into tears before he had time to say anything. He waited, a bit uncomfortable with both the unusual display of emotion from the woman sitting in front of him and with what he was about to ask. When she had given a breathless and embarrassed apology, he said, "My love, there is nothing more that I want then to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the very great honor of consenting to become my wife?"

He could see a smile beneath the tears that had resumed their path down her face. She nodded vigorously, but didn't get the chance to voice her affirmative before his lips were on hers. Their kiss was long and sweet and when he pulled back he could still taste her tears on his lips.

While he paid the bill, never once did they let go of the other's hand and neither did their smiles ever dim. They walked together over the lush carpet and out into the shocking cold of a moonless night. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders when he felt her shiver and with unspoken consent, they both crossed the street to an unlit park. In happy silence, the couple made their slow way around the dark park, simply enjoying the other's company. It wasn't until they had both taken seats on a bench, that he opened his mouth to speak. But it was his turn to be quieted by someone else's lips. Surprised by her uncharacteristic forwardness, he forgot completely about what he had been about to say.

Swiftly taking the lead in the kiss, he cupped the back of her neck with a hand and tilted her face up. The kiss deepened slowly and soon his hand had come away from her neck and began to explore what he could through the thick material of her coat.

"Let's go to my place," she breathed into his ear.

Surprised, he stopped his exploration to look at her. "But I thought you wanted to wait until we were married?"

"I changed my mind," she said, laughing slightly.

"Well then. There's no time like the present is there?" he asked huskily, and he picked her up in one fluid motion and Apparated them to her flat…

…He licked his lips, remembering the taste of her tears. That dinner had been a night full of light in a much too dark world. It wasn't much longer after their marriage that he had been enlisted. The guilt washed over him and sank him into another memory…

…Once again he was out in the middle of the night doing things he would rather not think overly much about.

The blonde man straightened up when he felt a sudden stab of anxiety hit his heart. She was due any day now. Was she alright? He pushed the feeling aside and concentrated on the job at hand. But as the night went on, his concern grew and grew until he was having trouble remembering what he was doing. Overwhelmed, he was about to Apparate to his home and see his wife, when a crack came at his shoulder. Someone had just Apparated behind him, and judging by the silence of his fellows, he was could guess who it was.

When he turned around, he found himself face to face with his master. "My lord, to what do we owe this honor?"

"You were about to leave," hissed the man called 'my lord.'

He blanched, but managed to say, "No, my lord, I would never, I wouldn't, I couldn't ever…"

"I do not believe you."

"My Lord, I am devoted to you, I would never leave a mission."

"You are still lying to me. It is that damned wife of yours isn't it?" he asked silkily, "You are worried about her condition and that is why you are going to leave the job."

"No, no my Lord. The woman means nothing to me."

"Liar."

"Sir, I tell you only the truth." He was fighting valiantly against the force that was pushing on his mental shields, but he could tell he would not last. With a last effort, he hid only one memory from his Lord, before his mind was broken open.

"Ah, so you do care about her. Why, you even love her! How sickening. Now, I can't have all of these emotions running rampant, much too distracting." With a casual wrench the man called 'Lord' took all feelings of love away from the blonde man. Just an offhand manipulation of the blonde man's thoughts and he was no longer able to feel anything resembling love.

When he fell in a heap on the wet cobblestoned street, there was no feeling in his limbs. The numbness in his heart had spread out to the rest of his body. As the other Death Eaters streamed past him, his slowly got up and marched with them, never once considering what his was about to do or what he had done.

He was out for three more days without a single thought about his wife and when he came home, he discovered he had a son. The only thing he said in response to this was, "Ah, good, at least he is male." And he turned and left for another meeting, never noticing the bewilderment on his wife's face that soon turned to tears…

…Sobs wracked the skeletal body of the jailed man, almost seeming to break him in half. With care, almost as if approaching a wild animal, he reached into his mind to retrieve that one memory that he had hidden from the most evil wizard of all time. With a burst, the memory engulfed him, the long caging served only to make the memory more potent now. It was as if he was really there, none of his other memories were nearly as clear…

…With a sob, his wife looked down on the image of her soon to be child. He almost gave a sob as well, but quickly gained control of himself. The thought that they had created such a perfect being was astounding. The baby was in such a position that they couldn't tell what gender it was, but that was alright with them. Tears still shining in her eyes, she looked up at her husband, who bent down and placed the softest of kisses on her lips…

…He had always been drawing the days of his life from a stacked deck of cards and no end in sight. But now, here was a tangible finish, and he welcomed it gratefully. With a barely audible whisper of "Narcissa," Lucius Malfoy slumped to the cold stone floor for the last time.

When the dementors came back from feeding on the death of some other prisoner, they were disappointed to find that one of their other charges had died as well. The two with the duty of guarding that particular cell hissed their displeasure at missing a potential meal.

Freedom. Not even a body to hold him down. He knew his son would face the same struggle that he had, he just hoped Draco would be strong enough to make a different choice. It was only a fleeting wisp of thought before he was gone forever. Perhaps the cards would be stacked differently for his son…

FIN