Word Count: 355

Warning: I mean… It's one-sided LuciusPeacock. That should be enough warning?


They're fighting again. It seems like they're always fighting these days. Lucius tries so desperately to remember a time when there was peace in their home.

"I do love you," Lucius says, cutting across Naricssa before it can get too bad. "I just… need space."

She doesn't like that. As he walks away, he hears her scream and cry, and from the nursery, Draco's wails join the cacophony of noise. Lucius covers his ears and keeps walking. He never should have gotten married. This whole domestic life and being a husband and father is too much.

He grabs a loaf of bread from the kitchen and keeps walking. He knows exactly what he needs and who he needs to see.

Virgip is beautiful. Her white feathers look radiant in the sunlight, and Lucius smiles.

"Hello, beautiful," he says.

Narcissa doesn't like him. She says Virgil is aloof, but that isn't quite true. Virgil needs to be loved a certain way, and only Lucius has figured that way out.

"I brought you a treat," he says, crumbling the bread onto the ground.

The peacock makes a happy noise, his feather extending. He really is beautiful; Lucius can't seem to look away.

He reaches out, touching those feathers. It's perfect. Clear skies, warm sunshine, and beautiful serenity, if only for such a fleeting moment.

"You love that peacock more than you love me," Narcissa says, acidic accusation dripping from each syllable.

"Don't be silly, darling," he says.

But she's right, isn't she? He doesn't look at Virgil the way he looks at Narcissa. There is no sexual desire there. No, his love for Virgil is more pure. It is a true love, one that Narcissa could never understand.

"I think we should get rid of him," Narcissa says. "He is far too aggressive, and Draco will be walking soon."

"Then keep an eye on Draco," Lucius snaps. "Virgil stays."

Virgil struts across the lawn, basking in the sunshine. Lucius watches from the shade of a willow tree.

Virgil is good and graceful and loving. If only Narcissa could be more like his feathered companion.