Okay, so here we go with chapter 2! It will make x-Scarlett-x happy to know that there is plenty of Lucius in this chapter- and a bit of Draco too! (However, this is possibly the longest thing I have ever written…)
Disclaimers: If Harry Potter was owned by me, I doubt it would have sold even a third as many copies as it actually has…
Art of Riding- Chapter 2
Lucius massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers, counting slowly to one hundred under his breath in a futile attempt to keep his temper.
One, two, three, four…
So far, it didn't appear to be working- the pathetic grovelling cretin of a stable hand was still stuttering madly in front of him.
"Y-you see, Lord Malfoy, s-sir, i-it's just that, well…"
Five, six, seven, eight…
"…and so, well, I-I'm, well what I'm trying to say is…"
Nine, ten… Right, that's it!
"Finish that sentence in the next three seconds or start running," snarled Lucius, finally giving up all pretext at being civil. After all, it didn't suit him anyway- nobility weren't bred to be polite.
The skinny man gulped visibly, the whites around his eyes showing before he finally blurted out desperately, "Lord Malfoy, I won't be able to work for the next few weeks because my wife is ill at home and I have to take care of her and I apologise most sincerely but there's nothing else I can do and I apologise!"
Lucius blinked. Despite himself, he was actually quite impressed. The man hadn't paused for breath once during his entire garbled speech, which had been delivered at top speed. However, the fact remained that his Head Groom was upping and leaving with barely two days notice.
Needless to say, Lucius did not take this knowledge well.
The head of the Malfoy family took a slow, deep breath before opening his eyes and fixing his hapless employee with an icy glare.
"Might I enquire as to why you are only informing me of this now? When I have a student coming tomorrow and therefore have no available time in which to seek out a replacement?" Never mind the fact that my student is an underbred commoner who doesn't know one end of a horse from another…
His stable hand stammered for another few moments before Lucius reluctantly took pity on him, something he didn't ever do lightly. "Very well. I accept your brief absence; if you wish to receive financial support then I suggest you go and visit Mr. Pettigrew down in the accounts."
The man gasped in relief, his body sagging slightly as the terror and tension drained from him. "Oh, thank you my Lord, thank you!"
Lucius nodded curtly before turning and sweeping away, his black riding cloak swirling out behind him. Damn, I must be going soft!
As the blonde-haired man strode through the stables his mind drifted straight back to its favourite topic of the last few days; his new student and the phone call that had caused all this. This last week had seen Lucius tearing out his hair (metaphorically, of course- waist length blonde hair was not something to be treated lightly) and mentally running over the conversation with James Potter in his head, trying to pinpoint exactly when he had lost his mind and agreed to take on the son of his much loathed nemesis. By now he had come to the conclusion that the battle had been half lost the moment he had accepted the damn call in the first place.
"Lord Malfoy, there's a Mr James Potter on line one. Should I patch him through?"
Lucius looked up from his pile of paperwork to stare at the intercom his secretary's voice had just crackled through. James Potter? What in God's name was he calling for? The two of them had never been on civil speaking terms throughout their school careers, and this had simply continued when they had both left Hogwarts and gone on with their separate lives. They did occasionally see each other, at parent's evenings and from time to time in the Headmaster's Office as well. (Draco and the Potter brat didn't get along particularly well either; Lucius was tired of being dragged into school to hear about the latest scandal the two had caused. Though admittedly, he personally thought that throwing the Potter boy's clothes out of the second storey window was inspired. It would teach the staff of Hogwarts not to put the two rival football teams in the same changing rooms again, at any rate.)
"Lord Malfoy?"
Lucius shook his head briskly (a show of absent-mindedness he would never allow in public) and pushed down on the speaker button.
"Yes, Belinda, put him through."
He ignored the disgruntled "My name is Bertha, Bertha Jorkins" that filtered through the intercom speakers as he picked up the phone and held it to his ear. Despite himself, he was intrigued as to why the motorcycle riding prat wanted to speak to him. As far as he knew, there hadn't been any more disputes between Draco and the Potter brat since the Squirrel Incident of last month, so the call couldn't be about them.
"Hello? Malfoy, you there?"
"Yes, Potter, I'm here. You had better have a good reason for disturbing my work." Lucius' voice betrayed none of his curiosity or emotions; it was as smooth and cold as ice.
"Yeah, whatever Malfoy. Look, I, er… I'm… look, let me just make this perfectly clear. I'm phoning because Lily wants me to, alright? If I had my way, I wouldn't be talking to you at all, you smug blonde pillock."
"Goodbye Potter."
"Wait, wait, no! I didn't mean that, sorry, I take it back. God, I so don't wanna do this…"
The last part of his sentence trailed off into a soft whine, and Lucius raised an eyebrow at the receiver, before casually crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in his chair. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this conversation.
On the other end of the line, he heard James let out a gust of breath before resuming his speech, his tone a little more determined.
"Right, Malfoy, let me just lay it out for you, okay? My son Harry is aspiring to become a professional motorcycle rider" and even through the phone Lucius could hear the pride in the man's voice, "and Lily has decided -OW, ow, okay!- WE have decided that before he can do this, he has to take horse riding lessons. You know, to improve balance and all that malarkey. Point is, for that he's going to need a teacher, and so Lily- no dear, I'm sorry, it is your idea, I've got nothing to do with this one- thought of you. Basically, we're asking you if you'd agree to become Harry's teacher. -Lily, I swear if you pinch me one more time..!-"
Lucius stared at the phone he was holding in his hand, which was now emitting the faint strains of angry bickering. His first, slightly irrational reaction was "Thank God I don't have that problem any more…" (He and Narcissa had been divorced for almost three years now, though they were still on fairly amiable terms.) His second, much more pressing reaction was "WHAT THE HELL?!"
Not in his wildest dreams would he have seen this coming. Certainly, he had a whole stable-full of horses out back, but they were for competing and profit only. The only person he had ever taught to ride was his own son Draco, and even then he had bought a horse specially. He himself owned several horses for personal riding, and none of them were particularly suitable for complete beginners. So why on earth…?
Lucius suddenly became aware that Potter was speaking again and he hastily started to listen again.
"…and so the reason she'd like you to teach him is because she claims that you're the most talented and able rider she could think of, and she knows you can teach because she's seen your bra- er, son, ride. So, what do you say?"
Mind still temporarily out of use from shock, Lucius said the first thing that came to his lips: "Where's your wife suddenly gone?" (He hadn't heard a single protest from her, despite the manner in which James was speaking and referring to her.)
"I locked her in the cupboard," came the smug reply from the other end of the line. "Now, are you up for it or not?"
Lucius frowned. "Exactly why would I agree to teach your hell-spawn, Potter? I'm sure you realise I have much better things that I can do with my time, so why would I give it up for ungrateful commoners like you and your family?"
"We'd pay you, of course. Geez, Malfoy, I'm not that stupid! I know you're a cruel heartless bastard- I'm not stupid enough to think you'd do it out of the goodness of your heart. If you even have one, that is."
Lucius bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making an acidic comment on James' intelligence, and instead spoke frostily down the phone.
"Potter, are you aware that I am a multi-millionaire, and therefore I do not have any need for your money?" There, he thought smugly, that'd do it.
"Yeah, I thought about that one too, so I have a back-up offer!" rang out the too-cheerful reply down the phone. Crap. Maybe not.
"If you teach my son how to ride," James continued brightly, " thus potentially saving his life and also getting my demented hell-beast of a wife off my back, then I promise to make sure that not only will Sirius no longer graffiti your front door every week, but also that you will no longer receive hate-mail. AND, I'll make him give you back all of your garden gnomes. How's that?"
Lucius sat, phone pressed to his ear and mouth slightly open as he stared ahead unseeingly at the walls of his office. That was…tempting. Very tempting. To be honest, that was actually one of the few things that could have actually swayed him. He was sick and tired of having "Lucius Malfoy has a pimp cane!" scrubbed off his front door, and the hate-mail cluttered up his letterbox. Not to mention the fact that those garden gnomes were expensive, damnit!
The blonde man sighed heavily, finger tips pressing against his temples again. Damnit, he was going to have to say yes, wasn't he… This is going to be a pain in the arse, he thought sourly. Unfortunately, it couldn't be helped.
"Very well, Potter, I will give your son riding lessons. However-" and here Lucius had to raise his voice to be heard over the whoops of delight echoing down the line, "believe me when I say it will be done to my schedule, and I expect him to be the very model of obedience. Otherwise, the whole deal is off. Do we have an agreement?"
"Damn right we do!" came the jubilant reply. "Right, I'll call later and make arrangements for payment and the date of the first lesson and whatnot; but right now I'd better phone Siri and let Lily out of the downstairs cupboard. Cheers Malfoy! Speak to you later!"
The phone beeped once before the hum of the dialling tone sounded in Lucius' ear. Carefully, he replaced the receiver back in it's cradle, and then sat and stared at it for a while- before dropping his head into his hands with a long moan.
What in God's name had just happened…?
Yep. Half-lost, if not entirely lost. But really, who could have turned down the prizes the Potter Prat was offering? After all, his door had been clean for a whole week now, and he had woken up the other morning to the scream of a maid finding a tribe of garden gnomes on the front door step. So, as unappealing and loathsome as his future task would be, Lucius had to admit that it did have its benefits.
However, Draco didn't seem to agree.
"Father!"
Lucius nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout, and tried to disguise the undignified movement as a jaunty spin round. It made him look like a flamboyantly gay ballerina, but he decided to ignore that for now, in favour of his only child striding across the open stable yard towards him with a determined expression on his face.
"Father," Draco began as soon as he reached the older man's side, "I just spoke to the stable hand- who is a snivelling idiot, by the way- and he informed me that you are still planning on teaching Potter how to ride. Is this true?"
Lucius resisted the urge to wail out loud at how cruel his life was, and instead fixed his offspring with a steady gaze, gently tapping his silver-topped cane against the ground.
"Yes, Draco, that is correct. If you will recall, when I spoke to you about this last week, I made my intentions very clear. The Potter boy is to be educated here, starting tomorrow, and his lessons should occur about twice a week. You already knew of this, so why do you sound as though this has come as a surprise?"
Draco flushed slightly, having the grace to look slightly embarrassed before schooling his face to a neutral expression. Inwardly, his father smiled proudly- Draco was a credit to the Malfoy family name. He was as shrewd, intelligent and as cunning as all his ancestors before him, as well as being an exceptional young rider. Lucius took pride in the fact that his son would be more than capable of taking over from him when the time came. It also didn't hurt that his son had inherited the classic Malfoy looks as well; white-blonde hair, pale complexion and sharp grey eyes. The young Malfoy heir turned heads wherever he went (a fact he knew and took full advantage of.) Yes, his father mused, he was very proud of Draco.
The teenager, who was unaware of his father's silent musings, was protesting again. "But Father, I can't believe you're serious! Does he really need to come here to be taught? I'm sure there's a perfectly good swamp nearby that you can dump him in…" He trailed off as he wistfully pictured this in his mind. Ah, swamp-covered Potter…
Lucius shook his head, knowing full and well what was going through his son's head (and secretly approving.) However, he stared sternly at his son as he said coldly, "Draco, please do not speak in that manner when the Potter boy is actually here. I will not have my name sullied because of some childish vendetta you harbour, do you understand?"
By this point Draco's usually pale face was crimson from his father's rebuke, and his voice shook slightly with anger as he replied quietly, "I understand, Father."
Lucius nodded, keeping his face impassive. "Very good. Keep yourself above such petty grievances and you will do both me and you proud."
Ignoring the way his son's head snapped up, his face a mask of surprise, he turned on his heel and continued briskly on his way towards his mansion. As he walked, he breathed in deeply, and allowed the scent of hay and earth to soothe him. He always found the stables one of the most calming place on earth for him to be, oddly enough. The soft whinnying of the horses and their distinctive smell washed over him, and he slowed his step without consciously realising it, gazing around him.
The stables were enormous, set out around an open yard, beyond which were several tens of acres of private land owned by the Malfoy family, and were used to take the horses out. The horses paddock was built on this land, and easily held the thirty horses currently in Lucius' possession (not including the three he used for private riding.) The stables were a ten-minute walk from the huge country mansion he and Draco lived in, along with a selection of servants, and it was in this mansion that Lucius had his study and kept his work. Ha, like he'd really go away to work!
This was Lucius' home, the home he had grown up in- and tomorrow, the home that Harry Potter would be entering for his very first riding lesson.
This could not go well.
Harry stared out the car window, shifting uncomfortably on the seat and trying to swallow the lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his throat. Words couldn't express how much he didn't want to be here- but by God, he was going to try!
"Dad-", he began, but Lily cut him off before he could get any further.
"No, darling, it's too late. We're going to be there any minute now, so it's no use complaining. In any case, we've bought you riding clothes, and you look splendid!"
Harry glared at his mother through the rear-view mirror. "Mum, I look like an absolute tosspot. A tosspot with a hard hat. Why do you hate me?"
Lily tutted (a habit she'd picked up off of Hermione) and elbowed her shaking husband in the ribs, causing the whole car to swerve dangerously. "Harry, if it helps, then think of it as a uniform. You wear racing leathers, don't you? What's so different about them and this, er, uniform?"
James stopped laughing silently and sat up straight, an affronted expression on his face as he gripped the steering wheel. "Okay, for one thing, racing leathers are cool, got it? And for another, they don't make you look like you've just skipped out of a Victorian novel!"
"No," snapped Lily waspishly, "They just make you look like a greasy thug! Or maybe it's just the way you wear them…"
Harry sighed as his father spluttered incoherently. Lily had been tetchy since this morning, when they had received an impromptu visit from Sirius and Remus. As much as she loved the two of them, being woken at seven in the morning on a Saturday by "HARRY! GET DOWN HERE, I WANT TO SEE YOU ON YOUR LAST DAY OF LIFE!" was not the way to get on her good side.
Harry had to stifle a grin at the memory of his mother storming down the stairs in a nightgown and armed with a hairbrush, hell-bent on beating the living day-lights out of his godfather and his partner. It had taken some fast talking from both Harry and Remus (Sirius had cowered behind his lover whilst James howled with laughter in the background) to convince Lily to leave the motorcyclist in one piece.
The image lightened Harry's feelings for a moment, before the sinking, dreading feeling slowly made its return back into the pit of his stomach. God, he so didn't want to be here right now. He shifted again, the stiff material of his new jodhpurs rubbing uncomfortably against his thighs as he changed his position. They were part of his new riding outfit; black jodhpurs, a dark green shirt ("It matches your eyes, Harry!"), black knee-length leather riding boots (why his leather racing boots wouldn't do, he couldn't understand) and a dark jacket. And, of course, the hard-hat.
Great, Harry thought darkly. Not only do I get to make a fool out of myself in front of Malfoy and his dad, but I also get to do it dressed like a complete pansy. Terrific.
The jet-haired teen slumped back against the car seat, staring miserably out of the window again at the blurred green scenery racing by. Hermione and Ron had both phoned that morning to anxiously wish him luck, Ron assuring him that if Malfoy gave him any hassle then the two of them could sort him out at school on Monday. This had made him feel slightly better, as had Sirius' hard hug, and muttering what he would do to the older Malfoy "if he so much as looks at my godson the wrong way." Remus had smiled gently and murmured soothingly in his ear, "Harry, no matter how badly the lesson goes, remember that it's not forever- and you'll appreciate it when you're a world famous racer." In short, all of Harry's friends and family had shown their support for him as much as possible, in order to try and help him through this… experience. And dear Lord, he needed all the support he could get.
"Harry, we're almost here now, okay?" Lily's voice, slightly tinged with concern, filtered through Harry's churning thoughts. He glanced up to see his mother peering round the car seat at him, a worried expression on her face. His father, uncharacteristically quiet, was sneaking glances at him through the rear-view mirror, a frown furrowing his brow. Harry quickly forced a small smile to his face, and attempted to look more normal.
"N-no, it's fine, I was just thinking about the lesson, that's all… and you know I don't really like cars anyway."
This wasn't entirely a lie; even as the words left his mouth he felt the familiar tightening of his stomach, and his skin was unusually clammy. Lily's face softened as she stretched her arm through the gap in the front seats to smooth back Harry's hair comfortingly.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's alright, we're about to pull up anyway."
With a final loving touch to his face (and a motherly straightening of his crooked glasses), Lily retracted her arm and settled back in her seat. James pulled a face at Harry in the mirror, startling a grin out of his sombre son, as the car smoothly rounded a corner and purred up the long, sweeping driveway that led to the enormous Malfoy mansion. And standing at the top of the driveway, near the front door…
Harry's stomach lurched unpleasantly as he caught sight of white-blonde hair. Crap…
James pulled up with a slight jerk, settling beside a shiny black convertible that Harry knew belonged to Draco. (A small voice squealed inside Harry, "Key it! Key it!")
His father then turned in his seat to smile at his only son. "Ready, Snitch?"
Harry smiled slightly at the affectionate nickname, before swallowing hard and nodding sharply. "Ready, Dad."
Reaching across the seat to grab his much-hated hard hat, Harry turned to the car door and set his jaw. Let's go Harry- time to see what you're made of.
He reached out and pushed open the car door.
Mwahahaha! Yes, that is where I choose to end it, sorry! But I can promise you all that there will be a lot of Harry and Lucius interaction next chapter, and the first riding lesson!
Thank you to all those who added me on story alert and such as the like- but this time, please leave a review! I live for them… Haha! But yeah, if you managed to make it this far, then please leave a review- con. crit. welcomed, flames forwarded to my friends for a laugh.
See you all next time!
RinkyPink over and out.