All the poems in this fanfiction belong to Lady Fiona.

Start.

This is a Burden - so to live:

In complete darkness without a ray of happiness.

This is a Burden - so to love

Without Answer, without Force, without Power ...

The doorknob fell to the base, and the antique carved door slowly opened. A thin teenager appeared on the threshold of the library.

"Did you call me, father?" asked the young man from the doorway.

He spoke a little tiredly, as if he was deliberately typing words, but fear flashed in his gaze, riveted to the man sitting at the huge writing table. An attentive observer who spent many days with this truly unusual family could notice that it was this expression that most often lurked in the eyes of his son, since he had the opportunity to communicate with his father.

"Of course! You kept me waiting," the forty-year-old representative of the oldest and richest magical family said with barely concealed irritation.

"The servants just informed me," the young man lied without batting an eye.

"They will be punished," he announced the verdict," I think you understand why I called you, Lucius?"

"Why not guess! If I could, I wouldn't go at all," the thought of undeservedly punishing the servants did not arouse any emotion. Lucius indifferently perceived everything that did not concern himself or the person sitting opposite. He respected his father, practically idolized him, and everything Edwin Malfoy did seemed right and in nothing, the mother, exiled to the Malfoy summer estate ... When was that? It seems about eight years ago. Exactly! Well, she definitely deserved it. A woman should not interfere in the affairs of a real man.

Father Lucius was considered a real man. Edwin easily made decisions for everyone around him and demanded the unconditional execution of his will. No one dared to argue with him, otherwise there would have been an immediate and severe punishment. What is the unforgivable spell of the cross, Lucius has come a long way at the age of eight. Then he angered his father by staining his new jacket, especially for an important reception, in pursuit of the puppy. The boy remembered that day for the rest of his life: the pain that seemed to break all the cells melted all the bones. But, surprisingly, he didn't blame his father. He took what he deserved. Most of all then he was afraid of disappointment in the eyes of Edwin.

Since then, Lucius's biggest nightmare has been the very thought that he might disappoint his father, once again see the shadow of irritation in his eyes. Therefore, since the age of eight, the whole being of Lucius Malfoy lived with one thought - to please his father. Praise was seldom followed. Edwin was stingy with his emotions. Even his rage was refined and graceful. Often, trying to anticipate his father's thoughts, Lucius did not do what was expected of him. This was followed by a punishment: irritation in gray eyes and a quiet calm: "Crucio." Lucius hated pain, and in his entire life he had never learned to endure it, which seemed to anger his father even more.

So as he entered the library today, Malfoy Jr. knew that punishment was inevitable, and yet he dared to incur his father's wrath by delaying his appearance here. Lucius had a very good reason for this. The fact is that three days ago, Lucius Edgar Malfoy celebrated his seventeenth birthday. Entering this age for a Malfoy man was considered a special step. On this day, a teenager acquired a completely different status, moving from the rank of a young offspring to the rank of an adult man. From that day on, the young man inherited a part of the ancestral lands and a certain amount of money, insignificant, however, in comparison with the rest of the state, but sufficient to cause a deep swoon of his peers, if they find out about this quirk of the old kind. Everything, it would seem, is rosy and cloudless: unlimited spending, freedom and all the delights of youth that are now affordable. But there was one indispensable circumstance in addition to adult life. At seventeen, the heir to the surname and titles must be engaged. And, despite the freedom of choice in all other issues: what to wear, with whom to communicate, how to spend free time outside the home, the father had to announce the chosen one. The worst thing is that for Lucius the phrase of his father, once said, became a revelation. Edwin had many mistresses - exquisite, beautiful, brilliantly brought up. And Lucius somehow dared to ask:

"Why didn't you replace Priscilla with one of these amazing women?"

The boy did not doubt that they were amazing - after all, Edwin himself chose them. To which he received an answer that shocked him to the core: "Malfoys don't get divorced. This rule is!"

It was said so simply and calmly ...

The phrase stuck firmly in the boy's head. Therefore, he was afraid of this day and at the same time waited for it. What if your deepest dream comes true? After all, the future Mrs. Malfoy must be from a respectable family and have extraordinary beauty. This was Priscilla, his mother. Light red hair, delicate features and an impenetrable look, once, perhaps, lively and cheerful, and now lifeless and tired eyes. Lucius inherited nothing of his mother's appearance. He inherited Edwin Malfoy's surprisingly blond hair and gray eyes. And the bright and lively beauty of Priscilla passed to Marisa, the younger sister of Lucius. Except, perhaps, for the color of the eyes. They were not blue, but gray, like my father's. Remembering his sister, Lucius even for a moment was distracted from what awaited him now.

Marisa was an unusual creature. Time has not yet deprived her of the sparkle of her eyes and the joy of life. She was still a long way from coming of age, and she didn't have to worry about what kind of family a bad fate named Edwin Malfoy would send her to. Marisa had everything that was not in Lucius himself. Not a day passed that he did not think about his younger sister, because there was not a person on earth that Lucius so ... hated. He still remembered the day when he, a six-year-old boy, roared with fear in his room when he learned that Priscilla was expecting a baby. After all, this meant that the father could have new hope and support. What if he turns his back on his eldest son?!

These few months have become a nightmare for the poor boy. The father was rarely at home in those days, and it seemed to Lucius that it was the fault of the unborn child who pushed the father away from him. Lucius hated no one else as much as this infant, who had not yet been born, and, perhaps, Priscilla, who walked around the castle with the soft smile of a woman who became aware of the mystery of motherhood. How many times has Lucius dreamed of her stumbling on a wide stone staircase ...

But time passed, and nothing of what Lucius dreamed of happened. In due time, Marisa was born. Upon learning that this was the daughter, Edwin did not even go to look at the child. And two years later, he sent Marisa together with Priscilla to another estate. Lucius perked up a bit, but since then his father has somehow grown cold towards him. Although, rather, such thoughts were the result of Lucius's imagination, but the boy did not leave the thought that his father really hoped for the birth of his second son, which means that the first was something he did not like. Children are cruel. And, being a spoiled child, Lucius preferred to blame his sister as the culprit for all his failures.

And now the day has come when the father will announce his choice. On his son's birthday, he was not at home. But that's okay, right? He must have been busy. With the advent of the Dark Lord, the father was now always busy. About who the Dark Lord was, and where he came from, Lucius had a very distant idea, but he carried out all his orders, transmitted through his father, regularly.

How scary it is to hear the name from the mouth of the father and to know that nothing can be changed. Although, what is he thinking! Why should he want to change something? After all, the father will undoubtedly choose the best for him.

"Your engagement will take place at Christmas, Lucius… Let me warn you right away: it will be a magnificent celebration. All the right people in our community will be there," Edwin began.

"Can I invite some of your friends, father?" Lucius hoped his voice was level.

Edwin's silvery eyebrow arched in question. For the first time in seventeen years, the son dared to interrupt him.

"I'm sorry Father," Lucius added hastily, interpreting his gesture correctly.

"I'll assume it's from excitement, although the Malfoys don't show their emotions. You make me sad," Edwin said calmly.

"Sorry," Lucius lowered his head, trying to hide the expression in his eyes. Why does he never raise his voice? It would be so ... human and less scary.

"Aren't you curious to know the name of your future wife?" The father asked with a grin.

Lucius was silent. Deciding to end the game, Edwin said quietly:

"Narcissa Black,"

A picture immediately appeared in front of Lucius's eyes.

Laughing girl stands on the shore of the lake. The sun reflects off her delicate chocolate hair. Her amazing eyes, the color of spring foliage, look at him.

What was she laughing about then? Lucius didn't remember. For that matter, he couldn't even remember with certainty what she was wearing that day. Only these eyes ...

"You have eyes the color of an autumn morning," her voice rings like crystal, merging with the splash of waves that roll right at their feet. At these words, she smiles, and a charming dimple appears on her left cheek.

"And you have eyes the color of Hope," he replied. The answer clearly surprised and delighted her.

"Then let me be your Hope. If it's hard, call, and I'll show up right there. After all, Nadezhda should always be there."

"Narcissa Black," his father said quietly.

The beauty of his future wife was legendary. More than one Hogwarts youth dreamed of those gray eyes and unusually blonde hair. Despite the fact that she was only fifteen, Narcissa was spinning the boys' heads right and left. But Lucius Malfoy was not among her admirers.

"When you digest this thought, find me. We need to discuss all the details of the ceremony."

With these words Edwin went out, rounding the motionless son along the way. But Lucius did not notice this tactfulness of his father, shown towards him for the first time. On another occasion, he would probably have died from the knowledge that his father reckons with his feelings and thoughts. But not right now.

Narcissa Black. From the sounds of this name, something trembled and torn in the soul. With surprise, Lucius realized that the thread to her, his Hope had been cut. The huge room immediately became somehow empty and quiet.

The only thing that broke this dead silence was the crackling of wood in the fireplace.