narcissus_snake (narcissus_snake) wrote in luciusfqf, @ 2008-02-17 02:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | fiction: lucius, gen |
fic: the muggles are coming #2
Title: The Muggles are Coming #2
Author: Narcissus
Rating: PG13
Pairing: DM/NL, implied NL/JF-F, other pairings imminent
Summary: The Wizarding World is threatened; Lucius has some important discussions to make.
Warnings: WIP
Prompt: The Muggles are coming.
The Muggles are Coming
Lucius caught sight of his reflection in a window and paused to look at the person staring back at him – the glamour was good; so good that it had even taken Narcissa a time to realise it was him. He had been in the prison complex for almost a week now and still seen no sign of Draco. Turning away from the derelict shop front, he made his way down the alley, taking care to avoid the murky puddles.
At the end of the passage he saw the swinging sign for the Carn Towan, the place he’d agreed to meet with Horrell. Mark had been a business associate of his for many years, before all this had started, and Lucius felt that if anyone knew where Draco was, it would be him.
The tavern was dark and hot, the fire in the corner creating the only light. Mark was standing at the bar, talking quietly with the barman; Lucius stepped up beside him and introduced himself as Daven Pennac. The wards of caution went up immediately, nobody trusted anyone here; too many people had been betrayed by family and friends trying to get themselves ahead; better rations, better living conditions.
“I’m looking for Draco Malfoy.” He stated simply, getting straight to the point.
Horrell put down his drink, and glanced at the barman before turning to face him.
“According to my reports, Mr. Pennac,” he paused, “you don’t exist. According to my reports, you were never captured, and never tagged.”
Lucius made no response at first, then he said: “Do you know where Draco Malfoy is, or not?”
They held each others gaze for an endless moment, both unyielding. It was Mark who eventually broke the silence: “Only one person would come in here, of their own freewill, looking for Draco Malfoy; I think you’re out of your mind.”
Lucius’ lip quivered in a half smile: “You’re probably right.”
“You’ll find it a darn sight harder getting out again.”
Lucius nodded: “My son, Mark?”
Horrell ordered two drinks and motioned for Lucius to take a seat at a nearby table.
“Okay, there is only one person who came in within the last month, matching Draco’s age and physical build.” He watched as Horrell took out a piece of parchment and scribbled a name and address on the underside. Lucius concealed it safely in his inner pocket, before reaching for his drink.
“I appreciate this, Mark.”
“I’m sure you do, Daven.”
~*~
He made his way to the address written on the crumpled parchment, careful not to draw unwanted attention. He kept his expression blank, and his eyes focused on the ground in front of him, stepping quickly passed the slow moving people; his hair was already wet from the sudden downpour. Ducking into the doorway of the five-storey building, he checked the name against the one in his hand, and then pushed his way through the door.
The lobby was drab and gloomy, reminding him of times past and forgotten. The apartment he was looking for was on the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time, only slightly out of breath when he reached the top. There were voices nearby, and he was sure that one was Draco’s.
Reaching the correct door, he carefully removed his wand from his sleeve and knocked. The conversation died so suddenly he wasn’t sure it had ever actually been there; for a moment there was nothing and then he heard light footsteps moved towards him, down the corridor.
The door opened a fraction, and a single brown eye peered out at him: “Who are you, what do you want?”
Again the wards of caution and fear were impossible to miss.
“I’m looking for Draco Malfoy, is he here?” Lucius said quietly, not wanting anyone else to overhear him.
“No, I don’t know anyone by that name – he’s not here.” The boy was very obviously lying. “Perhaps, if you try upstairs…?”
And he attempted to close the door in Lucius’ face.
Lucius hadn’t meant to react with such speed or force but he wasn’t going to be shut out; the door crashed open at his thrust and young man fell back, banging his head painfully off the wall behind; before he could try and close the door again, Lucius stepped inside, staring down the darkened corridor towards the lighted room at the end.
“Where is he?”
The boy squared up to him, intent that he wasn’t going to pass: “Just go!” he ordered, but the quiver in his voice and the blood on his hand from the wound on his head, defeated him. “Haven’t you done enough already…?”
The dread Lucius had managed to keep at bay, suddenly washed over him and he pushed the boy out of the way, striding purposefully down the corridor. The living room was sparse, a fireplace, a small side table with a vase of dying flowers, a sofa with his son lying upon it, looking as if he’d beaten to within an inch of his life.
Draco’s left eye was swollen almost entirely shut, and he clutched at his ribs as if they were causing him pain. He coughed; a cough that turned into a fit and soon he was gasping for breath; the boy ran passed him, reached for the glass of water on the side table and brought it carefully to Draco’s lips, supporting his head as he drank.
“Thank you, Neville.” Draco wheezed, as his breathing calmed down and he settled back into the cushions, looking once again at Lucius: “Who are you and what do you want with me?”
Lucius took at step forward: “Draco, who did this to you?”
The instant he spoke, Draco recognized his voice; he could see it in the gray eyes that so mirrored his own.
“Father…?”
The boy who had been standing at Draco’s side, turned to look at him and the tension that had been holding his shoulders rigid, suddenly disappeared.
“It’s okay, Draco; I’m here now.”
~*~
“It was awful, they just set into him.” Neville spoke quietly, his eyes fixed on the kitchen table in front of him. “There was nothing I could do.”
Draco had eventually fallen asleep, reassured that he wasn’t going anywhere, and Lucius had retired to the other room with the young man who seemed so familiar with his son.
“Why?” he asked after a moments thought. “What did Draco do?”
“What does Draco ever do?” Neville replied with a small private smile. “He wouldn’t let them walk all over him, he wouldn’t let them put him down; it wasn’t anything he said this time, it was just his body language,” he paused, looking up to meet Lucius’ eyes. “They don’t like that.”
Lucius held his gaze for a very long moment, until the boy looked away in discomfort, a blush working it way slowly up his neck and onto his cheeks.
“Who exactly are you?”
“I’m Neville,” he answered simply. “Neville Longbottom.”
Lucius shook his head, and just barely suppressed his laugh.
“Well, of course you are.” he muttered; the memory of the battle of Hogwarts came back to him sudden and powerful; how could he forget the boy who had, single-handedly, stood up to the Dark Lord after their hero had been presumed dead. But that was another lifetime now…
Lucius shook his head again and looked back at the young man sitting opposite him.
“How long have you been with Draco?”
Neville stared at him blankly: “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t play coy, I’m not a fool.” Lucius chided.
Neville got up to pour some more tea; he didn’t answer Lucius’ question. Once he was seated again, Lucius broached the next order of business.
“We need to get out of here.”
“There is no way out.”
Lucius placed his cup back down on the table top.
“There’s always a way.”
They were silent for a moment that turned into a minute, and then Neville cleared his throat.
“There might be one way, but it’ll dangerous for everyone involved.” He seemed more than just a little reluctant to voice his thoughts. “I know someone; he might be able to help.”
Lucius smiled reassuringly: “Good, we’ll go and see your friend tomorrow.”
He really hoped it wasn’t Harry Potter.
~*~
Draco slept uncomfortably through the night, every movement causing him pain. They both took it in turns to get up to him; and Lucius could still recall, the following morning, Neville’s soothing words, his softly spoken reassurances that Draco was safe and nothing bad would happen to him now.
Lucius couldn’t decide whether he liked or hated the boy.
With the aid of his wand, they warded the house on their departure, assuring Draco that they would be back just as soon as possible. He let Neville take the lead, happy for the meantime to simply observe his surroundings. The streets were mostly quiet, the few people that were about keeping to their own business and trying not to draw attention from the many guards.
Neville however, rather than avoiding the guards, set about trying to catch the eye of one.
“What are you doing?” Lucius growled.
“It’s okay,” he stated quickly and then added to himself: “I hope.”
The guard looked up, saw Neville beaconing to him, and looked away just as quickly.
“C’mon, Justin…” Neville muttered.
After a moment, the guard broke away from the others and made his way calmly across the street, gun in hand. They ducked into the nearest alleyway.
“What are you playing at?” the guard snapped angrily. “Do you know how dangerous this is? If I get caught talking to you,” he paused and glanced at Lucius questioningly. “I could end up back in rehabilitation.”
Neville scowled: “Oh, give it a break Justin; we both know your father won’t let that happen; he’s the reason you’re in the position you’re in.”
“I still have one of these.” Justin pointed to the chip just visible under the skin at the nape of his neck. “The only thing my father did, was make sure I wasn’t executed for being a sympathizer, or traitor, or whatever the hell…”
His voice was getting louder, and Lucius took a step forward, instantly making him fall silent.
“I advise you to keep you voice down.”
“Who’s he?” Justin asked uncertainly, before continuing with his tirade: “You promised that you wouldn’t jeopardize this for me.”
“I need your help.” Neville said quietly, reluctantly. Justin rolled his eyes and looked back over his shoulder.
“Well, I should have known,” he spat. “The only time I ever see you, is when you want something.”
“You made me swear to stay away.” Neville rebuked.
“Do you know what father said at my inquest?” Justin asked, deflated. “He said, he should never have listened to my nonsense about magic and other such bullshit, he should have sent me to
“I’m sorry, Jus…” and Neville really did sound sorry.
“What do you want?”
“We need to get out of here; Draco’s hurt.”
At the mention of Draco’s name, Justin once again went on the offensive: “Y’know, they’ve just dragged Hermione back in for more rehabilitation?”
Neville closed his eyes and his head fell forward onto his chest.
“And you want me, to help you, escape with a Death Eater.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Finch-Fletchley!”
Lucius once again stepped in: “Keep your voices down!” he hissed. “Are you going to help us, or not?”
Justin stared at him for a moment, and then stared at Neville for an even longer moment.
“For old time’s sake…” he muttered.
“We were good once, Justin.”
“Yeah, we were.”
Justin hitched his gun onto his shoulder, and turned away: “Be back here tonight at 11pm, that’s when my shift ends; if you’re late, the deal’s off.”
Once they were alone again, Neville turned to him: “I’m sorry you had to see that…”
“As long as he helps us get out of here, I really couldn’t care less.”
~*~
“You’re not coming, are you?” Draco asked coolly, from his position on the sofa. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Neville since they’d told him what was happening; the whole time Neville had busied himself getting Draco’s things together.
“I can’t, Draco.” He responded, not looking up from his packing.
“Because of Potter?” the resentment was clear in Draco’s voice, and Lucius felt the hairs on the back of his neck quiver.
“I just can’t, Draco.” Neville repeated.
“If Potter wants to stay and play resistance fighter, that’s his business; I don’t see why you have to stay too.”
Neville put the bag down with a bang.
“We’re all doing what we can, Draco! Harry’s just doing what he knows how to do.”
“He doesn’t stand a chance.” Lucius interceded, matter-a-fact.
They all fell silent; and then Draco laughed, briefly, before moaning in pain and holding his ribs once more.
Neville blinked: “Perhaps not, but…” he shrugged.
“There’s a man that might be able to help you,” Lucius offered. “His name is Mark Horrell; have you heard of him?” Neville shook his head. “I’ll send word to him before we leave; he always did enjoy a desperately futile cause.”
Draco stood up, shaky on his feet, and Neville moved to him.
Lucius suddenly felt uncomfortable with their closeness. He reached for the bag in Neville’s hand and turned to the door, just as Neville stroked Draco’s cheek gently and Draco moved into his caress. There was a part of him that was very glad Neville wasn’t coming with them.
Things were already complicated enough.
He scribbled a quick note to Horrell, giving him instructions on how to find Neville, and sent it on its way with a quick flick of his wand. By the time he was done, Draco was at the living room door waiting for him; he looked miserable – they both looked miserable.
“Ready?”
Draco nodded, waiting for Lucius to caste the glamour on him. They were about to leave when Neville stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“There’s a portrait at Hogwarts, it’s not in the Headmasters office, but it’s there.”
Lucius frowned, not really understanding where this was going.
Neville continued: “The portrait, it’s Severus Snape. He told me, before I was taken from Hogwarts, to send him someone with a brain,” the boy smiled that private smile Lucius was becoming familiar with. “He said that there might be a way to break the effect of the chip, something about nanotechnology and electrical discharges, I think; I really had no idea what he was talking about.”
Lucius’ heartbeat slowed almost perceptibly and then sped up again; Severus at Hogwarts, talking Muggle jargon…
“Thank you, Neville.” Lucius said, giving him a rare smile. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
~*~
to be continued