melfinatheblue (melfinatheblue) wrote in luciusfqf, @ 2007-12-21 11:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | fiction: lucius/narcissa, fiction: lucius/severus, het, slash |
Lucius Malfoy and the Cauldron of Doom 4/?
Title: Lucius Malfoy and the Cauldron of Doom Part 4
Author/Artist: melfinatheblue
Rating: PG
Pairing: Lucius/Severus, Lucius/Narcissa, Draco/Pansy
Summary: Lucius' first morning and class
Warnings: for cursing, implied sexual activity, kissing, and mention of torture. I go into no detail, so PG. Also mush, cute, and angst.
Prompt: Lucius has been a bad boy and as punishment, The Ministry force him to take over the job of Potions Master. No-one ever said The Ministry had any sense.
Notes: I made it to a class! YAY! 2900 words, more or less.
Last bit here
When Lucius woke up the next morning, he couldn't remember where he was. The ceiling above his head was cracked and not the right colour, a dirty off white rather than the dark blue curtains he was used to. There was no warm body curled up to him, and his bed was smaller than it should be. In fact, everything was wrong. For a moment he panicked, thinking that the Dark Lord was back, and that any second he was going to hear "Oh good, Lucius, you're awake, so we can continue," and hideous and horribly painful things would happen to him. But when he cautiously moved, he wasn't bound. Then it hit him like a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick. Hogwarts. Teaching. Start of term. Bugger, bugger, bugger.
He cast a quick tempus to check the time. Still quite early. Plenty of time to gird the loins as Narcissa liked to put it. He preferred to call it "dressing to intimidate the inferiors." He quickly picked out and dressed in the clothes he was going to spend his first day in, nice enough that he would feel comfortable, but not ones he was overly found of. After ruining a few pairs of robes this summer, he'd learned that lesson. He added the subtle touches that made a set of robes into an outfit worthy of a Malfoy: a pocket watch, silver cuff links, and a black silk ribbon to hold his hair back. He inspected himself in the mirror, and decided it would do. He grabbed the silver flask containing a mixture of the pain potion and apple juice and slipped it into a inner pocket. He seized the heirloom cane, certain by the end of the day he would need it. And the extra wand was always useful. Even the Dark Lord hadn't known about that Malfoy tradition. It had been unfortunate that his habit of using the cane wand rather than his own had led to its destruction, but wands could always be replaced, and it had seemed rather appropriate to replace it with his grandfather's own wand. He slipped his own wand into the arm sheath; no sense in leaving it about for others to see.
"Well, no point in postponing the inevitable," he muttered to himself, as he glanced one last time in the mirror. He took a deep breath and walked out of his quarters and down to the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey was there already. She beckoned him over.
"Malfoy, just the man I wanted to see. Sit, sit. Now, what was wrong last night?"
"I have a bad back."
"Has anyone looked at it?"
"Yes. And then they threw up. And then I got poked and prodded and asked some questions about things I really don't want to recall. Then they gave me pain potions and told me to take it easy."
"It can't be that bad."
"Trust me. The Dark Lord got creative. I am told the scars are horrific. All I know is they hurt."
"Does anything help?"
"Pain potions. Which make me, well, loopy. Also inactivity. Which is also not really an option."
"Who at St. Mungo's did you see? With your permission, I'd like to get your file, since you'll be under my care for the year."
"John Frakes, the family healer. Also some specialists, but he should have all their reports. I'll owl him and tell him you can have a copy of the file."
"Come see me before it starts to get bad like it did last night. A muscle relaxant should stop you from locking up like that at least."
She patted his shoulder as she stood.
"You don't deserve to hurt like that. No one does. Good luck today, and come and see me if you need to."
The hall was starting to fill up now. He sipped his tea and ate some burned toast and marmalade. The eggs were rather frightening-looking, and the thought of fried meat turned his stomach. He looked around in vain for some sort of fruit option. Some strawberries and cream sounded just the thing. Or an apple. Something that wasn't cooked to death.
"Nerves getting the best of you, Malfoy?"
"Actually I was looking for some fruit. Looks like I'll need to hit up the kitchens. Care to join me, Peters?"
"Hey, did you say you're going to the kitchens? I still haven't found them. Do you think they'll have coffee? I can't stand tea."
Lucius was rather amused that three of his fellow new professors had no idea where the kitchens were.
"Well, come along then. We'll need to hurry. Don't want to be late."
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Meanwhile at the Slytherin Table
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Draco was not, nor had ever been, a morning person. He liked a bit of a lie-in. And thus, when he saw a small processional led by his father leave the Great Hall, he first put it down to still being mostly asleep. It would not be the first time he'd had dreams at breakfast. It wasn't until Pansy elbowed him for the second time that he actually turned his head over to look at her.
"Whaa?"
"I said, why is your father leaving the Hall with most of the rest of the new staff?"
Draco pondered this for a bit.
"Draco!"
"'m not asleep. 'm thinking."
"Think faster!"
Draco thought about what they normally ate for breakfast at home. No fried foods, mostly fruit and muffins and poached eggs. He compared that to what was in front of him: a selection of various fried meats, hard scrambled eggs, and rather burned toast. Then Pansy pulled his hair.
"Oww!" Draco lifted his head up from the table to stare daggers at her while rubbing his scalp. "He went to the kitchens. He can't stand this sort of food for breakfast."
"Oh. Well now that you're awake you can eat something. You've got Potions in half an hour. Wonder why everyone else went with him."
"Um, they wanted something different too? Honestly Pans, I don't know. It's too early in the morning to think."
"It's eight."
"It's morning. That's far too early."
"Draco, why do I put up with you?"
"I'm endearingly handsome and a god in the sack. Or it's the same reason mother puts up with father. I dunno."
"And why does your mother put up with your father?"
"He loves her."
Pansy looked at Draco for a second with tears in her eyes. Then she kissed him. When she finally let him up for air, he looked very confused.
"Um, Pans, what did I just say?"
"That you love me."
"Oh. Remind me to talk to father when I'm awake, alright? And I do love you, Pans."
He got a hug for that.
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Lucius was eating an apple as he walked into the potions classroom. Unfortunately, the kitchens had been short on fruit, but the house elves had assured him that they would be sure to have some available at the head table for breakfast from now on. It was funny how he always thought of this room, and the office, as Severus's domain. Though this room was also the place he'd first managed to make Severus plead incoherently in three languages. He smirked at the thought of that night. It had been a wonderful way to celebrate Severus's new job. And after that, Sev had stopped sulking about the wedding. His watch hissed at him in Parseltongue, and he pulled it out.
"Professor, did your watch just say 'five minutes to go' in Parseltongue?"
He looked up to see Potter standing in the door.
"It said something in Parseltongue. As I don't speak it, I'll have to take your word for it."
"Why do you have a watch you can't understand?"
Lucius looked at his watch for a moment.
"I inherited it. Not really your concern beyond that, is it, Mr. Potter?"
He took another bite of apple and moved behind the desk.
"I think it is rather my concern."
"Mr. Potter, are you planning to follow me around for the rest of my life just to make sure I don't do anything suspicious?"
"Maybe."
"Well then, I sincerely hope you find watching me teach interesting. You'll probably be doing it for a long time to come."
Potter was saved from answering by the arrival of some of the other NEWT students. Lucius spared a smile for Draco as he staggered in. The boy was more dazed-looking then he generally was in the morning, and rather lipstick-covered. The shade Miss Parkinson wore, if he was not much mistaken. Soon after a veritable horde of students came in. Lucius had known this class would be large, but twenty-five students seemed much different on paper then they did in person. Much more overwhelming for one. Then his watch hissed at him. It was time to start his teaching career.
"Welcome to Seventh-Level NEWT Potions. Today we will be brewing the Perfect Hangover Cure. If all the ingredients are to hand, this potion can be brewed fairly easily in less than fifteen minutes. It is the proper preparation of the ingredients that make this potion NEWT level. After you are done, you will be drinking your potions to test them, so do be careful."
The muggleborn's hand was in the air at that.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"Professor, that isn't safe!"
"Miss Granger, the most that these ingredients will do when combined, even when prepared and mixed in an impressively incorrect manner and then ingested, is give the drinker a very nasty case of alcohol poisoning. And I have some bottles of correctly brewed Perfect Hangover Cure sitting right here, just in case that occurs. Any other concerns?"
"No, professor."
"Now, you'll find the recipe in your potion texts on page 42, as well as detailed instructions on how to prepare the ingredients. This is a potion that most find very useful and continue making long after the NEWTs are over. Please gather your ingredients and begin."
He began to wander among the tables. Some of the students were recognizable to him, most Slytherins and the members of Potter's gang. He stopped before a Hufflepuff who was frowning at his collection of twigs.
"Is there a problem?"
"I don't know which is which, sir."
"That's willow, and that's mistletoe. You can tell by the berries. Now, who are you?"
"Robert Jacobs, sir."
"Alright, Jacobs, any other Herbology questions?"
"No, sir."
"Carry on, then."
After twenty-five minutes of wandering around the classroom, he was reasonably assured that everyone in the class was going to poison themselves. Or explode something, which would be quite an accomplishment with this potion. He walked over to the Weasley twins, which in retrospect was his biggest mistake of the day.
"Why have you two started brewing?"
"We got the ingredients ready."
Lucius raised an eyebrow.
"You finished preparing in 25 minutes? Even experienced potion makers generally take an hour to get these ingredients ready."
"What can I say, we work fast."
He leaned over the cauldron to look at its contents. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that the contents exploded. The world went all purple-colored and loud and then faded to black.
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Nathan Terry was wandering along the corridor when he heard a loud explosion. That didn't sound good. He ran towards the origin point, and almost collided with a 7th year Hufflepuff.
"Where are you going?"
"Madam Pomfrey. Explosion in potions room. Cauldron. Malfoy said he'd hex me if I didn't hurry."
"Professor Malfoy said that?"
"No, he got hit. Draco Malfoy said that."
"Which way?"
"That way." The Hufflepuff pointed over his shoulder as he took off again.
Nathan took off running in that direction. This was not good. This was very not good. When he hit the potions classroom, it looked like a bomb had gone off. There were pieces of metal everywhere, in tables, in cauldrons, and in people. Some of the students were running around, casting healing spells and bandaging wounds. Others were trying to clean up the mess. And some were just sitting there, looking stunned. He grabbed one.
"Where's Professor Malfoy?"
"He's over there. He was standing over the cauldron."
"Shit."
"About covers it."
Nathan walked over to the small huddle. He could hear students casting healing spells. This was not a good thing. The students parted at his approach, and he realized just how lucky both Malfoy and the student had been.
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Draco had been at the other end of the room from the Weasel twins. Gryffindorks and Slytherins didn't mix. And no one wanted to be near those two if they could help it, even if one of them was now incorporeal. The explosion had come as a complete surprise, and his first instinct was to look around for Longbottom and see what kind of mess he'd made now. Then he saw the crumpled body of his father, and he grabbed the nearest panicking Hufflepuff.
"You, hospital wing, now! Move, or I will hex you to within an inch of your life!"
The idiot took off like a bat out of hell. Draco ran over to his father. There was blood. Lots of it. Lucius was slumped against the desk, and there was a lot of blood coming out of his leg. Part of the cauldron lay across his chest, and one of his arms was across his face. He took a deep breath.
'I will not panic. I will be calm and stable.'
"Pans, over here! You're better at healing than me."
Pansy ran over. She immediately started doing things; Draco really didn't want to know what. He trusted her. And he was probably going to panic or faint if he paid attention to what she was doing.
"Alright, anyone who's got some healing experience, raise hands."
About two hands went up.
"Come on, I know there were more than two of you helping Madam Pomfrey last year. That counts."
Four more hands rose.
"You six spread out. Figure out who looks the worst and start helping them. Get some of the others to help you. Get them to clean around them too. You two, near the door, go get the new Defense teacher. His classroom's the nearest. Everyone else, find something useful to do, and do it."
"What about the Headmistress?"
"Right, Potter, why don't you go get her. Someone certainly should."
"Why don't you?"
"Because I'm not leaving my father, Weasel."
"I'll go, Ron."
Potter ran off and Draco surveyed the room. People were doing things now. It was funny how people would jump into action in a crisis, as soon as you told them what to do. He knelt back down by his father. Pans had stopped the bleeding, but the puddle under him was really big, and he was very pale.
"Is he going to be okay, Pans?"
"I don't know. He was really lucky, Draco. For some reason, the side of the cauldron facing him didn't fragment very much. But he hit his head really hard and he's lost quite a bit of blood."
"Can you do anything else for him?"
"Not really."
"Okay, go see what you can do for the others. I'll stay with him."
Draco sat down by Lucius. For lack of anything better to do, he started stroking his father's hair. It seemed so unfair that they had come through so much and now he could lose him to something so stupid as this.
"What are you doing?"
Draco looked up. There was a professor standing over him.
"Trying to make him more comfortable."
"And you're stroking his hair because?"
"Because it's something to do."
'Because I used to be so fascinated by his hair when I was little. Because he used to let me play with it, even though it must have hurt. Because after the Dark Lord was done with him, sometimes all I could do was this, and I knew it made him feel better. Because...'
"Look, who are you?"
"His son."
"Oh."
"Draco, the Weasel twin needs to go to the infirmary, now. I can't help him."
The professor standing above him sprung into action, giving orders just like Draco had been a few moments earlier. Soon enough the Weasel twin, his father, and the other injured students were on their way to the infirmary and Draco walked behind them, clutching at Pansy's hand.
"He has to be alright, Pans. I'm not ready to lose him yet."
Next part here