lucius malfoy (loucius) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-01-08 00:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | lucius malfoy |
WHO: Lucius and Draco Malfoy
WHAT: Discussions on Luna, life, and love (or Draco and Lucius play (metaphorical) (not really) catch)
WHEN: January 6
WHERE: Malfoy Manor
Ensconced in the library, Lucius could only guarantee a half-hour reprieve from Bellatrix before he had to find a different spot. He cursed Rodolphus for deciding to have his bit of fun while leaving Bellatrix behind, but Lucius had luckily evaded her for the past hour. Yet, he knew that he couldn't stay hidden here, or anywhere else, for the rest of the day — for the time being, he would take advantage of the silence. Picking up a book he'd set aside last week, he settled into a chair and turned to where he'd stopped. Lucius had only read a paragraph before he heard the door open. Sighing, he set his book down and made to stand up, only to see that it wasn't Bellatrix who had found him, but Draco. "Draco," he said. "Thank Salazar." “Father?” Draco asked, both by way of greeting and to ask why Lucius seemed so relieved to see him, an eyebrow raised. "Well, get inside before your aunt comes by and sees," Lucius directed, pulling Draco away from the door. “Oh, you’re hiding from Aunt Bellatrix,” Draco said, understanding dawning as he lowered his eyebrow, stumbling over his feet as his father pulled him away from the door. He cast an eye down at his sleeve to see if it’d been ruined in the trek. It hadn’t, thankfully. "It isn't that I'm hiding from her," Lucius corrected, as he walked further away from the door, expecting Draco to follow. "I'm enjoying this time away from her." Draco’s face clearly indicated he didn’t believe Lucius as he followed, his mouth quirked in barely suppressed amusement, but he said, voice somber, “Of course, Father.” This was one of the stranger holidays he’d spent at home. Lucius didn't press the point. Instead, he turned around and took a look at his son, suddenly remembering that this would be the last night he would spend at home until the school year was over. Although they had spent time together over the break, they had also been busy with everyone else, not just their new housemates, but the other Death Eaters as well. It hadn't been what he or Narcissa had hoped for the time off. It spurred him to ask, "How have you been doing?" No matter how strange this holiday was, it was far better than last year’s, when his father had been in Azkaban. Draco’s shoulders lost some of their stiffness and he spared the library door a cautious glance before he spoke. “I’m fine,” he replied. And though there were several rooms between them and the entrance to the cellar, he glanced at the floor with something very close to a shudder. “I wasn’t expecting anymore houseguests.” While Draco had relaxed, Lucius' shoulders tensed at the reminder of who had also arrived the day Draco had come home. He'd done remarkably well in forgetting the past week or so — the beauty of having such a big house was that he could avoid certain rooms and areas if he wanted to without a problem — but he was confronted with the knowledge again. He wanted to reassure Draco, echoing the same sentiment he'd told Narcissa. "It was a surprise for us too, but they'll be gone soon." “Good. It might start to get crowded in here.” Giving the floor one final glance, Draco nodded. He was more easily reassured by his father than his mother had been. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and then reconsidered the better thoughts. “I still can’t believe Uncle Rabastan has a…Carmichael?” Although Lucius had known for months now, every time he had to think about it, it was just as unbelievable as it was the first time he'd heard about it. He shook his head in a shared disbelief. "No matter what your mother says," he began, "you won't have to befriend him. Dinner was quite the limit." He didn't think Narcissa would ask him to do that, but she was set on helping Rabastan get to know his long lost son better. “I’ve no interest in befriending Carmichael,” Draco said, his tone haughty because his mother wasn’t there to expect him to befriend anyone. “I’m not interested in his snake oils.” "Yes," Lucius said, confused, "we'd certainly like you to stay away from the snake oils. Is this what he's peddling?" “That isn’t the half of it, Father.” Draco drew himself up, clearly on the verge of going on a tear about the injustices that took place at school, about which he could talk at length and circularly. “I was certain he had an entire black market going on at school and I’d hoped to be the one to uncover the plot, but Granger b—” He knew firsthand how impossible it was to stop Draco once he got started on any subject relating to Potter and his friends, so Lucius interrupted before he had the chance. "You'd think he'd choose something better to pawn off on the students, but that'll be his Knockturn upbringing." He paused, hit by an unwanted idea. "If Rabastan tries to take you to Knockturn, find an excuse not to go." Draco suddenly became absorbed in studying his shoes and very quietly said, “It isn’t so bad on Knockturn.” Taken aback by his opinion, Lucius had nothing to say in response for a full minute. Then, "It can be useful for certain objectives, but not if you follow your uncle along." “I like Uncle Rabastan, though.” "And he likes you." He, at least, knew Draco's name. "But this advice is for your own good." “I will take it under advisement, Father,” Draco said, his tone very formal and his hands linked behind his back in a very businesslike pose. He’d been to Knockturn with Rabastan already, though, and he’d found the whole thing great fun. “Good,” Lucius said, satisfied with the answer. He moved on quickly. “Are you all ready to return to school?” “Yes.” Draco said, slowly. But he cast the door another cautious glance and pressed his lips together thoughtfully, before adding, “The Carrows have unconventional teaching methods.” Very quickly, though, “And they’re idiots.” Sternly, tinged with concern, Lucius said, “If they try to give you any trouble, let your mother and I know immediately.” If the Carrows knew any better, they wouldn’t, but he knew just how little they knew of anything, let alone what would be good for them. “They wouldn’t dare give me trouble,” Draco said, haughtiness returned. It was put on, though, because though he was well-behaved at school, he didn’t believe the Carrows wouldn’t give him trouble. He felt them luring Crabbe and Goyle away from him, knew they were giving his two oldest friends special lessons that he was both not invited to and not interested in. “I will, though.” Lucius nodded in approval, falling silent for a moment before he started again. He felt awkward all of a sudden and wanted to shake it off. "And you know if… there's anything you want to talk about, you always can. With me or with your mother." “Yes, of course, Father,” Draco said, giving Lucius a small fleeting smile. There were hundreds of things he wanted to talk about with his parents, but couldn’t. So he settled on a new nervous habit of his, drawing his hand over his forearm behind his back, over the mark that matched his father’s. Realizing he’d done it, he folded his arms in front of him and cleared his throat. “Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Intrigued, Lucius tried to look as if he wasn't as curious as he felt. "What is it?" “It’s Pansy.” Draco’s shoes were very interesting again. “I don’t think it’s working out.” He was lucky that he had spent years of his life pretending to be someone he wasn't because acting like he hadn't delighted in the news came easily to Lucius. "It isn't? Why not?" “I’m still very fond of her,” Draco said, a little defensively, because he still knew his parents didn’t care for her even with his father’s poker face. “But I think she expects too much of me. She wants to know everything — what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, if I still love her, why I don’t spend my every waking moment with her.” He threw up one of his hands as he added, “Sometimes a man just needs alone time, Father!” "What does she expect from you? You're only seventeen and have a lot of responsibilities to balance," Lucius said patiently, fearing that if he showed too much of his hand, it could turn those misgivings into a recommitment. "Have you talked to her about it?" “Why would I talk to her about it?” Draco asked. "So that she might understand how you're feeling about your," a very slight pause, "relationship." “Talk to her,” Draco said slowly. Discomfort flitted across his features. “She’ll ask more questions, I’m sure of it.” "If she doesn't understand your feelings, perhaps it isn't the best idea to be with her right now." Lucius kept his face blank, but inside, he was wondering where Narcissa was, so he could relay her this possible news. “I’m very busy right now, as well.” Draco drew himself up again, importantly this time. “I have NEWTs to prepare for.” He paused. “Though I appreciate the way she color codes my notes for me. I’ll have to color code them myself.” Even a Carrow could've understood the shift that had just occurred and Lucius was eager to undo it. More insistent, though still as calmly as possible, he reasoned, "While I'm sure her color coding is… helpful, it isn't a reason to stay with someone when you aren't happy together. You should certainly speak to her about it first." “I’ll speak with her.” But Draco really was not looking forward to color coding his own notes. “Thank you, Father.” He turned to to the door, as if to take his leave, but before taking a single step, he turned back to Lucius. “Thea is nice and her face is acceptable, but I don’t think I like her quite like that.” He and Narcissa would have to revisit their notion of subtlety. "We weren't hoping for anything," he assured Draco. "It's just nice to have friends come to visit." Draco raised his eyebrows momentarily and linked his hands behind his back again. “Friends,” he said significantly. "The Travers are good friends to have," he reminded him. "That's all." But Draco was growing tired of being mercenary with his friendships. The conversations he stole with Astoria Greengrass were helping him see that. His hand brushed over his forearm again and he nodded dutifully. “Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I left Bunni packing my things, which I’m sure she’s managed to bungle somehow so I should check on that.” Unaware of Draco's thoughts, Lucius smiled and nodded at his son. "She does tend to do that." He remembered the last time he had Bunni pack for a trip. Before he dismissed him, he added, "If you see Aunt Bellatrix, don't tell her I'm here." “I knew you were hiding,” Draco said over his shoulder as he made for the door. There wasn't a correction on Lucius' end, but he laughed as the door shut and he found his way back to the chair he'd abandoned earlier. The book, lying on the table next to it, was still there and he picked it back up, opening it back to where he'd left off. Hopefully he could get through a chapter before he had to leave. |