mythicdove (mythicdove) wrote in hp_prompts, @ 2007-09-12 15:38:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | creative |
Entry tags: | fiction, gen |
The Lord of The Manor Lucius/Narcissa/Bellatrix
The Lord of The Manor
by: mythicdove
Rating: PG
Words: 802
Summary: Never forget, Lucius Malfoy is the master of Malfoy Manor.
Prompt: A fight for hp_prompts
Lucius sat in his chair with his eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankle, glass of brandy in his hand. It had been a very long, aggravating day, and the evening had not gone much better.
"Damn it all to hell," he thought darkly as the events of the past few hours came back to him...
The door had opened to his study, Narcissa entered, with some of the latest gossip about Draco and his issues at school. Potter again. Potter, Potter, Potter. He was beginning to wonder if his son had developed some sort of fixation on that boy. Hell, he was beginning to suspect the whole world had.
At the time, Narcissa had been complaining on and on about the treatment her poor, sweet Draco was receiving, and asking him what he intended to do about it. Poor and sweet, two words Lucius did not normally associate with his son. Spoiled, arrogant perhaps... She was then demanding to know what he was going to do about the situation.
It briefly occurred to him to remind her that Draco was getting older and it was about time he handled things on his own; but instead Lucius simply reminded her that it was her request that Draco attend Hogwarts. He really should learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Narcissa had not spoken to him for over two hours, and save for thumping on the ceiling as she walked over head, he wouldn't even know she was around.
Until the door slammed.
Apparently she went out for the evening, probably off to complain to Bellatrix.
He sighed.
The last thing he needed was to deal with his sister in law and her...
The fireplace spewed green flames, they encompassed the room, and out stepped the witch in question. Though witch was a mild term for her, and Lucius had a whole litany of names he could ascribe to her. One in particular that rhymed quite well with witch.
He raised an eyebrow and looked at her; he knew he didn't even have to greet her. The diatribe started. He said nothing, just sat and regarded her coolly. She was going to have a heart attack if she kept screaming like that. Her face was contorted; she was blasting him with phrases and curses he had not even heard of before.
"My dear Bella, I do believe you are upset with me?" Lucius took a sip of his brandy as a hex flew over his head.
He was completely convinced that she had lost her mind long ago, but this was providing too much amusement. And so he sat, calmly regarding her as she screamed and hurled insults at him about how could he be such a monster to her sister and nephew.
After her screams had subsided, and she stood there breathing ragged, face flushed and hair askew, he lowered his glass to the table and stood to his full height.
She took a step back and regarded him between slitted eyes, ready for his attack.
But Lucius simply walked from the room, and headed upstairs. He was not in the mood to deal with Narcissa, his sister-in-law or his son. About an hour later, the floo activated in their sitting room, and Narcissa stepped out. She regarded him icily, walked over to the chair across from him and sat. He had not looked up from his papers, or even given so much as a faint acknowledgement that she had returned. She opened her mouth to speak, and that quickly black mist had formed and moved away from the chair, across the room and wrapped around her wrist. The form of her husband appeared before her, she barely had a moment to take in a breath.
"I will make myself perfectly clear, Narcissa. If you have something to say to me, if you have an argument with me, then by all means state your mind. But do not.." he paused, and squeezed her wrist, "do not ever send that harlot of a sister back here to taunt and annoy me with her foul mouth and twisted sense of righteousness ever again." His face was calm, but his eyes were cold.
"You are a Malfoy, act like one. If you can not defend yourself to me and need that worthless sister of yours to do it for you then return to the family you came from and trouble me no longer."
She sat, speechless, staring at him with evident shock playing on her features. He simply let go of her wrist and walked back to his chair, taking up his papers and settling back down again. "Go now, and tend to our son," he stated. "I wish to be alone this evening."
This time he heard the door shut softly as she left.