tonks/lucius
WHO: Tonks & Lucius Malfoy
WHAT: Meeting "properly" for the first time.
WHERE: The Nott-Malfoy ball
WHEN: Saturday night
RATING: PG
STATUS: Done




“I was so good Daddy and Mummy took me swimming!”

The voice of his five year old son alerted Lucius Malfoy to the fact that someone was standing in the hallway just off the library, an area not specifically forbidden to the guests but certainly out of the range of a more public one, and he let out an exasperated sigh. He would have to play charming host to whichever of the visiting witches and wizards had gotten ‘lost’ – accidentally or on purpose – when all he had sought was to retrieve a moment’s peace. It was somewhat uncouth to slip out of one’s own party, but Rita Skeeter had found her way into the Malfoy estate, and legitimately – she was a guest of one of the Ministry employees whose father was in one of the lower years Narcissa had invited. She was a clever bitch, that one, and had been doggedly stalking closer to the Malfoys themselves all evening. Draco had eluded her so far – or so Lucius had seen – and Narcissa was out of harm’s way, which left him the last convenient target.

It figured that his only escape would be blocked by yet another nuisance.

He squared his shoulders and headed into the hallway, ready to lead a partygoer back to the event Narcissa had so carefully planned. He came to something of a short stop, however, when he saw which of his guests had coaxed Draco’s painted form into speaking, a feat rare for a non family member.

Then again, Nymphadora Tonks was technically family now, he reminded himself. Or so Narcissa and Draco would will it. Doubtlessly the girl would be more than pleased to keep her distance from him, and so would Lucius from her, except that she had most definitely wandered where she didn’t belong.

This particular portrait hung in the middle of the hall, surrounded by the least objectionable Malfoy children’s portraits; Lucius’ own, taken when he was twelve, hug directly to the right of Draco’s. It was maintaining a polite, if chilly silence, though it kept glancing at Tonks as if she was some sort of wild animal it simply had to see to believe. Lucius could well believe that, and he shook his head.

The portrait of Draco, commissioned in honor of his fifth birthday, was posed in formal attire, though unlike Lucius’ own, that was the only formality about it. Draco was very much still a child, and the background and accompanying objects – including a miniature broom and a stuffed dragon – reflected that. The portrait Draco, however, had abandoned the formal overcoat and tie and sat cross-legged, chattering on to Tonks while it held loosely to the stuffed dragon.

Lucius recalled that the portrait had been taken shortly before Draco was five, a few months to the day, in fact. He was quite articulate for a five year old, though Lucius would have accepted little less, and quite a bit friendlier in those days. That was before Draco had stopped accepting the affections his parents gave him, before that certain night which had taken the child and shaken his world upside down, causing him to frown or remain neutral more often than he smiled. It was a portrait that Lucius loved more than any of the others which had followed it, and that was precisely why it hung here, not in the main portrait gallery where it would be alone among the stern-faced elder Malfoys, or even with the formal portrait of Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco, taken when the boy was an infant.

It was little surprise, therefore, that the portrait would have no qualms about talking to Nymphadora, though Lucius was unhappy to see it, nonetheless. Salazar forbid Draco remember it was here, and who could have seen it.

Before he opened his mouth to remind her to come back into the ball room – hell, before he’d even found a way to formulate that as a polite request rather than a command – the portrait saw him. “Daddy!” it cried, and jumped up, waving frantically.

Lucius braced himself for the impact, though he did offer the portrait a smile. It was almost genuine, that smile.

Tonks hadn't meant to go wandering, but the odd mixture of guests unnerved her. She was used to dealing well with those from all walks of life, but not in the Malfoy Manor. She had never thought she'd be there for anything short of a Ministry raid. Yet, she had voluntarily stepped inside that large house. Not just alone, but with her mother and father. It was a new world indeed and she needed some time to herself. Unfortunately, it was near impossible with all the people about. So when she meandered into that particular corridor and was greeted by an energetic little boy's portrait, she gasped. When he called after his father, she got even more flustered and in her haste to search out Lucius, tripped over her heels and landed face-down on the rug. Oh, what an impression. Honestly. She simply lay there for a moment, cursing her lack of balance. "I'm sorry," she managed finally, pushing herself to her knees, "I didn't mean to...disturb."

Lucius was somewhat surprised, he had to admit, that Tonks had fallen. Something about her being clumsy had not slipped his notice - he was a noticing person - but he hadn't anticipated this. He did not sigh, however, and very carefully did not make a moue of distaste. He merely reached out his hand with a neutral expression. "You did not disturb me. Apparently I have disturbed you," he stated.

She couldn't help but gaze warily at that hand. "I just..." She took off her shoes. "There. That's better." She cleverly got out of touching him in yanking off those heels that made it even harder than usual to stay upright. "He...he startled me." She jumped back onto her feet and smiled at the portrait. "He was a cutie, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius was very nearly amused at the divertive effort. "Yes," he agreed, somewhat dryly, though the portrait's affable enthusiasm made him long for a different time, a different Draco than the one she knew. "He does that to the unwary. It's his way of having fun."

Chuckling, Tonks stepped a bit closer to examine the child and his surroundings. "I bet he had a great laugh just now." She could hardly believe the joyful little boy was the same Draco she knew. "I bet Draco would die if he knew."

"He does know," Lucius informed her. "He's not entirely pleased by this painting still being in existence." He surveyed her cautiously, this technical niece of his.

"Surprised he hasn't torched it," she kidded though it felt awkward to be standing there making small talk with Lucius Malfoy. "The party is quite nice," she added for lack of anything better to say. How many times had they crossed in battle or examination? It was just plain weird.

Lucius was attempting for the sake of his wife and his son to be extremely polite, which is why the conversation was awkward for him; doubtless it was awkward to her for the same reasons, but still. Being polite meant pretending, in his world view. He shrugged. "It is, as galas go, not a bad one. Have you truly never been here, -- Miss Tonks?" He found that hard to believe; it seemed as if every manner of Ministry employee had traipsed through the place, from the Minister to the lowliest janitor.

Tonks' eyes turned to look up at the tall man. She was surprised at his disbelief, but then, remembering her job, she guessed it was a logical bewilderment. "No, Mr. Malfoy, I have not. I requested I not be put to such work here." She shrugged her shoulders. "I know you might not approve, but your son means a great deal to me. I would not invade his home."

Approve, Lucius did not. He didn't have much choice in the matter, and said as much. "Whether or not I approve doesn't matter at this point. Draco is his own man now, for better or worse, and I have no say in his future - at least not nominally. Of course the past matters."

Tonks hadn't expected much more and was only glad his lack of approval manifested in what he didn't straight out say. "I think he's a brilliant one," she couldn't help but say. "He's a right brilliant kid." It seemed natural to add a "you did a great job" when talking to a parent, but...well, not to Lucius Malfoy.

"Most of the time," he said dryly. "Making rash statements is also a forte of Draco's, and that does not display his brilliancy to proper effect, does it?"

Tonks' cheeks colored at Lucius' words. She still remembered that comment to Daphne, but she also, in her deepest heart, knew Draco cared about the Tonks family despite that stupid remark. It had hurt, yes, but she was trying to forget it. "We all say things," she insisted. "Have you never, Mr. Malfoy, said something you regretted?" She couldn't bring herself to ever breathe a bad word about Draco toward Lucius. No, the man had his own ideas about children and she didn't want to give any reasons to scold Draco.

Lucius arched a brow at that. "Interesting, Miss Tonks, that you aren't as prepared to jump all over it as your mother was. Are you actually attempting to defend my son?" The tone was somewhat condescending - even he could admit that - but he was quite honestly curious. Obviously, if she thought he was a bastard to his son, then certainly, it made sense, not that he enjoyed it. And if he was going to be rendered uncomfortable, then he was going to pass it on.

"I did question him," Tonks admitted, her tone guarded though her expression was even more neutral. "My mother is protective. It upset me, but that doesn't mean I don't understand. I am older than he, Mr. Malfoy, and quite willing to put it behind us. So, yes, I am defending his lapse in judgment. He's made many strides." She smoothed out some of her hair, looking Lucius over coolly.

His wife was always protective, where Draco was concerned, even more so than he was. "Really, so it was a lapse in judgment as opposed to an error in thinking? Interesting choice of words, Miss Tonks."

Tonks didn't enjoy feeling baited and it showed as she crossed her arms, his eyes piercing the former Death Eater. "I don't believe he thinks I'm not fit to lick his feet. Not anymore. I believe he wanted Daphne to think he did and I do believe that's a judgment and not a thinking error. Any other questions?"

Lucius shrugged. "Perhaps, do they bother you?" It was incredibly juvenile to ask, but he had put up with nothing but stressing matters for the last forty-eight hours before the party. Not nearly as much as Narcissa had, obviously, but they were minor irritants building up to an explosion of sorts - and Tonks was a convenient, if awkward, target.

Tonks drew to her full height, defenses going way up. Perhaps she had decided to dislike the man before she even met him, but he wasn't doing much in the way of gaining any trust or empathy with his veiled conversation points. "No, actually. What else it is you wish to know?" She recalled a few not completely horrible journal conversations with Lucius and half wondered where that man had gone. She steeled herself for worse, but that Hufflepuff part of her hoped she was wrong.

Yet Lucius, despite intentions, found himself remaining fairly calm. He was a former Slytherin, after all, and a Malfoy, and Draco's inability to hold his temper was not exemplary of the family, but rather of a seventeen-year-old boy pushed to extraordinary extremes. And this woman had been kind to his son. Regardless of whether or not he wanted to admit it, Draco needed all the help he could get; therefore, Lucius was forced to hold his tongue. To smile and nod while Mudbloods invaded his home, and half-breeds invaded his family tree. What choice did he have when his son needed them, when Narcissa had cried for months after losing Andromeda the first go 'round? He couldn't picture her letting go so easily now. Subsuming that desire for her sane older sister would not happen, no matter what Lucius wished.

Not that he couldn't understand the need for someone who understood. It was why he had grieved Angus' loss so, when he'd gotten the chance. Angus was the closest to true kin, even if they had been of utterly different temperaments and ideals.

"Why did you bother with him in the first place?" The question was more softly put forth than his previous tone.

She supposed that was a natural question. In truth, she had expected it months earlier, if not from Lucius, from Narcissa. "He was a student," she answered frankly, "But...he was different too. I tried to forget it. I didn't want to like him, Mr. Malfoy. Then..." She smiled gently. "We started talking more and he needed help in catching up with his work..." She shrugged her shoulders. "He had been through a lot and...well, I've grown to love him quite a bit. He's family and I've always wanted more. Dad's is great, but there aren't many and..." She bit back the rest of her words. "I've said too much."

"I can avoid being verbally cruel should I wish to," Lucius pointed out. "As I have told your Mr. Potter, I would not have survived long on either side if I did not know how to hold my tongue." He did not avoid the subject at hand, however. "I see. Draco had been behind in Transfiguration?" A premise he found hard to believe, but he supposed the last year had done its damage. Guilt crept up his spine, a thing Lucius wasn't fond of but had nonetheless found a home with him over the past few months. It was that guilt he tried to suppress, avoiding Tonks' gaze for a moment more.

Tonks noticed the aversion and wondered, if only for a second, what that was about. "He had a rough sixth year," she needlessly reminded Lucius. "He rebounded quite well." Her eyes swept back over the portrait. She grinned when little Draco smiled and waved. "I am not going anywhere, you know."

"I know." There was perhaps a note of chagrin to that, but when he followed her gaze to his son, he held back the full extent of it. "I am not afraid of it or dismayed by it, Miss Tonks. I may not like it, but that is something that I am beginning to get used to."

"And why don't you like it, Mr. Malfoy?" Tonks turned back to look at him again. "Honestly, don't you want your son to be loved for who he is rather than what his name his or his bank account? You can never question my intentions toward your family, but other people? Is that truly what you want for him?" It was audacious and she wasn't sure where it came from, but the words spilled nonetheless.

"Do I pretend to welcome you with open arms instead, Miss Tonks? Would you prefer me to act the hypocrite?" Lucius countered, glancing at her. "I don't like you because I do not like the idea of losing my son to anyone else, blood lines aside. And if you wish to discuss the forty-four years I have been on this earth, believing what I have believed about half-bloods, and feeling the superiority of the pureblood station? You may do that. Do I appreciate that you care for him? Of course I do. I am not so blind as you might believe, Nymphadora. Nor am I as foolish. I don't want my son to be surrounded by those who will only use him for his name or his money - but that is precisely what society set him up to. He was born to that rank, and born, as I was, to appreciate the smaller number of people who would not openly defy that law but stick to it in private. People who were of the same rank and birth who were quite well aware that the system is 'bunk,' as I believe some have phrased it, and live within it despite that. One does not challenge the status quo without damn good cause, and so far? This Ministry has given me no indication that it is going to be any less harsh on him for all that you care. So would I have him pretend? Yes, yes I would. Love you in private and hate you in public. Draco may or may not choose to do that, but if this is any indication of his choice - can you love him despite that? Despite the fact that he is afraid?"

Tonks actually snorted. He really did like challenging people didn't he? "Do you honestly think I care what you think about me, Mr. Malfoy? I assure you I do not. You are a coward whose wife saved his hide." Her eyes narrowed and she turned so that she could not see the portrait any longer. "My affection is my own business, but, if I have my way, Draco will learn exactly how to stop being afraid. And why? Because he will have people who will back him no matter his choices or his words or maybe even his actions. He's not you no matter how much I wanted him to be. You should be proud of that, Lucius. He's not you. He's someone others can believe in. And you want to know something? I don't think he'd let anyone hurt me, publicly or privately." Perhaps it was a silly notion, but Tonks still believed it with her whole heart. "So, Uncle, I can love him despite pretty much anything."

Lucius Malfoy did not ordinarily stand for being called a coward, not by anyone. Occasionally if the person was powerful enough, he would be forced not to say anything, but he would strike back later, in subtle ways. With Tonks? He could only use verbal methods, and even then, not much. "I see," he said, instead of answering back with an insult. It was a jaw-tightening moment, definitely. "Very well, niece."

Tonks shot him a smug expression that, if Lucius looked carefully, would recognize as pure Black. "You asked."