Malfoy

@luciuslocks liked → bellatrix

          ❝ hurry brother, we mustn’t disappoint the dark lord. ❞

               he still has the key to the front door, and his lips curl with distaste when it turns in the lock and the heavy oak swings open before him. after all that happened here, draco can’t believe the locks haven’t been changed. grey eyes are wide as they look around at the high ceilings, intricate skirting and door-frames, chandeliers that catch every little bit of the light like raindrops underneath the moonlight, the dark wood and tile like the depths of night. there’s some things he’d change, if it were up to him, but draco’s forgotten how beautiful this place was. ( too bad it’s tainted. )

               one thing is different, though: it’s completely silent, save for slow, cautious footsteps as draco passes through the entry way towards the staircase. he’ll be twenty-two at the end of spring, and he was seventeen last time he stood between this walls, but he still hears the awful screams that once filled them when he lets himself become idle for long enough for his mind to wander. 

               the door to his father’s study is open, the first room on the right once he’s up the stairs, so draco forgoes knocking and steps inside. his mother has been sending him the same letter every year since he left, asking him to join the family for christmas, but he hasn’t even written back to any of them. draco needs to know who he is without his parents and his name and what they’ve done, and the truth is, he still doesn’t know, not all of it, at least. this year, though, he thinks maybe he’s ready to see them; it’ll only be for a few weeks. he doesn’t write ahead of time, just in case he changes his mind at the last minute.

               draco looks different, he knows that much. his taste for all-black with hints of deep green has given way to curiosity for more interesting shades. today he wears a deep red turtleneck, the cream of his blazer and the grey of his brogues matching his patterned trousers, folded up at the cuff to reveal a simple tattoo of a snitch on the inside of his left ankle. slicking down his hair is something he’s also outgrown: now he lets it grow out just enough to fall into its natural pattern of waves, still neat but far less harsh.

               his father doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there, yet, he doesn’t look up from the book that’s in his lap. he doesn’t know what to say; he hasn’t seen either of his parents since their trial concluded after the war, so he doesn’t say anything. instead, draco just clears his throat, hoping to draw his father’s attention.

@luciuslocks / plotted starter

          Even if the appearance of things hasn’t changed all that much ---- the manor still very much the same, himself and Narcissa still very much look the same, a lot has changed since the second wizarding war. What Lucius used to see as a strong family with their heads held high is now fractured and cracked, and whether he admits it or not, he knows that it is his fault. It’s been five years since their son Draco left, and they haven’t heard from him since. And there’s more distance than ever before between himself and Narcissa, she blames him for what happened with Draco.

          Things are different after this war, however. Lucius doesn’t still hold his head up high with pride, not like the first time around. From the moment that he had failed his mission in the Department of Mysteries, things had gone downhill, for his family and his capabilities in The Dark Lord’s eyes, who had not shied away from humiliating him further. It was safe to say that things had not happened the way that they had been intended to.

          Avoidance and hiding. That’s what he’d mostly been doing all this time. The name Malfoy was no longer a good and honorable one to bear in the Wizarding World, so he had been keeping himself to himself. Of course, he wasn’t expecting Draco to come home any time soon. Narcissa had been sending the same letters to him year after year with no response, so hearing the footsteps, he hadn’t thought that it would be his son. But when he heard him clearing his throat, that’s when his head lifted, and his eyes raised up from the book in his lap. 

          Quiet for a few moments, taking in the appearance of his son, who looked so different now from the last time he’d seen him. Not just because he was five years older, but the way he’d dressed himself, the way he was wearing his hair... It was so unlike Draco. Well, the Draco that had been here before. The one that had been so heavily under his own influence. He couldn’t say that he liked it, it was so different from what he was used to. And after all, Lucius was a man who was very much set in his ways, liked things a certain way. But at the same time, his son was back...

          “Oh—I don’t think you are. Or, rather, I doubt that she’d allow you to.” As much as Regulus wished for her well-being, and as much as he wanted to support her, he was certain that she didn’t actually need it. She was a strong woman, well-suited for her role and he knew she would do well to find her own happiness.

          “I appreciate your offer, though. You know I have some good amount of respect for you,” however Lucius chose to take that. “In the end, I don’t think our lives are going to look all that different.” 

          Regulus probably wasn’t wrong on both counts there. Lucius already knew very well that Narcissa was a strong and capable woman, that if he were to do or say something she did not like, he’d know about it. It was one of the things he found attractive in her, in all honesty. And as for their lives? He was likely right about that too, with Sirius now bound to be a scorch mark on the Black family tree, everything was to fall on Regulus.

@luciuslocks

     decades has passed since he last laid his eyes on the malfoy manor. the house where he grew up, the house he called home, the house he’s once been so proud of. now there he was, disowned - a pariah, nothing else. but if that was true - if the dark lord has returned, if he’s growing in power, then he had to do everything he could to protect that one last person he still cared for.

     and so, aemilius took the last few steps ahead across the stone path, hand gripping the heavy door handle as he knocked a few times, deep sound carried across the main hall of the manor. he was very much not excited for all the explaining he’d have to do…

          Raised with a set of beliefs that then carried him from school, through to adulthood, like his brother had been, Lucius was a death eater, and one that, along with his sister-in-law, that had important roles to play when it came to aiding The Dark Lord to be in power. He perhaps didn’t know it yet, too caught up in his quest for pride and power with The Dark Lord, and the glory of the winning side, but the most important thing was keeping his family alive. 

          To hear the knocker against the door to the manor, it hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. None of them had been expecting a visitor. After sharing a look of questioning with his wife, he moved to the door, not in the slightest expecting to find who he did when he opened it, faced rather with a ghost of his past. Someone who he thought was dead.

          𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐘.  it’s as though he does not know of her status in the death eaters.  she surpasses him by many levels,  𝑺𝑯𝑬  is the dark lords favorite.  and he spits such filth at her as if it will not have consequences ?  were he not married to cissy she’d have no issues in causing him to  𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑  immensely.  upper lip curls in a snarl as she stares him down.

          ❝ rotted and remained loyal.  you call yourself his follower when you stood by half-bloods and blood-traitors !  playing cowardly and simply existing among them instead of destroying each filthy half-breed and mudblood you could. ❞

          “ Correct me if I am wrong, Bellatrix, but when The Dark Lord returned, which one of us was there? And which one of us was behind bars? ”  A raise of his brows came with his question, as though he was expectant for her to confirm what he already knew. 

             the words follow a moment of silence ; a moment where seconds prior, draco’s eyes landed on his father in something that looked like disgust.  inside the walls of this prison remind the boy who had no choice of a time where he was a prisoner in his own home.  subjected to the dark lord for a cause he no longer believes in ;  and when lucius seems shocked by the sudden impulse, it only irritates draco more.  

             even here, under high protection and security, his father lives the best of lives for a convict.  that malfoy money, no matter how dirty, has it’s perks.  a thought that makes him sick, has kept him awake fighting demons he’s tried to hide. but lucius wouldn’t know that, would he?  he’d been too busy living in the grander scheme.  

           eight months.  that’s how long it took after the trails for draco to even step foot in that place.  every letter sent home tossed to the side, unopened ; and it makes his mother cry, because she tries … narcissa tries so hard.  

  ‘’ ——————       oh.   now you want to      talk       about    it ?            ‘’

            it’s venom soaked turpentine, nice and slow, nothing like the fire threatening to seize the breathe from his lungs.  no amount of time spent at st. mungos can cure the loss of innocence and the replace of something far darker.  every mirror shattered in the wake of bruised and bloodied fists.  

                            you always were just like your father, draco.  

      ‘’           don’t you think,       F A T H E R   ….   it’s a little too late ?   i’m FAR TOO GONE  from the pawn you wanted me to be.         ‘’

          Eight months. Eight months that his son, his only son had chosen to ignore every attempt of contact with him, that the boy who he knew had once looked up to him so had decided that he no longer did.  ------  Not that Lucius blamed him, even if such words would never be admitted, because still, as he sits behind bars in Azkaban, that ridiculous sense of pride still remains. The Dark Lord no longer around to make him feel small. And now here his son sat in front of him, and he could see it. See the damage done.

          All he’d done was inquire as to why Draco had not spoken to him about this state he seemed to be in...  Such a sharp tongue he received. 

          Though as always,   (  apart from that dark time when they were in fact prisoners in their own home  ),   features remained practically blank. Trained to be neutral. 

          “ I tried countless times, Draco, to be in contact with you, did you even read my letters? ”  He questioned. Though he was maintaining his cool exterior, and though affection wasn’t his strong suit, Lucius did care about his son’s well-being. 

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows {Sentence Starters}

@hadncchoice

          It was not a case of whether or not he thought Draco was aware of what the Death Eaters and The Dark Lord were capable of —–  since Draco’s sixth year, Lucius knew that his son had been subjected to a lot their antics, but stakes were becoming increasingly serious, and he did not want his son to let fear stand in his way. Not to mention, The Dark Lord did not look so fondly upon the Malfoy family anymore. So the patriarch thought it to be imperative that his son realize exactly how vital it was that they do as Voldemort asked, and that they be the ones to deliver Potter to him, that they be the ones to serve him well and impress him. 

          They would be on the winning side, and everything would go back to the way it should be for their family. No more of this playing servants to The Dark Lord whilst he took over the Manor. No, they would be respected again.