#ruinedsilver

ruinedsilver answered:

Lucius’ mother never passed away- Lucius is raised by her, as planned by his parents:

“Bonjour , bienvenue à Alphonse Chocolat . Nous nous spécialisons dans la magie améliorée chocolats , fait frais tous les jours par moi-même et ma mère.” He introduced her to the shop in elegant French, mentioning the chocolates were magically infused, and that they were made by him and his mother. He gestured to a portrait of a beautiful woman with jet black hair and eyes- her portrait did not move, as full Veela were not allowed to have moving photographs. While Lucius did not have her hair or eye color, he had her elegant features, and smooth, silky hair. “Je suis ici pour aider. Mon nom est Lucius Alphonsine.” He had his doubts that the young woman in front of the counter spoke French- their shop was in a busy tourist area of Paris. Many witches and wizards came here for a variety of beautiful goods.

It was then that he stopped and looked at her. It was possible she was a tourist.

“Eh… parlez vous Francais? English… a little.”

This was the first place she had entered since she had arrived in the magical side of Paris.  One would have believed it would have been the book store, which they would have been right but the witch’s urge to have something sweet had more weigh in her decision this time around.  When she entered the building a handsome cheery face welcomed her along with the delectable scent of chocolate.  She smiled at the wizard, looking up at the portrait he gestured too.  The woman was very beautiful and she could understand a little bit of who she was and what his name was, other than that she had no clue.  The translation charm she had cast didn’t work as she had hoped and trying to remember what she learned when she was younger was quite impossible.

“……..I was picking up my pen.” He looked at the discarded instrument beside his foot. Pens were rare in the magic world, and since Lucius’ partner hated quills, he eventually adapted to them as well.

They were too handy not to.

He eyed her with extreme caution as he leaned all the way over to try and grab his pen without bending. His legs were too long and the angle was too steep. He wound up spilling over the ground in a pile of auror robes and frustration. “Tell no one of this.”

“Why didn’t you just knelt down like this?”  She asked, bending her legs and squatting down picking up the discarded pen.  Then returned to her full height.  “It would have been much easier than what you were trying to do.”  Hermione told him, looking down at the pile of limbs and cloth on the floor.

                                                                                                   [ ♛ @ruinedsilver ♛]

Hᴇʀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀs sʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ɴᴇʀᴠᴏᴜs ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇs Pʀᴏғᴇssᴏʀ MᴄGᴏɴᴀɢᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴏʏ, Lᴜᴄɪᴜs Mᴀʟғᴏʏ. Tʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴏᴘ ʜᴇʀ ғɪᴅɢᴇᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀɴᴅs, sʜᴇ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛs, ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ. Oɴᴇ ɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏғᴇssᴏʀ sʜᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ's ᴇʏᴇs ᴅᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀʀɪᴅᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴘʀᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ Hᴇʀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟsᴏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ sʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ. Tʜᴇ Rᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ ғᴇʟᴛ ᴀ ғʟᴀsʜ ᴏғ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ sʜᴏᴏᴋ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ, ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇs ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ. Iғ MᴄGᴏɴᴀɢᴀʟʟ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ- ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ- ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ Hᴇᴀᴅ Gɪʀʟ, ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ. Tʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄʜᴀᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅɴᴇss ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴇᴘᴜᴛʏ Hᴇᴀᴅᴍɪsᴛʀᴇss’ ᴜɴᴡᴀᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴏғ Hᴇʀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ Hᴇᴀᴅ Gɪʀʟ. 

A ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴇᴀᴅ ǫᴜᴀʀᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ Hᴇʀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ sɪɢʜᴇᴅ. Tʜɪs ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ. Hᴇʀ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢʟᴀʀɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ. Sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ Hᴇᴀᴅ Gɪʀʟ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙʀɪɴɢ, ɴᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ǫᴜᴀʀᴛᴇʀs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴘᴜʀᴇʙʟᴏᴏᴅ. Sʜᴇ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʀᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴄʜᴀsᴛɪsɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ ғᴏʀ ᴊᴜᴅɢɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ʙʏ ɪᴛs ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ. Sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴜsᴘɪᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, sɪɴᴄᴇ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ Mᴀʟғᴏʏ sᴘᴇɴᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Nᴀʀᴄɪssᴀ Bʟᴀᴄᴋ, ᴄᴏɴsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴛʟʏ sᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Bᴇʟʟᴀᴛʀɪx, sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴡʜᴏᴍ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴜʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ - ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ - Vᴏʟᴅᴇᴍᴏʀᴛ’s ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs. 

As ᴛʜᴇʏ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴇᴀᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍs, Hᴇʀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴇғᴜʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ Mᴀʟғᴏʏ.

Surviving the second Wizarding war, Alastor had come out of retirement to help chase up the last of the Death Eaters or any new aspiring Dark Lords that were looking to ride on the coat tails of Voldermort.

It came as all the more surprise though, when Alastor found himself coming face to face with none other than Lucius Malfoy in the Auror Office. Had he not had warning from Kinglsey that the former right hand of the now deceased Voldermort was there as a new Auror, he might have brought out his wand, stunned him and dragged him to Azkaban himself.