Lucius Scipio Malfoy
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Post: 55686591_1 created on Sat Oct 31, 2009 2:23 amPosted: Sat Oct 31, 2009 2:23 am
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Prologue: The Letters “Apollina’s Hogwarts letter has come,” Narcissa Malfoy said that night over dinner. “Shall we send a demurral or simply ignore it?” Her husband, Lucius - looking healthier than at any point during the last two years, but still too thin and rather paler than he should’ve been - finished chewing in a thoughtful manner before he answered. “Why demur at all? We’re certainly not going to send her to Durmstrang, it’s an all-boys school. And Beauxbatons is too far away. Plus, I don’t like the curriculum. Focuses too much on ‘behaving like a lady’ and not enough on actual schoolwork.” Narcissa lay down her fork at once. Her suddenly stiff posture was the only indication of the intense anxiety that gripped her, because she kept her face and voice studiously neutral. “You intend to accept her invitation? Start sending her away for the better part of each year?” “We have to start letting her grow up sometime, dearest,” Lucius replied gently. Draco, on the sidelines up until now - quite literally, as he sat between his parents who sat at the head and foot of the long dinner table - suddenly spoke up. “Father, you can’t send Apple to school. She’s not strong enough to handle what they’ll throw at her there. Who’ll protect her?” “She’s stronger than you think. She’s not the sickly little baby she once was; if we go on as we’ve done, keeping her locked up tight, thinking she’ll break if we look at her wrong, then she’s going to get sick again. She needs to get out, run around, play with other children, soak up the sunshine. She’ll never get that here, even if we ever manage to break this bad habit we have of treating her like bone porcelain.” “But Father, at school they’ll…they’ll…” “Speak up, boy,” Lucius said, not unkindly. Draco hung his head. “They’ll hate her because she’s a Malfoy,” he finished. Lucius lay down his own fork. “Yes, many of them will. Most of them, probably. But Apple isn’t like the rest of us - I don’t know if it’s because we’ve kept her hidden from our own ugliness or if she was just born that way. Eventually, they’ll start to see that she‘s a good girl. It won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be.” He planted his hands firmly on the table and stood up. “I won’t let it get that bad.” From the inner pocket of his robes he withdrew a heavy parchment envelope and tossed it onto the table. It skidded down the slickly polished surface and came to a stop just past Draco, in the middle. “I got my own acceptance letter today,” Lucius said. Draco picked up the letter gingerly, as though expecting a shock or a bite. He opened it up and read the short note inside, then passed it on to his mother, looking shell-shocked. Narcissa read the letter once, shook her head as if to clear it of wrackspurts, and read it again. “Lucius, what in the world can this mean?” she asked at last. “I would’ve thought it spoke for itself very clearly. I’ve been accepted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. On probationary trial.” “You…applied for this position?” “I did. Most of the teachers we supplanted last year have come back to teach this year - those that lived, anyway. But McGonagall couldn’t find anyone to teach Defense - probably lingering fears about the Dark Lord’s curse. I applied, she and the school governors accepted.” “But Dad - what about the Dark Lord’s curse?” Draco blurted. “Then I guess they’ll have to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher next year,” Lucius said calmly. “Frankly, I doubt the curse is still in effect - the Dark Lord is dead, after all. But if it does still exist, only two past teachers ended up dead-or-worse. I can’t imagine anything more terrible than being laid off happening to me this year.” “Severus…” Narcissa reminded gently. “Severus was killed a full year after teaching the class, dearest - and being that close to…Voldemort - “ his family winced - “the only great surprise about his death was that we didn’t all follow right behind him.” “Well, why don’t they get Potter to teach Defense? Surely he’s not afraid of the Dark Lord’s curse?” Draco said. “Harry Potter is currently undergoing a special course of Ministry certification, both to make up for the year of schooling, and more importantly, the N.E.W.T. exams he missed, and to train as an Auror. They’re pretty desperate to bolster their ranks, since they lost so many. I think they would’ve taken him on green if he hadn’t insisted on getting a bit more education first. Most people don’t think he needs any more testing, considering he defeated the greatest Dark Wizard in centuries. I personally think he’s in the right; he won’t have the advantages against other Dark Wizards that he had against…Voldemort…and he can’t expect to be able to kill just anyone with a basic Disarming Spell.” “But why you, Lucius? Surely someone else would take the position if they were offered it? Why on earth did you apply?” Narcissa demanded. “Why, to draw unfriendly attention away from Apple, of course,” Lucius said, with an expression of mild surprise. “I knew she was sure to get her letter this year, and it’s much too soon to expect that everyone would forgive and forget, like the Ministry was willing to do for us. You and I know that none of us was directly responsible for the death of any Witch, Wizard, or Muggle since the Dark Lord’s return to power, and the Ministry found in our favor on that as well. But public opinion doesn’t have much to do with fact, and less with court rulings. Draco and I were Death Eaters; I confessed to acts of torture committed in the past; I spent six months of a life sentence in Azkaban and was allowed to walk free after all was said and done. That isn’t going to be easily forgiven. I’d much rather have the animosity of teachers and children directed at me than Apple.” “But Apple is a defenseless little girl, not a grown man,” Narcissa pointed out. “Teachers might - and I stress might - be willing to overlook her family connections and treat Apple like any other student, but the students certainly aren’t going to direct their hostilities at a teacher when there’s a helpless target handy.” Lucius drew himself up tall and straight. “You forget - or were unaware - that in the past year or so it has become widely known that I, my dearest, am a spineless coward. Even the most cautious of schoolyard bullies won’t be able to resist the temptation of being able to be rude and obnoxious little gits toward a teacher with perfect impunity. And of course, if I were to jinx one of the little buggers I’d lose my job in a heartbeat, and probably end up back in Azkaban, to boot. No, my dear, I believe I can expect my fair share of hard times at Hogwarts.” He sat back down and returned to his interrupted meal. “And besides, I’ll be there to watch out for Apple and make sure the little bastards don’t handle her too roughly. Even if they won’t respect my authority, they’ll respect McGonagall’s, and as a teacher I can report them directly to her. I already have her assurance that she won’t stand for anyone, student or staff, treating Apple badly just because I’m her father.” Narcissa turned her attention back to her own plate, though not with any real interest. “So, Minerva accepted the position of Headmistress, then?” “For now. She wants to retire soon, I think, so she’s got them on the lookout for new candidates.” “Who will be teaching Transfiguration this year, then?” Lucius dropped his fork and wiped his mouth and hands carefully. “I almost forgot to tell you,” he said, reaching into his inner pockets again. He pulled out another Hogwart’s letter and tossed it down the long table to his wife. “You are.” |
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