Back to School
Who: Lucius and Draco
What: Talking about Draco's impending return to Hogwarts
When: Sunday, 2 November 1997, eveningish
Where: Malfoy Manor
Status: Incomplete
He had, Lucius decided, truly not appreciated his library fully in past years.
Where else could he sit for hours at a time, surrounded by the collected wisdom, culture, and philosophy of near-countless generations of wizards, and pick and choose at his leisure what to immerse himself in next? And where else was he nearly certain to be undisturbed as he did so, but for the occasional entrance of an elf, come to bring him his refreshment?
He sat there that day, comfortable in his wing-backed leather armchair, a volume of eleventh-century wandlore in his hand and a cup of orange and cinnamon tea steaming on the table at his side, and smiled contentedly. Things were beginning to fall into place, it seemed.
Which reminded him, he needed to speak with his son about the way things were going to fall into place very soon. Draco had expressed his ambivalence about returning to Hogwarts, and Lucius wished to talk to him about his future. After all, he reasoned as he placed a page marker in his book and got up from the chair to seek his son out, every undertaking needed some sort of plan. And something as important as his son's future needed strict attention. He needed to be in school, whether he realized it or not. And besides, he thought as he strode through the halls towards Draco's door, the further away from the Dark Lord he was at this time, the better.
No need to tempt fate, after all.
What: Talking about Draco's impending return to Hogwarts
When: Sunday, 2 November 1997, eveningish
Where: Malfoy Manor
Status: Incomplete
He had, Lucius decided, truly not appreciated his library fully in past years.
Where else could he sit for hours at a time, surrounded by the collected wisdom, culture, and philosophy of near-countless generations of wizards, and pick and choose at his leisure what to immerse himself in next? And where else was he nearly certain to be undisturbed as he did so, but for the occasional entrance of an elf, come to bring him his refreshment?
He sat there that day, comfortable in his wing-backed leather armchair, a volume of eleventh-century wandlore in his hand and a cup of orange and cinnamon tea steaming on the table at his side, and smiled contentedly. Things were beginning to fall into place, it seemed.
Which reminded him, he needed to speak with his son about the way things were going to fall into place very soon. Draco had expressed his ambivalence about returning to Hogwarts, and Lucius wished to talk to him about his future. After all, he reasoned as he placed a page marker in his book and got up from the chair to seek his son out, every undertaking needed some sort of plan. And something as important as his son's future needed strict attention. He needed to be in school, whether he realized it or not. And besides, he thought as he strode through the halls towards Draco's door, the further away from the Dark Lord he was at this time, the better.
No need to tempt fate, after all.