Proud Traditions
Title: Proud Traditions
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG 13
Author's notes: Written for slythindor100's Christmas Challenge for the prompt: Chestnuts on an open fire and dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge 2014 with the prompts: Pureblood Yule traditions, mistletoe and fireplace.
Summary: Lucius sets out to protect his son's virtue.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Lucius surveyed the opulent banquet hall of his ancestral home with smug satisfaction. Despite all the unpleasantness of the War, the proud tradition of the Malfoy Yule Ball still held strong. The champagne was flowing, the music was soft and lilting and there was more than one important dignitary in the mix of guests. This, Lucius decided, would work out splendidly.
And then he turned around and it all went to Hades.
“Narcissa,” Lucius hissed, narrowing his eyes at the appalling scene unfolding before him. “What is that all about?”
“Hm?” Narcissa politely disengaged herself from Duchess Something-or-the-Other and glided over to his side. “What is it, darling?”
Lucius jerked his head to the right, indicating the source of his displeasure. “What on earth is he doing here? This affair is Invite Only!”
Potter stood a little ways off, chatting pleasantly with his son. Draco said something and Potter threw his head back and laughed. Then he slipped an arm- actually slipped an arm- around Draco’s shoulders and drew him closer. Lucius felt his fists clench and his fingers itch for his wand.
“Oh dear,” Narcissa sighed. “I was hoping you’d have a little more champagne in you before you came across them.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Now darling, do stay calm,” she said, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I...may have neglected to mention that Mr Potter has been...ahem, courting our Draco for the past several weeks.”
“What?!”
“Lucius!” Narcissa hissed urgently. “Lower your voice.”
“I forbid it,” Lucius snapped back. “There will be no courting! Potter is a no good scoundrel with a lineage befitting a troll! And Draco is barely of age.”
“Lucius, he’s twenty three,” Narcissa replied with a put upon sigh. “We were married and well on our way to starting a family at that age.”
That, understandably, did nothing to reassure Lucius. He turned around to glare daggers at Potter’s back...
...only to witness something truly unspeakable.
“They are kissing,” he managed in a furious sputter. “Narcissa, that vagabond is molesting my son in my own home!”
“Honestly,” Narcissa scolded. “They’re standing under the mistletoe, Lucius! It’s tradition. A Pureblood Yule tradition that our family has always treasured, I might add.”
She had him on a technicality. It wouldn't do to interfere with tradition. That was hardly the Malfoy way. Lucius grudgingly subsided, silently seething as he watched Potter wrap his free arm around Draco’s waist and indulge almost obscenely in the kiss. For Salazar’s sake! Was the boy ever going to come up for air or not?
“Just remember, darling,” Narcissa soothed him, with a smile in her voice. “It’s all part of a proud and glorious tradition.”
Potter of course, chose that exact moment to let a wayward hand trail downwards and squeeze Draco’s backside.
Draco squeaked in surprise, Narcissa blushed and Lucius quite literally saw red. Promptly, he disentangled himself from his wife, straightened his shoulders and marched off, preparing to defend the family honour from Potter’s vile intentions.
“Lucius!” Narcissa called after him in clear exasperation. “What on earth are you doing?!”
“Honouring a proud Yule tradition, my dear,” Lucius called back. “I’m going to roast Potter’s chestnuts on an open fire!”
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG 13
Author's notes: Written for slythindor100's Christmas Challenge for the prompt: Chestnuts on an open fire and dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge 2014 with the prompts: Pureblood Yule traditions, mistletoe and fireplace.
Summary: Lucius sets out to protect his son's virtue.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Lucius surveyed the opulent banquet hall of his ancestral home with smug satisfaction. Despite all the unpleasantness of the War, the proud tradition of the Malfoy Yule Ball still held strong. The champagne was flowing, the music was soft and lilting and there was more than one important dignitary in the mix of guests. This, Lucius decided, would work out splendidly.
And then he turned around and it all went to Hades.
“Narcissa,” Lucius hissed, narrowing his eyes at the appalling scene unfolding before him. “What is that all about?”
“Hm?” Narcissa politely disengaged herself from Duchess Something-or-the-Other and glided over to his side. “What is it, darling?”
Lucius jerked his head to the right, indicating the source of his displeasure. “What on earth is he doing here? This affair is Invite Only!”
Potter stood a little ways off, chatting pleasantly with his son. Draco said something and Potter threw his head back and laughed. Then he slipped an arm- actually slipped an arm- around Draco’s shoulders and drew him closer. Lucius felt his fists clench and his fingers itch for his wand.
“Oh dear,” Narcissa sighed. “I was hoping you’d have a little more champagne in you before you came across them.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Now darling, do stay calm,” she said, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I...may have neglected to mention that Mr Potter has been...ahem, courting our Draco for the past several weeks.”
“What?!”
“Lucius!” Narcissa hissed urgently. “Lower your voice.”
“I forbid it,” Lucius snapped back. “There will be no courting! Potter is a no good scoundrel with a lineage befitting a troll! And Draco is barely of age.”
“Lucius, he’s twenty three,” Narcissa replied with a put upon sigh. “We were married and well on our way to starting a family at that age.”
That, understandably, did nothing to reassure Lucius. He turned around to glare daggers at Potter’s back...
...only to witness something truly unspeakable.
“They are kissing,” he managed in a furious sputter. “Narcissa, that vagabond is molesting my son in my own home!”
“Honestly,” Narcissa scolded. “They’re standing under the mistletoe, Lucius! It’s tradition. A Pureblood Yule tradition that our family has always treasured, I might add.”
She had him on a technicality. It wouldn't do to interfere with tradition. That was hardly the Malfoy way. Lucius grudgingly subsided, silently seething as he watched Potter wrap his free arm around Draco’s waist and indulge almost obscenely in the kiss. For Salazar’s sake! Was the boy ever going to come up for air or not?
“Just remember, darling,” Narcissa soothed him, with a smile in her voice. “It’s all part of a proud and glorious tradition.”
Potter of course, chose that exact moment to let a wayward hand trail downwards and squeeze Draco’s backside.
Draco squeaked in surprise, Narcissa blushed and Lucius quite literally saw red. Promptly, he disentangled himself from his wife, straightened his shoulders and marched off, preparing to defend the family honour from Potter’s vile intentions.
“Lucius!” Narcissa called after him in clear exasperation. “What on earth are you doing?!”
“Honouring a proud Yule tradition, my dear,” Lucius called back. “I’m going to roast Potter’s chestnuts on an open fire!”