FICLET: War Trials (Lucius/Amos)
Title: War Trials
Character Pairing: Lucius/Amos
Prompt: idiosyncrasies
Rating: PG
Word Count: 794
Summary: Amos knew all the little idiosyncrasies of Lucius Malfoy's heart, despite his desperate wish not to.
Author's Notes: And it begins again! The first fic of my third and final Lucius/Amos table.
Link to Prompt Table: http://briony-tallis.livejournal.com/57921.html
Days and days of war trials accompanied by heavy rainfall; it was nearly poetic. Amos had drawn the blinds in his office to block out the darkness, lighting both lamps in the room so that he could work on his papers properly. As part of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos didn't have much to do with the war anymore. Oh, he'd joined in the werewolf hunts and filed endless paperwork on the giant rebellion, but now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated, Amos had gone thankfully back to business as usual.
Not that he had ever experienced "business as usual" before; he had joined the Ministry in the midst of the war, and had been surrounded by it daily since the beginning. It was almost enough to send him packing; he was plagued by the constant fear of the Dark Ones. He had learned fairly quickly that the Dark Lord's followers called themselves Death Eaters, but still the old Hogwarts name for them lurked in the back of Amos's head. Many things lurked back there.
Amos swallowed hard and emerged cautiously from his office. He had a report due today on Fenrir Greyback, a legendary werewolf and suspected Death Eater; the as-yet-fruitless search for Greyback was one of the only war-related tasks Amos still tended to. He had an obligation to catch the fiend and bring him to justice, and Amos knew that if he succeeded he would surely be given a promotion of sorts. It was his dream to gain greatness within the Ministry, and he would not be put off turning in paperwork merely because of the path to get there.
He was terrified of the War Corridor, as he had termed it in his head, the hall filled with Wizengamot chambers where the captured Death Eaters awaited their fates. Amos had been instructed to deliver all war-related paperwork directly to those in charge of the Death Eater investigations, who were currently residing on Level Ten, overseeing the trials. Amos did not like visiting this level. If anyone were to notice his hesitation, he would simply claim to be disgusted by the evil souls present. Even after leaving Hogwarts, he had not stopped lying to himself.
Amos took a deep breath and stepped off the lift, walking purposely towards his destination. Mr. Bartemius Crouch, head of the Aurors and a highly respected Wizard, had specifically requested that all information on Greyback be placed into his hands, and Amos knew he sat in on all the war trials. He simply had to wait in the corridor. It was easy, and it was certainly not possible that he would ever run into anyone he could not ever want to see.
When spending so much time with another person, connected to him in a way that cannot even be named, one grows to learn much about that person. Amos knew all the little idiosyncrasies of Lucius Malfoy's heart, despite his desperate wish not to. And so it was obvious who sat beyond Amos in the trial chamber; Amos could hear his silky protestations as he neared the door. It didn't matter that he couldn't make out the exact words being said; he knew Lucius's voice better than his very own. He knew the Malfoy tone of arrogance; he could practically smell the intoxicating Malfoy magic.
Amos closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the wall, taking frightened, shallow breaths. The world was out to get him; surely that had to be so, for what chance was there that Malfoy could be sitting here today? Amos had to leave. He had promised himself he would never lay eyes upon Lucius again, and he intended to keep that promise, Ministry work be damned.
He had just turned to go when the door opened. Amos froze as Lucius Malfoy walked out of his own accord, looking as impeccably handsome and well-dressed as always. Lucius's eyes swept over Amos with a cold indifference, and then he was gone, walking away as calm as could be.
"I tell you, he's a liar," came the grumbling voice of Auror Alastor Moody, as he exited with two fellow wizards. "Malfoy money is all that's saved him, the bastard."
"Ah, Mr. Diggory." Bartemius Crouch stood before him. "You bring reports, I assume." He held his hand out, and slowly his eyes narrowed. "Diggory, you all right? The reports, please."
Amos shook himself out of his trance and handed the reports over, his face flushing as he did so. "Yes, sir."
Crouch nodded shortly. "Thank you." He turned to go. "Don't let the failures get you down, Diggory. We'll get them all eventually."
The only failure that mattered to Amos just then was Lucius's failure to speak to him.
Character Pairing: Lucius/Amos
Prompt: idiosyncrasies
Rating: PG
Word Count: 794
Summary: Amos knew all the little idiosyncrasies of Lucius Malfoy's heart, despite his desperate wish not to.
Author's Notes: And it begins again! The first fic of my third and final Lucius/Amos table.
Link to Prompt Table: http://briony-tallis.livejournal.com/57921.html
Days and days of war trials accompanied by heavy rainfall; it was nearly poetic. Amos had drawn the blinds in his office to block out the darkness, lighting both lamps in the room so that he could work on his papers properly. As part of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos didn't have much to do with the war anymore. Oh, he'd joined in the werewolf hunts and filed endless paperwork on the giant rebellion, but now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated, Amos had gone thankfully back to business as usual.
Not that he had ever experienced "business as usual" before; he had joined the Ministry in the midst of the war, and had been surrounded by it daily since the beginning. It was almost enough to send him packing; he was plagued by the constant fear of the Dark Ones. He had learned fairly quickly that the Dark Lord's followers called themselves Death Eaters, but still the old Hogwarts name for them lurked in the back of Amos's head. Many things lurked back there.
Amos swallowed hard and emerged cautiously from his office. He had a report due today on Fenrir Greyback, a legendary werewolf and suspected Death Eater; the as-yet-fruitless search for Greyback was one of the only war-related tasks Amos still tended to. He had an obligation to catch the fiend and bring him to justice, and Amos knew that if he succeeded he would surely be given a promotion of sorts. It was his dream to gain greatness within the Ministry, and he would not be put off turning in paperwork merely because of the path to get there.
He was terrified of the War Corridor, as he had termed it in his head, the hall filled with Wizengamot chambers where the captured Death Eaters awaited their fates. Amos had been instructed to deliver all war-related paperwork directly to those in charge of the Death Eater investigations, who were currently residing on Level Ten, overseeing the trials. Amos did not like visiting this level. If anyone were to notice his hesitation, he would simply claim to be disgusted by the evil souls present. Even after leaving Hogwarts, he had not stopped lying to himself.
Amos took a deep breath and stepped off the lift, walking purposely towards his destination. Mr. Bartemius Crouch, head of the Aurors and a highly respected Wizard, had specifically requested that all information on Greyback be placed into his hands, and Amos knew he sat in on all the war trials. He simply had to wait in the corridor. It was easy, and it was certainly not possible that he would ever run into anyone he could not ever want to see.
When spending so much time with another person, connected to him in a way that cannot even be named, one grows to learn much about that person. Amos knew all the little idiosyncrasies of Lucius Malfoy's heart, despite his desperate wish not to. And so it was obvious who sat beyond Amos in the trial chamber; Amos could hear his silky protestations as he neared the door. It didn't matter that he couldn't make out the exact words being said; he knew Lucius's voice better than his very own. He knew the Malfoy tone of arrogance; he could practically smell the intoxicating Malfoy magic.
Amos closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the wall, taking frightened, shallow breaths. The world was out to get him; surely that had to be so, for what chance was there that Malfoy could be sitting here today? Amos had to leave. He had promised himself he would never lay eyes upon Lucius again, and he intended to keep that promise, Ministry work be damned.
He had just turned to go when the door opened. Amos froze as Lucius Malfoy walked out of his own accord, looking as impeccably handsome and well-dressed as always. Lucius's eyes swept over Amos with a cold indifference, and then he was gone, walking away as calm as could be.
"I tell you, he's a liar," came the grumbling voice of Auror Alastor Moody, as he exited with two fellow wizards. "Malfoy money is all that's saved him, the bastard."
"Ah, Mr. Diggory." Bartemius Crouch stood before him. "You bring reports, I assume." He held his hand out, and slowly his eyes narrowed. "Diggory, you all right? The reports, please."
Amos shook himself out of his trance and handed the reports over, his face flushing as he did so. "Yes, sir."
Crouch nodded shortly. "Thank you." He turned to go. "Don't let the failures get you down, Diggory. We'll get them all eventually."
The only failure that mattered to Amos just then was Lucius's failure to speak to him.