Fic for swissmarg
Author: briony_tallis
Recipient: swissmarg
Title: Of Bad Faith and Good Love
Pairing: Lucius/Luna
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2450
Summary: Draco Malfoy discovers (and doesn't discover) some disconcerting things about his family.
Author's Notes: I very much hope you like this, and thanks to my lovely readers!
Draco Malfoy pushed through the double doors and stomped down the hall with a terrible scowl on his face. He did not stop until he'd reached his mother, who was sitting at the very end of the very long table with a drink in her hand. "What is the meaning of this?" Draco demanded, slamming a folder onto the polished glass surface before her.
Narcissa gave him a withering look. "I presume this is about your father."
"Why wasn't I told?" He nearly stamped his foot on the floor with anger, but his days of acting like a spoiled child were (mostly) far behind him, and he settled for stabbing the folder with a pointed finger instead. "I have to find out like this? At work, in front of Potter, of all people?" He could almost feel his blood pressure rising with every syllable.
His mother seemed unfazed. "What your father chooses to do with his time is his own business."
Draco sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Well, yes, Mother, but couldn't he do it behind closed doors, like a normal person?" He flipped open the folder to reveal a series of newspaper clippings, each featuring rather large moving photographs of Lucius Malfoy with a familiar young blonde woman. "And with somebody else, please?" He could barely stand to look at it. "Anyone else?"
Narcissa glanced down at the clippings; her face tightened. "I have no control over his choice of mistress, Draco. If it bothers you so much, perhaps you ought to be speaking to him, not me." She gulped down her drink. "Now, please, remove the photos, darling. It's completely inappropriate at the table."
Draco snarled at his mother as he closed the folder and snatched it off the table. "As you wish," he said angrily, before turning sharply and walking back the way he'd come. "If you're just going to let him shame this family."
"Draco," Narcissa barked, and Draco stopped, looking back at his mother. "Do not dare to suggest that I am 'letting' your father do anything to ruin our reputation. We have an understanding, he and I, and if there is any shame involved, I will put a stop to it."
"Have you seen this?" Draco asked incredulously, holding up the folder. "It's Luna Lovegood, for Salazar's sake. She's an utter fruitcake! Tell me you remember."
Narcissa lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "You are free to speak to your father on the matter. I am no longer interested in continuing this conversation."
Draco frowned and tossed the folder to the floor, where the photographs spilled out across the shiny wooden paneling. "Whatever you say, Mother. I'll just leave you these to think about."
Narcissa Malfoy said nothing, but as soon as Draco had gone, she retrieved the papers off the floor and carefully fed each of them to the fire, one photo at a time.
*****
Speaking harshly to his mother was one thing, but for some reason, Draco was still terrified of confronting his father. Lucius Malfoy had a presence that transcended humanity; he was a god, hovering over the peons from his gilded throne. Or so Draco had always thought, which led to some nervous fumbling before Draco could manage to knock on the door.
"Enter," came the cold response, and Draco obeyed, sliding into the room cautiously and nodding deferentially to the man seated in the armchair. "Draco. What brings you?"
"Father." Draco swallowed hard, nearly forgetting his purpose. But the photographs were still swimming in his mind, and so he forced himself to speak. "I've seen the papers, Father."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Papers?"
His casual attitude infuriated Draco, though he hid the scowl from his face. "The pictures, Father. They've printed pictures. Of you and Lovegood."
"Ah." Lucius paused, steepling his fingers over his face. He closed his eyes briefly. "And?"
This was too much. "And it's ludicrous," Draco burst out, spreading his arms in shocked disbelief.
"How can you cavort about with Loony Lovegood, of all people? It's shameful."
Lucius barked out a harsh laugh and gripped the arms of his seat. "Malfoy men have been taking mistresses for generations, Draco. There is no shame in that."
"But it's Lovegood," Draco insisted.
A hardness came into Lucius's gaze, deeper and colder than his usual icy stare. "Don't underestimate her, Draco. She possesses a strength of character that you would do well to learn from."
This time, Draco could not hide his anger at the statement, and he scowled openly at his father. "You lecture me with her? You could have at least picked somebody older than your son to fuck."
"Draco, don't use such vulgar language to your father. Who I choose to spend my time with is none of your concern. If your mother doesn't see fit to complain, you hardly have the authority to speak to me in such a tone. I think you ought to leave, and reconsider your impudence."
"Ridiculous," Draco muttered, but he left without complaint, closing the door carefully behind him. He supposed he'd known about Malfoy mistresses, through old stories, but he'd never thought about his own parents that way. His mother had always seemed too proper to allow that sort of thing, and his father had seemed to have more sense than choosing a girl like Loony Luna to run about with. It wasn't as though he hated Luna; Draco had done his best to shed the immature misconceptions he'd had during the war. Still, it was Luna; even Potter thought she was strange, though he would never admit it to Draco.
Draco sighed and adjusted his cloak. He hadn't wanted to resort to the bottom step, but it seemed it was necessary. He'd have to pay a visit to Loony Lovegood.
*****
He cringed at the very sight of it, her rundown home with its haphazard trails of ivy crawling up the sides, with its uncut grass and the myriad of odd creatures scampering about. Draco thought he saw a Niffler or two on his way up the crooked path, and he clutched his robes tighter to his body. He felt slightly guilty, but he did remember a thing or two from Care of Magical Creatures, despite the pathetic state of the man running it, and he knew that a Niffler wouldn't hesitate to snatch at his money bag.
Draco peered in the window, where it appeared that a bouquet of large flowers had been placed on the sill, for he could see nothing but yellow, silken petals. His stomach clenched itself into a hard knot, for he knew not what he was getting himself into. But he was in Auror training; he couldn't let an odd house scare him. He knocked on the door.
Luna answered almost immediately, smiling at Draco as though he were an old friend. "Hello," she said cheerily, pulling the door wide open. "Come on in."
Draco looked about before awkwardly stepping into the home; he stood in the crowded kitchen and cleared his throat. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."
She never stopped smiling; it was becoming a little unsettling. "Not at all," she said, and stared at him for a moment, just smiling.
Draco tried to shudder without it being noticed, but it was incredibly difficult when she just kept staring at him like that. He drew himself up to his full height and put on a proper Malfoy Glare of Haughtiness. "It's about my father."
"Oh, I know," said Luna calmly, and she passed by Draco to approach the oven, the top of which was cluttered with books, clean plates, and dishes filled with unidentifiable foods with odd (yet not unpleasant) smells. "Would you like some tea? I've got a lovely recipe, I know you'll like it." She swept the mess casually off the stove, pushing it in piles onto the adjacent counter.
Draco wasn't sure he'd like any of Lovegood's recipes. "Er, no, that's quite all right," he said. "About my father."
"Oh, yes, Lucius." Draco flinched at her use of the name. "He is a lovely man, incredibly sweet. He was so worried about you finding out about us, the poor man. But you'll have to understand, won't you, Draco?"
"No, I won't," Draco said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's completely inappropriate for him to be carrying on with you. It's improper."
Luna laughed lightly as she placed a tea kettle on the stove. "You aren't very open-minded, are you, Draco? Lucius assures me that there is nothing improper about it." She turned and looked at him again, her unnaturally-wide eyes growing ever wider, until Draco was sure they would pop right out of her skull. "We have a connection," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "It's perfectly natural."
"But he's married," Draco stressed, holding his ground, despite his desperate urge to back away.
"Oh, marriage," said Luna. "It's very nice, isn't it? But there's nothing wrong with having close friends outside marriage, is there? Your mother doesn't mind at all."
Draco pictured the hard look on his mother's face when she'd heard the name of Lovegood. "I'm not so certain about that." Luna just smiled at him, and his resolve burst. "Look, he'll hurt you," he said, the truth spewing out of him. "He's cruel, and arrogant, and he'll break your heart. He's not a changed man, he's still the Death Eater he's always been. He'll eat you alive and laugh over the remains, he and my mother both. He's a Malfoy; trust me, I know Malfoys." He felt stupid and naked, standing in this strange kitchen with Luna's ever-widening gaze and the odd smell of what was sure to be a very disgusting tea beginning to waft over their heads. He felt like he was thirteen-years-old again, crumbling to dust under one of his father's many angry lectures about being a proper Malfoy. "I know," he said again, looking down at the floor. There were gold links painted in the spaces between the tiles; he thought, distantly, that it actually looked rather nice.
Luna placed a hand on his arm, and Draco, startled, looked up at her wildly. She still looked as calm and as happy as ever; he wondered how she did it, how she always stayed so serene. "You don't understand," she said softly. "He's a prisoner, just as I was. You remember, when I stayed in your home for a bit?"
A harsh laugh burst out of his throat. "Oh, yes, when you just decided to stay with us," he said sarcastically. "What a lovely way of putting it."
"He helped me, in the cellar," she said, and Draco stared at her in utter disbelief, which only made her smile wider. "He helped me, and now I'm helping him. It's only fair, after all. And he's really quite lovely, if you only get to know him."
He spluttered in disbelief. "If I only - if I get to know him? Luna, what - you are, you're just - I can't believe it," and he turned away, muttering to himself like a madman, as though he were about to join Lovegood's own little corner of St. Mungo's. "If I only get to know him, my own father. She's barking, she's barking mad, she is." He whirled about, facing her yet again, and she stood in the same spot, one hand on the kettle as she smiled at him, and it was infuriating. "Fine," he snapped. "Have it your way. You'll ruin us all, you will." He sneered at her. "Have a lovely day."
"Oh, you're not staying for tea?" Luna asked calmly, seeming not to notice that Draco was angry and falling apart.
"Perhaps another time," he said, somehow managing not to burst into manic laughter. He needed to get out of there; he needed air. "Good luck, Luna." He stormed out of the room, out the door and over the grass, where something small and furry and unrecognizable scurried over his shoes. "Madness," he said, and Disapparated quickly, before she came after him with her smile and her foul-smelling tea.
*****
It was about an hour later when the bell rang. Luna set aside her cup of tea and went slowly to the door, half-expecting it to be Draco again, ready to lecture and splutter at her some more. It had been rather funny; she would have welcomed a second visit. But it was not Draco at the door. It was Lucius.
"Oh, hello," Luna said brightly, ushering the older Malfoy in quickly. "I wasn't expecting you yet."
"It is hard, being away from you," said Lucius, and he touched Luna's chin gently as he walked past. "Is that your tea I smell?"
"I left you a cup," Luna said, closing the front door and following Lucius into the kitchen.
"Thank you," Lucius said, helping himself to the kettle. "I do love your tea." He poured himself a cup and sat down heavily at the table. "Luna, I am distraught."
"Draco was here," Luna replied, sitting beside him and placing her hand over his. "Is it about him? He was rather upset. One of those, you know, so narrow-minded. He said you would hurt me."
"Did he." Lucius cautiously sipped his tea. "And you don't believe him?"
"No, I don't. We know one another." Luna smiled at him. "I can see things that others can't. I always have."
Lucius looked at her with sad eyes. "Yes, you do, my dear." He sighed. "It makes me so weary, Luna, to play these games, pretending to be someone else. It's tiresome." He smiled at her. "I am lucky to have found you."
Luna moved her hand to his cheek. "We're all prisoners sometimes," she said quietly. "But you'll break free someday. I know it."
"I am a Malfoy," said Lucius. "I have a reputation to uphold. For the most part, it suits me to have such an aura. Keeps me from suspicion and pity. For now, I am happy to be myself with only you. For now."
"You'll break free someday," Luna said again with a smile. She rose from the table and held out her hand. "We'll lie together."
"All right." Lucius took her hand and allowed her to lead him, allowed her to take him once more under her wing. He couldn't turn to his family, Narcissa with her cold stares and Draco's restless frustration. It was Luna's warmth he craved, and he wouldn't hurt her for the world. Let Draco think what he wished; Lucius would keep this secret to himself for a while longer. They had taken his picture, but they would never see his heart.
And so she held him.
Recipient: swissmarg
Title: Of Bad Faith and Good Love
Pairing: Lucius/Luna
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2450
Summary: Draco Malfoy discovers (and doesn't discover) some disconcerting things about his family.
Author's Notes: I very much hope you like this, and thanks to my lovely readers!
Draco Malfoy pushed through the double doors and stomped down the hall with a terrible scowl on his face. He did not stop until he'd reached his mother, who was sitting at the very end of the very long table with a drink in her hand. "What is the meaning of this?" Draco demanded, slamming a folder onto the polished glass surface before her.
Narcissa gave him a withering look. "I presume this is about your father."
"Why wasn't I told?" He nearly stamped his foot on the floor with anger, but his days of acting like a spoiled child were (mostly) far behind him, and he settled for stabbing the folder with a pointed finger instead. "I have to find out like this? At work, in front of Potter, of all people?" He could almost feel his blood pressure rising with every syllable.
His mother seemed unfazed. "What your father chooses to do with his time is his own business."
Draco sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Well, yes, Mother, but couldn't he do it behind closed doors, like a normal person?" He flipped open the folder to reveal a series of newspaper clippings, each featuring rather large moving photographs of Lucius Malfoy with a familiar young blonde woman. "And with somebody else, please?" He could barely stand to look at it. "Anyone else?"
Narcissa glanced down at the clippings; her face tightened. "I have no control over his choice of mistress, Draco. If it bothers you so much, perhaps you ought to be speaking to him, not me." She gulped down her drink. "Now, please, remove the photos, darling. It's completely inappropriate at the table."
Draco snarled at his mother as he closed the folder and snatched it off the table. "As you wish," he said angrily, before turning sharply and walking back the way he'd come. "If you're just going to let him shame this family."
"Draco," Narcissa barked, and Draco stopped, looking back at his mother. "Do not dare to suggest that I am 'letting' your father do anything to ruin our reputation. We have an understanding, he and I, and if there is any shame involved, I will put a stop to it."
"Have you seen this?" Draco asked incredulously, holding up the folder. "It's Luna Lovegood, for Salazar's sake. She's an utter fruitcake! Tell me you remember."
Narcissa lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. "You are free to speak to your father on the matter. I am no longer interested in continuing this conversation."
Draco frowned and tossed the folder to the floor, where the photographs spilled out across the shiny wooden paneling. "Whatever you say, Mother. I'll just leave you these to think about."
Narcissa Malfoy said nothing, but as soon as Draco had gone, she retrieved the papers off the floor and carefully fed each of them to the fire, one photo at a time.
*****
Speaking harshly to his mother was one thing, but for some reason, Draco was still terrified of confronting his father. Lucius Malfoy had a presence that transcended humanity; he was a god, hovering over the peons from his gilded throne. Or so Draco had always thought, which led to some nervous fumbling before Draco could manage to knock on the door.
"Enter," came the cold response, and Draco obeyed, sliding into the room cautiously and nodding deferentially to the man seated in the armchair. "Draco. What brings you?"
"Father." Draco swallowed hard, nearly forgetting his purpose. But the photographs were still swimming in his mind, and so he forced himself to speak. "I've seen the papers, Father."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Papers?"
His casual attitude infuriated Draco, though he hid the scowl from his face. "The pictures, Father. They've printed pictures. Of you and Lovegood."
"Ah." Lucius paused, steepling his fingers over his face. He closed his eyes briefly. "And?"
This was too much. "And it's ludicrous," Draco burst out, spreading his arms in shocked disbelief.
"How can you cavort about with Loony Lovegood, of all people? It's shameful."
Lucius barked out a harsh laugh and gripped the arms of his seat. "Malfoy men have been taking mistresses for generations, Draco. There is no shame in that."
"But it's Lovegood," Draco insisted.
A hardness came into Lucius's gaze, deeper and colder than his usual icy stare. "Don't underestimate her, Draco. She possesses a strength of character that you would do well to learn from."
This time, Draco could not hide his anger at the statement, and he scowled openly at his father. "You lecture me with her? You could have at least picked somebody older than your son to fuck."
"Draco, don't use such vulgar language to your father. Who I choose to spend my time with is none of your concern. If your mother doesn't see fit to complain, you hardly have the authority to speak to me in such a tone. I think you ought to leave, and reconsider your impudence."
"Ridiculous," Draco muttered, but he left without complaint, closing the door carefully behind him. He supposed he'd known about Malfoy mistresses, through old stories, but he'd never thought about his own parents that way. His mother had always seemed too proper to allow that sort of thing, and his father had seemed to have more sense than choosing a girl like Loony Luna to run about with. It wasn't as though he hated Luna; Draco had done his best to shed the immature misconceptions he'd had during the war. Still, it was Luna; even Potter thought she was strange, though he would never admit it to Draco.
Draco sighed and adjusted his cloak. He hadn't wanted to resort to the bottom step, but it seemed it was necessary. He'd have to pay a visit to Loony Lovegood.
*****
He cringed at the very sight of it, her rundown home with its haphazard trails of ivy crawling up the sides, with its uncut grass and the myriad of odd creatures scampering about. Draco thought he saw a Niffler or two on his way up the crooked path, and he clutched his robes tighter to his body. He felt slightly guilty, but he did remember a thing or two from Care of Magical Creatures, despite the pathetic state of the man running it, and he knew that a Niffler wouldn't hesitate to snatch at his money bag.
Draco peered in the window, where it appeared that a bouquet of large flowers had been placed on the sill, for he could see nothing but yellow, silken petals. His stomach clenched itself into a hard knot, for he knew not what he was getting himself into. But he was in Auror training; he couldn't let an odd house scare him. He knocked on the door.
Luna answered almost immediately, smiling at Draco as though he were an old friend. "Hello," she said cheerily, pulling the door wide open. "Come on in."
Draco looked about before awkwardly stepping into the home; he stood in the crowded kitchen and cleared his throat. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."
She never stopped smiling; it was becoming a little unsettling. "Not at all," she said, and stared at him for a moment, just smiling.
Draco tried to shudder without it being noticed, but it was incredibly difficult when she just kept staring at him like that. He drew himself up to his full height and put on a proper Malfoy Glare of Haughtiness. "It's about my father."
"Oh, I know," said Luna calmly, and she passed by Draco to approach the oven, the top of which was cluttered with books, clean plates, and dishes filled with unidentifiable foods with odd (yet not unpleasant) smells. "Would you like some tea? I've got a lovely recipe, I know you'll like it." She swept the mess casually off the stove, pushing it in piles onto the adjacent counter.
Draco wasn't sure he'd like any of Lovegood's recipes. "Er, no, that's quite all right," he said. "About my father."
"Oh, yes, Lucius." Draco flinched at her use of the name. "He is a lovely man, incredibly sweet. He was so worried about you finding out about us, the poor man. But you'll have to understand, won't you, Draco?"
"No, I won't," Draco said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's completely inappropriate for him to be carrying on with you. It's improper."
Luna laughed lightly as she placed a tea kettle on the stove. "You aren't very open-minded, are you, Draco? Lucius assures me that there is nothing improper about it." She turned and looked at him again, her unnaturally-wide eyes growing ever wider, until Draco was sure they would pop right out of her skull. "We have a connection," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "It's perfectly natural."
"But he's married," Draco stressed, holding his ground, despite his desperate urge to back away.
"Oh, marriage," said Luna. "It's very nice, isn't it? But there's nothing wrong with having close friends outside marriage, is there? Your mother doesn't mind at all."
Draco pictured the hard look on his mother's face when she'd heard the name of Lovegood. "I'm not so certain about that." Luna just smiled at him, and his resolve burst. "Look, he'll hurt you," he said, the truth spewing out of him. "He's cruel, and arrogant, and he'll break your heart. He's not a changed man, he's still the Death Eater he's always been. He'll eat you alive and laugh over the remains, he and my mother both. He's a Malfoy; trust me, I know Malfoys." He felt stupid and naked, standing in this strange kitchen with Luna's ever-widening gaze and the odd smell of what was sure to be a very disgusting tea beginning to waft over their heads. He felt like he was thirteen-years-old again, crumbling to dust under one of his father's many angry lectures about being a proper Malfoy. "I know," he said again, looking down at the floor. There were gold links painted in the spaces between the tiles; he thought, distantly, that it actually looked rather nice.
Luna placed a hand on his arm, and Draco, startled, looked up at her wildly. She still looked as calm and as happy as ever; he wondered how she did it, how she always stayed so serene. "You don't understand," she said softly. "He's a prisoner, just as I was. You remember, when I stayed in your home for a bit?"
A harsh laugh burst out of his throat. "Oh, yes, when you just decided to stay with us," he said sarcastically. "What a lovely way of putting it."
"He helped me, in the cellar," she said, and Draco stared at her in utter disbelief, which only made her smile wider. "He helped me, and now I'm helping him. It's only fair, after all. And he's really quite lovely, if you only get to know him."
He spluttered in disbelief. "If I only - if I get to know him? Luna, what - you are, you're just - I can't believe it," and he turned away, muttering to himself like a madman, as though he were about to join Lovegood's own little corner of St. Mungo's. "If I only get to know him, my own father. She's barking, she's barking mad, she is." He whirled about, facing her yet again, and she stood in the same spot, one hand on the kettle as she smiled at him, and it was infuriating. "Fine," he snapped. "Have it your way. You'll ruin us all, you will." He sneered at her. "Have a lovely day."
"Oh, you're not staying for tea?" Luna asked calmly, seeming not to notice that Draco was angry and falling apart.
"Perhaps another time," he said, somehow managing not to burst into manic laughter. He needed to get out of there; he needed air. "Good luck, Luna." He stormed out of the room, out the door and over the grass, where something small and furry and unrecognizable scurried over his shoes. "Madness," he said, and Disapparated quickly, before she came after him with her smile and her foul-smelling tea.
*****
It was about an hour later when the bell rang. Luna set aside her cup of tea and went slowly to the door, half-expecting it to be Draco again, ready to lecture and splutter at her some more. It had been rather funny; she would have welcomed a second visit. But it was not Draco at the door. It was Lucius.
"Oh, hello," Luna said brightly, ushering the older Malfoy in quickly. "I wasn't expecting you yet."
"It is hard, being away from you," said Lucius, and he touched Luna's chin gently as he walked past. "Is that your tea I smell?"
"I left you a cup," Luna said, closing the front door and following Lucius into the kitchen.
"Thank you," Lucius said, helping himself to the kettle. "I do love your tea." He poured himself a cup and sat down heavily at the table. "Luna, I am distraught."
"Draco was here," Luna replied, sitting beside him and placing her hand over his. "Is it about him? He was rather upset. One of those, you know, so narrow-minded. He said you would hurt me."
"Did he." Lucius cautiously sipped his tea. "And you don't believe him?"
"No, I don't. We know one another." Luna smiled at him. "I can see things that others can't. I always have."
Lucius looked at her with sad eyes. "Yes, you do, my dear." He sighed. "It makes me so weary, Luna, to play these games, pretending to be someone else. It's tiresome." He smiled at her. "I am lucky to have found you."
Luna moved her hand to his cheek. "We're all prisoners sometimes," she said quietly. "But you'll break free someday. I know it."
"I am a Malfoy," said Lucius. "I have a reputation to uphold. For the most part, it suits me to have such an aura. Keeps me from suspicion and pity. For now, I am happy to be myself with only you. For now."
"You'll break free someday," Luna said again with a smile. She rose from the table and held out her hand. "We'll lie together."
"All right." Lucius took her hand and allowed her to lead him, allowed her to take him once more under her wing. He couldn't turn to his family, Narcissa with her cold stares and Draco's restless frustration. It was Luna's warmth he craved, and he wouldn't hurt her for the world. Let Draco think what he wished; Lucius would keep this secret to himself for a while longer. They had taken his picture, but they would never see his heart.
And so she held him.