Midnight

And in the dark, he sits alone,

To watch his final hours bleeding.

While unconcerned upon the wall,

The clock it ticks away the time.

The intertwined fingers twisted into a snare that caught at his heart. Those pale fingers would never be undone, and could keep his secrets there forever. The secrets many tried to dig up, the secrets he kept so far down, in the recesses of his heart.

The shadows flitted around the walls, their translucent forms wrapping themselves around him, whispering in his ear. Lucius concentrated on his fingers, his mind clouded with thoughts, and memories. He tried to wet his lips, to force a sound out of them. But they would not come. The cold of Azkaban was chilling his heart, filling his throat, and choking out sound.

No need for words, for in the dark,

All words have long since lost their meaning.

Still, when they whisper in his ear,

He tried to read between the lines...

The memories of his past flew through his brain. It would be a few minutes until the dementors came. Lucius tried desperately to grab onto a happy memory, and joyful moment. But the pictures of his life kept coming, and he could not concentrate on one. Then, he remembered. The day he had first met Narcissa.

He had been in the Seventh year, she had been in the fifth. A little Ravenclaw, clever, cocky, and witty. He remembered the way her hair was let loose to fly in the wind. Lucius buried his face in his hands. Now who would run their hands through the pale, silken locks?

What I see in the night,

What I feel in your heart,

All your dreams, all your lies,

Can you tell them apart?

As his soul was sucked out, and his body left, there would be a void in her heart that he had once filled. Lucius loved his wife. She was so beautiful, and so warm. Lucius felt his dirty hair, smiling slightly at what she would say at the sight of it.

He could never remember being this frightened. He had been frightened when his father had been murdered. He had been frightened when his son was in danger. But now, here he was, ruined after the Dark Lord's fall, his wife and son left with nothing. The Manor was now in the hands of the Ministry, their wealth donated for worthier causes. Lucius glanced over at the candle. How low it was, and how feeble the rays were.

See the hands on the clock?

Are you watching them turn?

For your candle's quite low;

We've been watching it burn!

He would never see his son get married. He would sit here until the end of time, his soul gone, his purpose lost. Lucius could not open his eyes against the light any longer. Even when he closed his eyes, he could see the cursed flame, the image burned into his mind.

He could hear footsteps now, drawing closer. They were the sharp, confident steps of a jailer, and he could hear the soft rustling of a dementor's cloak. The world suddenly shifted into focus, as Lucius realised that he had two more minutes of conscious thought. He settled back on Narcissa.

Do you lie here, awake,

As the shadows look on?

Should they cry for your sake?

Should you sleep in their arms?

Narcissa. Memories flashed through his head yet again. Narcissa at their wedding, at Christmas, cradling her son. Draco Xavier Icarus Lucius Malfoy. Lucius let his head fall heavy on his chest. And his son would be marrying one of the people who were killing his father. But this was no time for grudges. Virginia Eve Weasley would understand.

The door opened, spilling light into the squalid cell. Lucius held up a hand to block the light. He could see the jailer, and the dementor, his hood back. Lucius tried desperately to remember the happiest times in his life, but could only feel cold rejection from the blessed warmth. He could no longer see his beloved wife's face. Narcissa!

For the shadows see all,

And they rarely forget,

Every dream that you've had,

Every act you regret.

Lucius felt the jailer rather than saw him. He nodded mutely, refusing the blindfold that was offered to him. The dementor was coming nearer, and Lucius, proud as always, flung his head back, and accepted his death with pride.