A Moment of Reflection

"Aren't you in chains
That no one else can see"

"The Great Escape" Moby

Sometimes I wonder how you can live like this. Living in this cage you created for yourself with this ridiculous marriage to your 'best friend'.

Serious. Family man. Blonde wife. Respected. Straight as an arrow.

But well, my wife isn't fake, my marriage isn't just pretend. It's real. It's me and her. With you and Narcissa it's just a dream of something people told you to want. But you never wanted it yourself, did you?

You don't love the woman you call your wife. You admire her, you like her, you even worship her, but you don't love her. Not like you should. You married her after all. But she wears a flaw you can't forgive her for. Although it isn't her fault, never was. She is what she is. A woman. So much more and so much less than what you want. What you need.

But still you live your life in this cage. You put yourself in chains. Transparent chains, but still...chains. Hard. Ungiving. Stopping you from being yourself and yet, they give you room. The room to escape from what you are.

And honestly, I can't blame you. Not really. Growing up in a community that adheres to strict marital beliefs, doesn't exactly help someone to embrace one's homosexuality. It sent you running, arms flailing, hands reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. And so you found her. A woman fitting right into this charade, filling the missing pieces of your masquerade. A woman, willing to sacrifice so much for you, for your own illusion. To help you. To keep people from looking too closely. To stop yourself thinking about the things happening around you.

What does she get for this? For giving up her own life to live yours? Money? Power? Is that what she wanted when she said yes, when she swore to stand by you no matter what? Is it enough? Could it be? I don't think so.

I guess in the end she does it all for you. Because she loves you. Yes, she does. Surprising? Not at all. You aren't a monster after all. You may bring fear, you may cause ordinary people to tremble at the mention of your name, but underneath this veil you are still good old Lucius.

She loves you with all her heart can give, whatever it's worth. Don't get me wrong, I like her. I just don't trust her. How could I? She loves a man who will never love her back. There's not much in this world besides this that could break a person. And that would be your end. Her breaking, her spilling it out, your secret.

You might play the powerful master at day, but at night, every night, the façade is cracking and the real you crawls through the concrete. The real you is not evil, not cruel, not anything people might expect. It's just...broken. And no one is allowed to know that. To know that the love for the wrong person broke you in pieces. How far could you go then, Lucius? How many dreams would be shattered with revealing this?

She and I know. That you're broken. Because you want to love her but can't. Not the way she loves you. But it's understandable. Yes, she might be the blue eyed angel, a woman many would want. But who wants the angel when the devil is such an intriguing creature, such a personified siren song?

He is everything you shouldn't want, hunger, sex and lust. But still you search his presence, you fly around his light and burn your wings. This craving, it's a dangerous thing, something you can't control but I have the suspicion that sometimes you don't want to.

Yes, a part of you is still denying your growing attracting towards him, is still pretending to see nothing but the Death Eater in him. But the edge in your face grows harder, and the hunger in your eyes claws its way out to show freely on your face. The pretending becomes a play and after that another game will follow.

And I can't do anything but watch you fall and pretend to fly. Pretend to be still escaping. Although he already caught you. There's nothing I can do. No net to put up, no monster to shoot. Nothing. All I can do is to sit and wait. And to watch my best friend perform at the greatest game - the great escape.

And it's not just you and Narcissa to bear in mind. You have Draco. Lovely Draco. He was another pretence to help mask the truth wasn't he? Didn't I say that Narcissa loved you? She would have to, to be prepared to have your baby for the sake of keeping up appearances.

I couldn't believe it when you said Narcissa was pregnant. She was just a child herself! How can you have had sex with her when you were aching for him? Did you not shout out his name instead of hers? Did you not yearn for his touch instead of hers, his long brown hair instead of her blonde, or his thin masculine physique instead of her curvy feminine one?

Every day Draco seems to be getting bigger. Turning into another Lucius. Does it not concern you that he has never brought a girlfriend home? That he has never so much as mentioned another girl's name? Maybe Little Lucius is turning out to be like his father in more ways than one.

He is sixteen isn't he? The same age that you were when you had your first homosexual encounter. I remember the exact day. Your face broke out into a huge grin, as you fought your way across the Great Hall to tell me about him. Your new lover, you called him. Your little Sevvie.

You relayed the whole incident to me, your voice growing more animate as you got to the nitty details. You always knew that you had a thing for him. You never told me. I already knew. You tried so hard to never mention his name for fear that I might guess your feelings for him. But I know that you thought about him. Every night. People talked about the little incidents in bed. You would whisper his name over and over in your sleep. I never told you that I knew.

I remember the day when he told you it was over. Finished. Done. Complete. You were so distraught, you couldn't pretend you weren't. You cried to me. Told me everything. Begged me to tell you why he dumped you. But I couldn't tell you. It hurt me to see you like that.

Then I remember the day when it was back on. Then it was back off. It went on like this for months. How can you tell me that you didn't tire of this? This yo-yo of a relationship. He broke your heart over and over, yet you kept running back to him. Allowing yourself to become his lapdog. Severus Snape's Lapdog.

They called you more than that though. You were the Hogwarts Rentboy, the Slytherin Whore and Severus' Playboy. Potter thought of them all. Spread them around. You pretended not to react, but I knew that it hurt you.

You married Narcissa at eighteen. Such a young age. Did it not seem odd being shacked up with her while your friends went out partying? Don't get me wrong, she was beautiful. Every man's dream. Just not your dream.

You pretended to enjoy masculine activities like watching the Quidditch World Cup, but I knew that you would rather stay at home and let Narcissa plait your hair. Yes, don't think I didn't know about these hairdressing incidents. Me and the boys put a charm on your house so we could see what you were doing. Loved the frilly panties. Enough said.

I am writing this letter to beg you, Lucius, please, ask yourself why you are doing this. Living a life you cannot stand. Trapped behind your own lies. Allowing this charade to get bigger and bigger. Why?

Your friend,

Lestrange.