Lessons Learned

It was a beautiful summer day in Wiltshire, England. In the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, a young man approached the small table beside his piano. A candle stood on it, its sides encrusted with the dripped wax of past flames.

A wand tip was pressed to the wick of a candle. After a murmured charm, it was set aflame. The mixed smell of smoke and vanilla rose into the air, and the young man who held the wand breathed it in deeply.

He pocketed his wand (cedar, twelve inches, Runespoor fang core) before taking the seat at his piano. Brushing his silver hair out of his eyes, he flexed his fingers before placing them on the keys. Taking a deep breath, he began playing his favorite Beethoven piece. Sure, Beethoven was a Muggle, but he wrote damn fine symphonies.

"Lucius!"

The music broke with a slam of the keys. The young man stood up, angry that the peace had been ruined by his mother's calls.

"Company has arrived! Get down here this instant!"

Lucius sighed. Combing his fingers through his hair in what seemed to be an automatic gesture, he strode to the door. Spotting a house-elf just outside the corridor, he grabbed it by the neck.

"Go tell my mother I'll be downstairs shortly," Lucius spat at the house-elf, who was trembling from head to foot. He dropped it without warning, and it squeaked in surprise. "Now."

"Y-Yes, Master," the house-elf squealed, then hurried off to the staircase. Lucius turned back to the drawing room, and stood in front of the mirror above the fireplace. He checked to be sure his hair was straight and that his robes were clean before following the elf down to the entrance hall.

"You're always late for company," his mother hissed at him as he reached the last step. "It's a good thing their carriage became stubborn and isn't opening, or you would be late."

"Sorry, Mother," said Lucius automatically, smoothing down the lapels of his robes.

"And it's a very good thing your father is helping them, or you would be on the floor begging for mercy," Desdemona Malfoy continued, her eyes flashing as she adjusted her diamond necklace, making sure the expensive jewels were easily visible. She was a slim, petite woman, with platinum blonde hair and shockingly blue eyes. The diamonds around her neck were direct clues to her obsession with high-priced jewelry and clothing. "I expect you'll be punished later."

Lucius flinched. His father's punishments were legendary for their length and lasting pain. Even though his son was of age, Iago Malfoy still disciplined Lucius like he was thirteen. "May I ask whom is joining us for tea today?"

"The Potters," his mother answered crisply. Lucius managed not to choke.

"Why on earth did you invite the Potters over to tea?" he demanded.

"Because Mr. Potter is an Auror, and has close connections with the Ministry."

"Are you ill, Mother? They may be an old pureblood family, but they're for Muggle and wizard equality. Not to mention their only child is a Gryffindor, and friends with that blood traitor Black, the half-blood Lupin, and that disgrace to wizarding world Pettigrew. And--" Lucius paused to catch his breath.

"Your father wanted some questions answered," said Mrs. Malfoy curtly.

Lucius waited for her to continue, but she didn't speak. Hiding his irritation by looking away, he waited for the Potters to come inside.

He didn't have to wait long. A minute after his mother's short speech, Iago Malfoy entered the entrance hall, closely followed by the Potters, including their son James. He was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hello, Helen," Mrs. Malfoy greeted the other woman, who was pulling off her cloak and handing it to the house-elf by the door. "How are you and Westley this afternoon?"

"We're doing well, thank you," answered Helen Potter, a pretty woman with thick, brown hair. She kissed Mrs. Malfoy's cheek briefly before turning to Lucius. "How have the past four school-free years treated you, Lucius?"

Lucius shrugged, though he managed to make it look regal. "They've been good to me, I suppose, ma'am. As I had the highest N.E.W.Ts of my class, the job offers have been countless." Mrs. Potter smiled, though it was weak. You don't want to be here anymore than we want you to be, he thought as James snorted and gazed elsewhere.

"Congratulations," said Mr. Potter, an arm around his wife's waist. He looked just as excited as Mrs. Potter, who still had the unconvincing smile on her face. "I hope James does as well as you did. He's got his N.E.W.Ts this year."

Mr. Malfoy moved towards the group. He placed a hand on Mr. Potter's shoulder, gripping slightly. "Well, Westley, shall we all go to the study and have a drink before lunch?"

"That would be fine. Have any of that good whiskey, Iago?"

"Just bought it, as well as a bottle of red wine for your lovely wife." Helen blushed, and Mr. Malfoy looked at the two boys. "You two can go up to the drawing room and entertain yourselves there."

And with that, the four adults left the entrance hall, en route to the study. Goodness. If Father's planning to get them drunk, then I'm sure he needs a bill passed at the Ministry or something like that. Lucius glanced at James, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else. He sighed.

"Look, Potter, I don't fancy watching a foolish adolescent like yourself," began Lucius. "You can occupy yourself with a book, so don't plan on me amusing you for a few hours."

"Look, Malfoy," Potter mimicked, "I don't fancy staying at this horrid house for a couple of hours of my life that I'll never get back. The only reason my parents agreed to come have tea is because it's rude not to. Why did they invite us, anyway?"

"Don't ask me," said Lucius brusquely. He began walking up the staircase, wincing as his left arm brushed against the banister. He had joined a new Dark Lord that was slowly gaining power--Lord Voldemort--the minute he had left school. The Dark Mark on his left forearm still ached from the summoning the night before.

He was enjoying the silence of the drawing room and a book of Dark curses Severus had lent to him when Potter strolled in. The younger wizard plopped himself down onto the empty sofa across from him, and crossed his arms.

"The house-elves downstairs told me I was not allowed anywhere else in Malfoy Manor," said Potter, almost as though he was confessing.

"You aren't a resident of the home," Lucius explained as he flicked to a page of Internal Curses. He managed not to let his expression show the surprise and disgust that he felt. Could you really do that to a human body?

"That book is illegal," said Potter quietly. Lucius looked over the top of Praesentia Postenstas, his pale eyebrows raised. "I've seen it on Dad's list of Restricted Books."

"What are you going to do, Potter? Report me to your Auror father?" Lucius asked scornfully, returning to his reading.

"Where'd you get it, is what I want to know."

Lucius marked his place before snapping the book shut. "Why must you be so meddlesome, Potter?"

"I've got nothing better to do."

"Very well. Severus loaned it to me for the summer holidays."

"Snivellus?" Potter exclaimed, his hazel eyes wide behind his glasses. Lucius sniffed.

"Yes, he did lend it to me."

"Why?"

"Because I asked."

"Oh." Potter sat back, obviously disappointed by the simplicity of the answer. Lucius smirked. The boy always was easily disheartened, if Lucius recalled the time they had spent together as children at a family reunion. They were distant third cousins.

"Are you friends with that greasy git?"

"Yes."

"Merlin, why?"

To be perfectly honest, he wasn't even sure himself. Severus had been the unpopular boy four years younger than him, but he knew more curses than most sixth years. Lucius had taken him under his wing, and the younger wizard was following him everywhere he went--even Lord Voldemort. Lucius supposed that Severus was his friend, but truth be told, he still wasn't quite sure why.

Severus also complained about Potter and his friends a lot. The last owl he had sent was full of grumbles about cursing in the corridors and vicious pranks. The last time Lucius had seen Potter, he had been thirteen, and he couldn't picture the baby-faced boy hanging Severus upside down by the lake and showing everyone his underwear. But Severus never lied, and Lucius would always help a fellow Death Eater...

"Look, Potter, I said I wouldn't entertain you. Go read a book, if your oversized ego can stand words that aren't written about you."

Potter's wand was in his hand and pointed between Lucius's eyebrows as soon as the words left his mouth. The latter sneered.

"Don't insult me," Potter hissed. "I don't want any of your petty abuse. It's bad enough that our mothers are friends, and I do not enjoy coming over here. I don't want to hear anything from you."

"Potter. Not only am I twenty-one--four years older than you, I might add--but I have already graduated. I have a job at the Ministry and more curses on the tip of my tongue than you do. Don't try and challenge me to a duel. You will lose."

"I don't think so," said Potter softly. He had stood up now. Lucius followed suit. "Lucius Malfoy, I formally challenge you to a duel. Do you accept?"

Lucius snorted as he extracted his wand from a pocket. This was all too easy. The massive opinion Potter had for himself was really going to bite him in the arse later in life. "Of course I accept. Are you ready to lose your dignity, Potter?"

Potter was already standing in the customary dueling position. "No, I don't think so. Gurges!"

"Prasesidium!" Lucius hollered, bringing a purple shield to protect him from the cascade of water that shot from the end of Potter's wand. "Affectus tristis!"

The Emotion Enchantment hit Potter in the gut. He doubled over, tears spilling down his cheeks from the effect of the spell.

"Sectum secui!" Lucius shouted. A red light exploded into Potter's body, turning his robes to rags and leaving hundreds of tiny gashes across his body. The boy tumbled to the ground, landing sharply on his knees as he cried out in pain.

"Lux lucis!"

A dazzling light blasted from the tip of Lucius's wand, blinding Potter for a brief moment. Lucius watched as the Gryffindor struggled to stand up, only to fall back down with his eyes squeezed shut. He obviously had no idea what he was getting into.

Lucius flicked his wand, and the light disappeared. Potter was curled in the fetal position on the floor, muttering under his breath and weeping. Lucius grabbed him by the back of his robes--at least, what was left of them--and yanked him into a standing position.

"You should not jump into things without knowing the consequences," Lucius whispered in Potter's ear, smirking as the boy flinched. "I can hurt you. And I will."

"Malfoy, please," Potter begged. His wand had fallen to the floor, and he was gripping Lucius's upper arm with bloodied hands. "I shouldn't have challenged you to a duel, you're a lot more experienced than I am, I am in pain right now--"

"That's the point, Mudblood lover!" Lucius exclaimed. He shook Potter's sagging body. "I am more experienced than you are! I can put you in pain! You were stupid enough to ask me! I'm a Malfoy and a Slytherin. You're a Potter and a Gryffindor."

Potter's eyes were wide with evident panic. Lucius paused. What an ideal time to perfect his abilities...

"You've just made the biggest mistake of your life, Potter."

Lucius released Potter, and he fell to the ground with a thunk! Positioning his wand straight at the younger wizard's heart, Lucius whispered, "Crucio!"

Potter screamed. Loudly. For a long time.

Once Lucius felt he had had enough fun, he jerked his wand tip up. The curse left Potter, and he lay on the floor, his body convulsing and twitching. Lucius watched, satisfied with his work. The Dark Lord would be pleased the next time Lucius was summoned.

"W-Why?" Potter rasped from the floor. His face was sweaty, and the patches of skin that showed through his tattered robes were open and bleeding. "Why did you do this to me?"

"Because I wanted to," was Lucius's simple reply. Potter stared at him.

"You--you--"

"Me, me," Lucius mocked. "Get used to it, Potter. Not everyone follows you like a lovesick puppy. Not everyone will do as you say. Not everyone likes you. In fact, most of us can't stand you. You're an arrogant, conceited little brat that needs to learn his place. You need to learn that not everything goes your way, and that you are not the center of the universe. Things do not revolve around you. You must learn some manners. I don't understand how a pureblood like you ended up in Gryffindor, and I surely don't understand why you act the way you do. But it's awful; you're a spoiled brat and an unpleasant person to be around. I, personally, dislike you immensely.

"You are brutal, heartless, nasty, and downright cruel. You curse people without giving a reason. You hurt people without telling them why. And don't tell me I'm hypocritical, or I'll curse you again. You are generally an annoyance to the teachers, no matter how much you flash that grin of yours at them. Do you understand me, Potter?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good. Now, I want you to promise me something."

"A-Anything."

Lucius let a smile drift over his features. This boy was in Gryffindor, house of the reckless heroes, and he wasn't brave at all. How strange.

Well, he was going to take advantage of this situation. Perhaps even help Severus a bit...

"Potter, you will repeat everything I say, or I will curse you until you're nothing but a pile of dust. Get it?"

Potter nodded.

"I, James Potter, promise to realize what an arse I've been."

"I, James Potter, promise to realize what an arse I've been," Potter recited. His voice shook slightly.

"I am a haughty, conceited little prick."

"I am a haughty, conceited little prick."

"I won't curse people in the corridors, I won't insult Severus every chance I get, and I will make a conscious effort to change."

"I won't curse people in the corridors, I won't insult Severus every chance I get, and I will make a conscious effort to change," Potter repeated. He looked exhausted, rather than frightened.

"That's enough for now, Potter."

"That's enough--" Potter began, but snapped his jaw shut at the look Lucius gave him.

What to do now?

Potter's father was an Auror, and his mother's sister worked in the Department of Law Enforcement. If he happened to let the use of an Unforgivable Curse slip, Lucius would be in Azkaban with a snap of Westley Potter's fingers.

And Lucius wasn't planning on going to Azkaban any time soon.

He took out his wand again. Potter backed away, but was stopped by the sofa behind him. He silently whimpered, looking absolutely petrified. Lucius cleared his throat.

"No, Potter, as much as I would like, I'm not going to curse you again. What I'm going to do is modify your memory. A simple charm, so you'll forget that I used an illegal curse on you, but you will remember that little speech I just gave you."

Potter nodded, biting his lower lip nervously. "Please--"

"Memoria damnum," Lucius murmured. A silver dust immerged from his wand, enveloping Potter before it disappeared as he inhaled. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and fell limp.

Lucius left the unconscious Potter in the drawing room.

* * *

James stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express, watching students climb onto the train and the parents that waved their good-byes. The train wasn't leaving for another twenty minutes. He supposed, as Head Boy, he should be helping the younger students, but he didn't feel up to it.

He tried to look for Peter in the crowd, but Malfoy's cruel voice kept interrupting his search.

You are not the center of the universe.

Not everyone likes you.

You're an arrogant, conceited little brat that needs to learn his place.

Learn some manners.

You are brutal, heartless, nasty, and downright cruel.

Do you understand me, Potter?

"You all right, James?"

Remus Lupin's concerned voice jerked James out of his inner flashbacks. He looked at his friend, smiling faintly.

"Yeah, Moony, I'm fine. Just thinking about stuff over the summer holidays, that's all."

"Oh...Was it something at the Malfoy's? I heard your mum talking to mine about it. She said it was awful; that Mr. Malfoy got drunk and his wife was insulting Muggles left and right. And you had to stay with Lucius, right?"

James nodded grimly.

"What happened?"

"I...I don't remember," James admitted. Remus's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "I'm serious! I can't remember a damn thing about it, except for this thing he told me...Something about how I need to learn my place, how I'm arrogant. But I don't remember anything past that, except waking up at home."

"Maybe he spiked your butterbeer," Remus suggested.

"He didn't give me anything to drink."

Remus shrugged. "I dunno what to tell you, mate."

James didn't have time to respond, for Peter burst through the compartment door, dragging trunks.

"Right, how was everyone's holiday?" Peter asked. He took the seat next to Remus, who was silently questioning James with his eyebrows.

Are you going to tell?

James shook his head slightly. Remus inclined his head.

As his friends chattered around him, James looked out the window. Was Malfoy right? Had he always been mean to the Slytherins? Was this the way he acted? Was he mean and cruel?

James leaned his head against the cool glass. He hadn't known. The hexing people in the corridors had started off as a joke, something that everyone laughed about when Snape or Avery stumbled into class with antlers. Did the teachers really loathe him? Had he always been this bigheaded?

"Hey, Snivellus!" Peter called into the corridor. As he aged, he had grown more confident. And that confidence had brought a sudden interest in insulting Snape. "How was your summer? Did you spend it hanging by your feet with the rest of your family?"

"Bugger off, Pettigrew," came the response.

James was struck with inspiration as Peter and Snape exchanged insults. Maybe he could change his public reputation by being kind, by apologizing...

He stood up and stuck his head around the compartment door. Snape was sitting with Rosier, Regulus, and Avery. All four were doing quite a good job of looking glum and unappreciated.

"Hey, Snape?"

"What do you want, Potter?"

"May I step inside?"

Snape was hesitating, his hand itching towards his wand. James sighed. He withdrew his own and handed it to Remus, who took it with confusion. Peter watched eagerly.

"There. Now may I step inside?"

Snape nodded, and James walked into the compartment. He gestured for the Slytherin to meet him halfway through, and the other boy did. James was sure that Snape didn't want to be overheard. And besides, the rest of the Marauders couldn't hear either. James didn't really want his friends to hear him apologizing to Snape.

"Look, Snape..." James began, flattening his hair almost involuntarily. "I--"

But he never got the chance to finish him improvised apology, for Snape's fist had connected with his nose. James let out a yell as the bone crunched, and Snape's pale face twisted into a smile.

"Right," James muttered, holding his broken nose carefully. Sweet Merlin, this hurt...Who knew Snape had such a good right hook? "I think I'm going to go back to my friends now, and we'll try this conversation later."

"Good," Snape sneered, and James left.

Well, he tried, anyway.