Ice

AN: Thanks to Kirixchi and Aulizia for the use of "Ravensden" for the Black's home.

Chapter 7: "I smile when I'm angry, I cheat and I lie, I do what I have to do." Leonard Cohen, In My Secret Life.

Staring out of the window at the rain that pelted down on the Manor's immaculate yard, Lucius sat in the study of Malfoy Manor. It was cold enough outside to kill the delicate vegetation, but the grass was enchanted to stay green. It might have been blue for all Malfoy noticed, however, as his mind was elsewhere.

"Did you hear me, Lucius?"
Lucius looked up to meet his father Aurelius' stern look. I wasn't listening to you, you old fool, Lucius thought, but schooled his features into a politely interested look and said only "I apologize, father; I did not." Lucius did not terribly enjoy his father's company, but it would not do for the disgust he felt at that old man to show so plainly on his face. Aurelius Malfoy shared a few traits in common with his son--the same tall, lanky build, pale skin and pointed chin--but that was where the resemblance ended. Oh, Malfoy Sr. had the same arrogance that was bred into a Malfoy from the cradle, but he lacked ambition. It would appear his son had inherited that quality twofold.

His grandfather Marcus, now he was a Malfoy that one could be proud of claiming as a relative. Lucius recalled the older Malfoy telling him stories as a child about the Knights of Walpurgis, about the fight against those who would taint their world with Muggles and Mudbloods. His grandfather was not an affectionate man; none of the Malfoy men inherited that particular trait. Yet the lessons Marcus taught young Lucius before his mysterious death were far more important than his father's droning speeches about politics. It wasn't that Lucius was not aware of the importance of Ministry connections; it was just that Aurelius seemed to think that there was nothing else one needed to do except establish some.

Well, that and father a son to continue the Malfoy line. He was fairly certain that was why he had been summoned to his father's presence, as they did not often interact unless Aurelius wished to lecture his only son and heir about some responsibility he felt Lucius was neglecting. Malfoy Sr. was content to sit and argue politics and history with his friends, drink firewhiskey and hunt. Lucius was not disagreeable to hunting, but his preferred quarry was not exactly the prey his father and his cronies hunted. He smiled at the thought. I doubt the creatures they hunt put up as spirited a chase as mine. As a young boy, when Aurelius had taken Lucius hunting, Aurelius was forever trying to impart to his son the responsibility the hunter had to humanely kill his prey, to clean it and to keep it from going to waste. "That would make us nothing worse than poachers, son," his father would say. "And Malfoys are not poachers; it is disrespectful to our heritage." Young Lucius would nod, although it was obvious to them both the boy cared more about the hunt than the well-established post-hunt ritual. That was, in essence, the difference between father and son.

"I asked you if there was a particular reason you were spending so much time with the youngest Black chit?" Aurelius asked imperiously, fixing Lucius with a look. His father wore his blond hair short and had a neat beard. Lucius knew his father hated his son's long hair, which was the main reason Lucius wore it that way. Aurelius would never mention it; he was too much a Malfoy to admit something so insignificant bothered him, although his annoyance was plain enough to read.

"I should think that was obvious," Lucius drawled, swirling the amber-colored brandy around and fixing his father with a lazy smile.

"Son, you will not sneer at me in that fashion in my presence," his father said sternly, but Lucius ignored him. It wasn't as if his father would do anything if he did not moderate his facial features, after all. "Answer my question," Aurelius said somewhat snappishly.

Well, father, it seems Miss Black has a strange penchant for masochism that fascinates and arouses me, and I thought it fitting if I married a woman with a heart as black as my own. "You are forever hounding me to do my duty to our noble name and find a wife, father. Thus, I am attempting to obtain one." He did not mention that he had decided to marry Narcissa Black several days ago while watching her eyes glaze over in lust as he offered to kill a man for her. The thought excited him, and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair, trying to hide his damnable reaction whenever he thought of Miss Black.

Narcissa. Her name suited her well. One was so caught by that first name, a name that promised vanity and self-centeredness, that one neglected the infinite possibilities implicit in her surname. Black, indeed. There was something innately fascinating about her, in this woman who wanted him to hurt her, to kill for her, but who refused to smile affectionately at him in public. Narcissa had a keen mind, and he knew without a doubt no one had managed to discover that fact except Bellatrix.

At the thought of Narcissa's raven-haired sister, he had to attempt to keep the scowl off of his face. Bellatrix was forever attempting to warn him away from Narcissa, trying to convince him that bringing Narcissa into "their world" was a mistake. Lucius was certain that while Bella might have been clever enough to ascertain that Narcissa had a brain underneath that ash-blond head of hers, she had no idea of the streak of darkness that lie beneath her sister's cool façade. No doubt Bellatrix was too blinded by her own dark nature to truly appreciate--or even notice--the subtlety of Narcissa's.

"I have no objection to your finding a wife, Lucius. I am most concerned, however, about the reputation of that family--"Aurelius began, and Lucius gritted his teeth in annoyance. Lucius had always received everything he'd ever wanted, and he would insure this time would be no different regardless of his father's opinion about the Black family. And he wanted Narcissa Black. Oh, how he wanted her.....

It had taken every ounce of restraint he had possessed not to take her there against the wall in Knockturn Alley that night. She had been so eager for him, pressing her young body against his and moaning under his admittedly violent assault on her mouth. Her innocence blended with that streak of masochism nearly undid him. He was further enthralled by the fact she had no idea what it was she really wanted and how much he wanted to be the one to give it to her. I know what desires dance in your fevered brain, Miss Black, because the desire to give it to you dances in mine.

What had stopped him, that night? It wasn't the curses he'd performed on that stupid, ill-bred miscreant because that type of thing had ceased to bother him long ago. In fact, since Narcissa had thrown that diamond earring at the man, it had taken little effort to have one of his contacts monitor the jewelry shops and alert him as to when the man attempted to sell the diamond. Lucius had found Narcissa's would-be mugger and effectively taken care of him, ensuring one less dangerous criminal in the world. If the man had been bothering Mudbloods or robbing Muggles, Lucius would have clapped him on the back and wished him well before washing his hands and forgetting about the matter entirely. However, that man had dared to put a hand on Narcissa, and for that, Lucius had to kill him. No man would strike what was his, and regardless of the fact he had held himself back from truly claiming her, Narcissa Black was his. His future bride, whether she knew it yet or not.

It could not have been that thought, that she was the future Mrs. Malfoy, that had stayed him. He had pulled her down that alley fully intending to take her at the same time his fevered brain had decided to marry her afterwards. It can't be a sense of nobility, he thought, drowning out his father's lecture on the mistakes of Andromeda Black and some complicated analogy involving the mating habits of thestrals because I haven't got one. A fact Miss Black shall soon find out, if she hasn't already. He downed the rest of his brandy and smiled. It must be that I like the anticipation of the game we play. As does she, which is why it is so...gratifying, even though I have yet to take my pleasure of her...or her of me, for that matter. It was not just arrogance that led him to that conclusion; her response to him had been unmistakable.

"Father," he said firmly, interrupting Aurelius' tirade as once again his body tightened uncomfortably at the though of Narcissa and the various dark and erotic things he wished to do to her, "Narcissa Black is hardly the type of woman to run off with a Muggle." Lucius wished this conversation to be at an end, but apparently Malfoy Sr. did not.

"And that sister, what is her name? Something like Isabelle? She's a bit mad, isn't she?"

"Bellatrix is hardly mad," Lucius lied. "She's just....passionate...about certain... causes." There were other ways to put that, but it was rather difficult to explain Bellatrix's mad fervor in any positive light. "Passionate" was as good an attempt as anything. "Besides, she married a young man from a fine pureblood family." That was what really mattered to his father, who could not know the depths to which Bella's mental state had begun to sink.

"Well, that is true enough, I suppose." Aurelius sighed and narrowed his light-blue eyes at his son. Lucius once heard his father telling his mother that their son's eyes were grey because there was no light in him. Lucius took that as a compliment, although he was certain it was not meant as one.

"I suppose the Black girl is an acceptable mate for you," his father said grudgingly enough. "She is a pretty little thing, that is certain." For some reason Lucius found himself irritated and digging his fingers in the chair. It was unseemly, really, his possessiveness where Narcissa was concerned. After all, the man was his father. "I expect a grandchild before I shed this mortal coil, son."

Lucius choked back a laugh at that. I don't think you'll have to worry about that, and I have no objection to meeting that particular goal of yours. "I'm sure I can oblige you," he drawled and stood. "Are we finished, sir? Speaking of Miss Black, we are to attend the Travers' party together, so I must be off."

"A moment, son," his father said, and Lucius looked at him. There was an odd sense of sadness in his father's eyes that Lucius did not quite understand. He had the recurrent, vague sense he was a disappointment to Aurelius, and as usual the thought sparked his ire. "Lucius, I know you find no value in my continual admonitions to find allies in the Ministry," and Lucius bit back an oath, despising this rehashing of a continued conversation that never was able to be put to bed.

"I have never said I find no value in that advice, father, as I am certain it is nothing but good sense," Lucius replied, enunciating each word as if speaking to a toddler. "I fully intend to continue the Malfoy tradition of having a number of high-ranking Ministry officials in my pocket," he bit out.

Aurelius sighed and looked out the same window Lucius had been staring out of earlier. "The world changes, my son. It always has, and I daresay it always will. There is only so much we can do to prevent such a natural occurrence." The weariness in his voice was evident.

Lucius stared at him, nonplussed. "I am sure I don't know what you are talking about, sir," he said and watched his sire's eyes narrow in a familiar look as he turned his gaze back on his son.

"I understand your sentiments in regards to many of the newer policies being sponsored by the Ministry, Lucius, I really do. I was young once, myself." Aurelius' words caused a strange roaring in Lucius' ears, and he fisted his hands at his sides and clenched his jaw until he felt a tick. If there was any proven way to incite his temper, his father playing the I-was-once-a-young-idealistic-buck-myself- son card was sure to do so. This time was no exception.

"But do keep in mind that this family is the most important thing there is as far as your loyalties are concerned," Aurelius continued in the same condescending tone, "and all of your ideological causes do not amount to a pile of Sickles next to that. You marry Miss Black and sire heirs. Go ahead and throw your support to whatever you want, but if you find yourself in too deep, Lucius, do not forget that the Malfoy name owns your allegiance first and foremost." His father pounded his fisted hand against the desk. "The future of this family means more than any other course you've marked out for yourself. Do you understand me, Lucius?" Aurelius' eyes drifted briefly to Lucius' left forearm.

"I promise you, sir, I shall never forget to what--and whom--I owe my allegiance," Lucius hissed out. He met his father's eyes without flinching, and the two Malfoy men stared at each other for a moment, silent.

His father nodded, the strange look in his eyes fading into his normal cool gaze. He waved his hand as if dismissing him, and Lucius nodded once and turned to go. When he reached the door, he put one black-gloved hand on the knob and then turned back, unable to let the old man have the last word. Aurelius had been responsible for the sense of pride that did not allow Lucius to back down from such verbal battles, after all.

"I am merely going to help ensure the future is worthy of the Malfoy name," he said and walked out the door. If his father called to him, he did not hear it, and he would not have heeded the summons anyway.

My own son, Lucius thought furiously as he threw open his bedroom door, shall know the importance of the Malfoy name and shall live in the kind of world that respects that name. I shall do my best to ensure that is so.

Lucius caught his reflection in the mirror and found he was obviously overset. He was well-aware of his own formidable temper, something he'd inherited from his mother. He took several deep breaths to calm down, noting his narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks in annoyance. It was rather difficult for those of fair features to hide that flash of anger that rose so naturally to the skin.

His eyes fell on a small package on his dresser and he picked it up, smiling slightly. The flush on his face changed from anger to a different kind of emotion. The anticipatory gleam in his eyes was no less dark than the rage that had preceded it, but it was a much more satisfying reason to be on edge. Lucius smoothed his blonde hair back into his usual queue, as he had left it down to speak with his father. Lucius Malfoy was a genius when it came to subtle gestures guaranteed to elicit strong reactions, and he was supremely confident this talent would not go amiss tonight.

As he made his way out of the Manor, his eyes were drawn to the door to his father's study, which was ajar. Aurelius was staring into the fire, his head bowed as if in prayer. Lucius had assumed his father's friends would be round to drink brandy and pontificate as was their usual pastime, but there was no evidence of anyone else's presence in the study.

Lucius stood there a moment, looking at his father. He briefly wondered why he was such a disappointment to the man, then shook his head and walked out of the Manor. Such thoughts were not productive and only made him angry. The world he lived in is fading, and the future belongs to those of us strong enough to make it what we want. Lucius pulled out his wand and Apparated to the Ravensden, the Black's home.