Object of Affection

Object of Affection - 6

Or sign that they were bent

By paths coincident

On being anon twin halves of one august event

Thomas Hardy - The Convergence of the Twain

That June Sebastian paid an unexpected visit to his son in London. Narcissa was surprised - the old man had lived like a hermit at the Manor for months. It was quite unlike him to venture out of his domain. She wasn't pleased, but she was in her own house, where she was mistress. She wasn't the least bit intimidated - just annoyed that her gardening work had been interrupted. It was almost like a conspiracy - Lucius wanted her to leave the garden alone, and now Sebastian was here to distract them. Well, Sebastian never wanted to talk to her, and he wasn't likely to start today. She could just drop him with Lucius and his cousin and get back to her roses. He and Voldemort could gossip with each other.

They were an odd sight. Lucius's cousin Morgan was sitting at the small table with Lucius on his right and Voldemort on his left. All three were sipping tea in the shade, trying to stay cool in their black robes. Everyone in the garden was still dressed in mourning. They looked like a murder of crows. Morgan was relieved - he wasn't sure what to wear for this meeting, and lucked onto the family uniform. He had forgotten about Damon's death. Seeing his uncle at this meeting was very unsettling - he had only agreed to talk to Voldemort. Sebastian had made no secret of his dislike for Voldemort in the last few months.

Narcissa poured herself tea and gratefully sat down on the chair Lucius vacated for her. The baby was starting to show, and she felt quite uncomfortable. She didn't plan on staying at the table, but when Lucius went to walk with his father, she saw no reason to follow them. She listened to Morgan and Voldemort talk about politics, but didn't chime in herself. She'd heard the talk before - this wasn't the first time Lucius had introduced his friends to Voldemort. The scene had been played for her many times. She let her mind wander as the discussion flowed around her, happy to be ignored. Voldemort was beginning to get quite tedious with all his political talk, and she had told Lucius that she'd be happy if they could see less of the man. His reputation was becoming very unsavoury, and she didn't want to associate too closely with the kind of people he was being linked to. Her posture resembled Sebastian's as she sat silently in the shade.

"Narcissa, you're looking depressed, my dear. Surely you're not upset over the fate of the Hippocampus and her Tadfoal?" he said with a smile.

"Sorry?"

"The story on those enchanted sea-horses caught in the oil slick in the North Sea? You didn't see it?" said Morgan with a grin.

"No, I'm afraid I missed it. What oil spill?" Being a voracious reader, Narcissa wasn't sure if he was telling the truth.

Voldemort put on a serious face and began, "The Daily Prophet had a big story on the celebration for the release of the last two Hippocampus who were injured in the oil spill last year. There was a huge party at the marine research centre. The Minister of Magic was there, and the senior staff of the animal hospital, all the volunteers, merpeople. Huge crowd - everyone who donated a Knut to the rehabilitation effort..."

"Which cost ninety thousand galleons!" interrupted Morgan.

"Everyone was invited. They all gathered at the bay to release them. As the Hippocampus and her child swam out to sea, the band played and fireworks exploded. People watched through Omnioculars as they swam to the mouth of the bay...where a killer whale ate them."

Narcissa covered her mouth with her hand while her eyes laughed.

"No, no, it gets better!" interrupted Morgan. "They didn't even make it back into the food chain! The whale tried to eat them, but the potions they used to treat them in the research centre made them, well, unpalatable. So the whale spat them out, half-chewed, and the merpeople swam them back to shore. The witches and wizards from the animal hospital swarmed around them, ready to apply all the knowledge they had gained over the past year to heal them. But there wasn't enough left - they couldn't save them. So they drew their wands and put them out of their misery."

"And the band played on..." said Voldemort melodramatically.

They all burst into laughter as Lucius and Sebastian looked at them from the other side of the garden.

*

"It looks like your wife is coming along now. When did that Crouch woman say?"

"August."

"You two don't seem very excited."

"It's too hot to be excited. You left your walking stick at home, Father. Is your leg better?"

"I'm very much recovered."

"Wonderful. What brings you to London?"

"Can't I pay a visit to my son? Voldemort seems to be more welcome here than I am."

"Of course you are welcome here, Father. If you give me some warning next time I can make sure your friends are here, too."

"I wasn't looking for an audience."

"So this was to be an ambush?"

"Why do you turn everything I say on its head? I just came to see you. When you have children of your own, you'll understand."

"That may be a long time."

Sebastian stared at him with narrowed eyes, and saw Morgan and Narcissa laughing at something Voldemort said. "What is Voldemort doing here, anyway?"

"He's a friend, just as you wanted him to be, Father. Did you change your mind about his worth? Am I to give him up like Damon did?"

The mention of the name brought fresh pain to Sebastian, but it also brought out his protective feelings. Lucius was all he had left. He was clever, no doubt. Much smarter than Damon. But he wasn't the spare anymore. He couldn't be risked. Sebastian wasn't worried about the family name, anymore. He was worried for Lucius. "Son, I do think I'd better talk to Voldemort. This association is dangerous - you know it. You have a family now - it may be too risky."

"I had the same family in December, Father," he said in an icy voice. "But now I have more power. The risks are acceptable, to me. Still, if you want to talk to Voldemort, he is right there. Go - have a talk."

They walked back to the shade, and Narcissa gave him back his chair, saying she was going to finish the roses. Sebastian didn't sit. He asked Voldemort to come for a walk with him. They started circling the garden on the gravel path.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Sebastian began.

"I'm not playing it alone."

"I wish you would. I'm prepared to make it worth your while."

"Are you trying to buy me off, Sebastian? How much is a son worth these days on the open market? Forgive me - not just a son - an heir. The last of your line, according to my new friend Morgan. Those must be dear."

"Very dear."

"You remind me of my father, Sebastian. He looked like you - similar smiles. More concerned with appearances than anything else. Couldn't tolerate anything extraordinary. Was that why you favoured Damon so? Because he looked like you? Did Lucius's face remind you of someone you'd rather forget? I wonder - but truthfully, what man doesn't? Rest easy - your line does not end with you. I wonder if Lucius will rest so easy with this boy."

"What are you implying?"

"Only that you and my father have an easier time selling your children than you have buying them back."

"I will fight for him."

"Very likely. But so will Narcissa. She fought the Malfoys before and won. Destroyed Lucius's enemy, and her own, and advanced her family. She'll do anything for her family, Sebastian. She'll fight for this dark haired boy she carries. Against anyone. Even you. Even Lucius. And she'll win. And when she wins, I win." And if she loses I win. Voldemort watched Sebastian's face go red with rage and smiled.

Sebastian's ears rang with the words. It all fit - Narcissa hated Damon. Hated him. And Voldemort obviously loved her. She cuckolded Lucius, and was just biding her time to clear the way for Voldemort's child. Damon must have known. And now Damon was dead. Not from a fall - Sebastian saved him from the fall. Damon had been crushed - it could have fallen anywhere, but it fell on Damon. She had called to him - distracted him. She killed my son. It was all a plot. Sebastian started to walk toward Narcissa, who was bent over her roses. She put her secateurs down on the stone wall and dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief. She saw him coming and straightened up.

"Sebastian," she said.

How to kill her? Sebastian knew many curses, but none painful enough. Nothing could be horrible enough. Avada Kedavra was too merciful. Cruciatus was too fast, and not nearly deadly enough. His hand closed around the secateurs and drove them into her belly. This is what it feels like to lose a child! She wouldn't do any more damage - she would die.

Narcissa hadn't seen it coming, he could tell - no more than Damon had seen it coming. Sebastian was mad - he raised the bloody implements above his head and heard her murmured defensive charm as he brought them down on her neck - she didn't get it out in time. She grabbed at his wrist and sent the strongest curse she could muster at him - but it wouldn't stop him. He could feel her fade even as the curse washed over him. She was fading too fast. She closed her eyes and collapsed backwards into the roses.

Sebastian had almost forgotten what it was like to kill - it had been years. The monster before him was dying. A primal thrill coursed thought his veins, equal parts pain and pleasure. There was blood everywhere, but not enough. He needed a sea of blood to pay for what she did. There was no paying for what she did. He reached for his wand - he wanted to Crucio her before she died.

Voldemort had his wand out and shouted Expelliarmus! Which threw Sebastian into the bushes, and put his wand into Voldemort's hand. Lucius and Morgan were running to Narcissa where she was lying tangled in the roses. Voldemort got to Sebastian first and used his own wand to quietly deliver a hex which rendered him too weak to move. In the confusion, no one noticed.

Lucius pulled Narcissa out of the mess of lion's tail, angelica, and thorns. There was so much blood. Blood everywhere. Morgan was a mediwizard - he could fix it. He tried to close the wounds, but it wasn't working. Narcissa's eye's fluttered open. "Lucius," she breathed before closing them again. An indictment. He'd failed her again. No! He tried again to stop the bleeding. It slowed, but didn't stop.

"What the hell's going on? You're a professional - heal her!"

"This isn't a damned shaving cut, Lucius! I'm doing the best I can!"

"Do better!"

"I've got to get her cleaned up - these plants are making things worse. I can't see what I'm doing." They moved her into her bathroom.

Voldemort took Sebastian to Lucius' bedroom and settled him in the bed, almost affectionately. "Thank you Sebastian. I couldn't have done it better myself," he said. "Stupefy!" and went to Narcissa's room.

He walked through the open door as Morgan was explaining to Lucius. "She's lost too much blood, Lucius. If the spell works, it will kill the baby - it will stop the blood it needs. We can try to deliver it early, but that's time Narcissa doesn't have. We may save the baby, but not her. You have to chose."

Lucius closed his eyes. He could feel death in the room. It was getting close. His love or her child? Their child. He knew what Narcissa would chose, but it wasn't her choice. He had the power. "All the power you need." What did he need? He needed her. It was that simple, and that terrible. In three words he had killed his firstborn. There would be other children. There wouldn't be another Narcissa. "Save Narcissa." Two words. It was getting easier. Wasn't it? It had to get easier.

Morgan started the incantations to stop the bleeding, and in less than a half hour Narcissa slept peacefully in her bed, no longer bleeding, and no longer pregnant. Lucius was shocked at how fast it was - from the brink of disaster to this appearance of calm.

"I'll get cleaned up. We ought to bring her to St Mungo's with your father. They're good at dealing the aftermath of this kind of trouble there."

"No, she'll stay in her home. I can bring anything she needs here."

"She should be seen by her own people, Lucius. I'm no expert. And you need to get your father there, anyway. He's insane, Lucius."

"Sebastian Malfoy will not be incarcerated for a tragic accident, Morgan."

"He tried to kill your wife!"

"If he had, she'd be dead. He is a powerful enough wizard to kill someone successfully without using secateurs!"

"So you're saying they were both tending the flowers when he tripped and fell on her, twice?"

Lucius silenced him with a look. "I'll go talk to my father now, Morgan. Thank you for your help. I won't forget it. I am indebted to you. And I trust I can rely on your discretion when I take care of my father."

Morgan didn't like the sound of that at all. "He belongs at St. Mungo's."

"He belongs at home. I'll see to it he'll harm no one."

Morgan was quiet for a long moment. "As you wish, Lucius. He's your father. I'd better be going."

"Morgan, this episode stays within these walls."

"Of course, Lucius. I understand," he said, opening the front door. "Owl me if you need any more help."

"Thank you, I will."

Lucius closed the door and thought about leaning his forehead against the frame for a moment. No, that would be too weak. His head felt like it was going to explode. But he had to see his father, headache or no. He climbed back up the stairs heavily. Voldemort was sitting next to the bed, reading.

"I had to Stupefy him to keep him still. He was raving."

"Let's hope he is more in control now."

"He'll be very weak, Lucius. He was hit with a heart stunning spell out in the garden."

"It didn't affect him much. He's Gibraltar," he said dully. "I haven't thanked you yet for what you did. You saved her life, Voldemort. If you hadn't gotten his wand from him in time...I'm very grateful."

"I'm happy to help you in any way I can, my friend. You and your family." Voldemort rose from his chair. "I'll leave you two alone to talk. May I look in on Narcissa?"

"Yes, of course."

Voldemort closed the door as he left. Lucius looked at the black wand on the nightstand - ebony, with a silver snakehead handle. An old treasure. Very dear, very dangerous. Serpent thoughts, that coil around me. Reality's dark dream. Lucius pointed his own wand at his father and said Ennervate! Sebastian's eyes fluttered open.

"Lucius." he whispered.

"Father."

"What happened?"

"You tried to kill my wife, Father. You failed."

"No."

"First you let Damon try to take her from me, then you tried to take her away. You both failed, Father. I will not allow you to interfere with my family anymore."

"Lucius, you don't understand. She killed my son."

"On the contrary father, I understand all too well. I understand perfectly," he said in a clipped voice. Tears were welling in his father's eyes as Lucius kissed his father's forehead, running down his face. Lucius remembered when his mother died. Eleanor cried for weeks. He and his father never shed a tear. He never cried for Eleanor. He couldn't even remember if his father had cried for Damon. Well, he would uphold the standards, he thought as he stood and pointed his wand at his father with a shaking hand and said "Imperio!" It was ridiculously easy to control Sebastian's mind. He wasn't used to the Imperius Curse as Voldemort wielded it, and his defences came down in seconds. He didn't have the heart to fight any more. When Lucius told him to sleep, to dream, and never to move again, he almost smiled. He was wrapped in the warmth of his son's affection. He had no desire to leave it. He was so tired. Tired to death.

Lucius left the room and closed the door firmly behind him. Voldemort came out of Narcissa's room, and looked at him curiously. Calmly, he closed the door behind him.

"She's sleeping peacefully, Lucius. She'll be fine."

"As is my father."

"Good. Are you prepared now?"

"To serve you?"

"You'll be my family Lucius. I'll help you; I'll protect you - and you'll help me - like my wand, or my right hand - only I'll love you more and trust you less. We can help each other, Lucius. You can't handle this alone - no one can. Are you ready?"

Ready? He'd just dungeoned up his father in his own body, killed his own child. If Voldemort hadn't been there, he'd have lost Narcissa, too. What did he have to lose? Everything - and nothing. He needed control. Controlling others is strength; controlling yourself is power. He needed both. "Yes, I'm ready"

He started to push up his sleeve, stained with his wife's blood and his father's tears. Then he stopped. "Wait. Give me an Imperius first."

"Second thoughts?"

"Forethoughts. If anyone asks, I want to be able to say I was under Imperius. Through Veritaserum, if I must."

"'The Devil made me do it?' No thinking person will believe that."

"It's not the thinking people I want to convince."

"What a slippery friend you are, Lucius! Very well - my first gift to you - plausible deniability. Imperio!

Lucius felt the warm feeling spread through him. Then Voldemort brought Lucius's arm to his lips and kissed it. A moment later, he stopped the curse. Lucius looked down on the mark on his arm. "When I call, the Mark will burn. When I call, you'll come to me."

"Yes, my lord. Thank you."