The One Where Lucius Married Remus
My Mother, the Werewolf
June 5, 1980, 13:43hr
Master Bedrooms, West Wing, Malfoy Manor
"Lucius Abraxas Ulysses Constantine Malfoy. I'm going to murder you."
Lucius gulped. Well, he would have, anyway, had Malfoys been those who gulp in fear. As it was, they weren't so he didn't, but he came very, very close.
Now why, may you ask, is Lucius Malfoy seconds from running away screaming in abject terror like a frightened little girl? Well, it could have something to do with the look his husband was currently giving him. Or the fact that, with the full moon so near, his teeth were rather pointed-looking and his fingers rather long and nails rather sharp. Or maybe even that his beloved wolf was halfway through labor with their firstborn child.
Nope, definitely the look.
It was one that promised a good deal amount of pain in the near future, especially when coupled with the Tone. Everyone and their aunt's husband's brother's neighbor's dog twice removed knew that when Remus was angry and talking calmly, someone was going to be stuck in the hospital wing for a fair bit amount of time wishing they hadn't been anywhere near Remus that day. Alaska sounded like a nice place to hide out.
Not that a Malfoy would stoop to hiding of course. Gracious no. It was unheard of. Unthinkable even. Where'd he put that emergency portkey?
"If you would kindly hand me my wand so I may do just that, I would appreciate it, thank you."
"Mr. Lupin!" The midwife Lucius had hired several months before (best in her field, of course) gave him an unhappy, scandalized look. "What did I tell you about using magic during your last trimester? Kill him later." Remus almost looked like he was pouting, but that was quickly gone as he gasped sharply in pain as a contraction hit.
"I'm sure it can't be worse than the full moon," Lucius muttered, not daring to speak louder. Apparently, Remus heard him anyway as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"Would you like to find out, dear husband?"
Lucius was seriously tempted to gulp. Again.
"…er… no, not really." All Malfoy pride and composure was well and thrown out of the window by this point. Remus was just scary.
"Lucius… we're getting you fixed after this…" Remus growled though another contraction. Lucius took a few steps backwards.
"Now, really, Remus," he protested weakly. "Is that truly necessary?"
"I could always kill you instead."
Lucius remained silent.
Two hours, a few hundred threats to both life and manhood, and a Lucius who was mentally writing his will later, a pink, wailing infant was gently placed into the arms of her tired and sweaty patient by the smiling and vastly amused midwife.
"Congratulation, Remus dear. It's a boy." Remus looked at his new son through lidded eyes, smiling softly. The child stopped crying after a minute, hiccupping softly as he stared up at his mother through ice blue eyes sporting streaks of amber. The curious tilt of his head almost overpowered the obvious Malfoy Look of, 'Who are you, peasant, and why are you staring at me?' that all Malfoys (or at least the ones he had met) sent toward the people who gaped at them as they passed in the streets. He looked up at his husband, who looked as though he was trying to decide if his manhood was safe or not. Remus quirked his lips in amusement.
"Lucius, come look at your son."
Relieved, Lucius stepped forward and looked down at the child in something akin to wonderment. The Malfoy Veela genes were obviously very strong in the child with the soft tufts of golden hair already sprouting from his head that would lighten with age. But the wolf remained, he noticed; the amber flakes in his son's eyes and strength in his hands as the infant grasped one of his father's fingers.
"He's beautiful," Lucius murmured. He looked up into his husband's eyes. "What shall we call him, love?" Remus gazed at his son for a moment, running a finger softly down his cheek as the infant yawned silently and fell asleep.
"Draco. Draco Conan Lucius Malfoy."
November, 1985
Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley
It was snowing lightly, the kind of snow that makes wonderful snowmen and is perfect for snowball fights. Diagon Alley was decked out beautifully for Christmas, just as it was every year, but somehow the perfect weather made it even more so. The shops were beginning to fill up with early Christmas shoppers, mostly those who hated the last minute rush and the suffocating crowds of mid December. One of the least crowded shops was Flourish and Blotts; it was always fullest the week before Christmas with desperate last-minute shoppers who didn't know what else to get for those they found hardest to shop for. Practically empty was just how Lucius Malfoy liked it, fewer shoppers meant less people likely to bother him while he searched for the book his husband had been hinting about for the past six weeks.
"Father." Lucius Malfoy paused his perusal of the bookshelf to look down at his son.
"Yes, Draco?" Draco frowned, brows furrowed in a remarkable impression of his mother when he was thinking very hard about something.
"Why does Mother not come with us?" Lucius was silent for a moment, glancing around quickly for possible eavesdroppers.
"That is neither a discussion for here or now, Draco. Ask me again when we return home."
Draco frowned again but didn't protest. He was almost completely silent for the rest of the trip down Diagon Alley, speaking only when his father asked him a question. Almost as soon as they'd stepped out of the floo and dusted the snow and soot off of themselves he asked again.
"Father, why does Mother not come with us?" Lucius sighed and called for a house elf to take their coats and purchases and another to bring refreshments to the back drawing room.
"Draco, do you remember what I told you when you asked me where your mother went a few nights out of every month?" Draco nodded. He sat very still with his hands folded together in his lap and stared at his father openly. Lucius quickly hid an amused smile; Draco looked exactly like Lucius but acted very much like Remus.
"Yes. You said it was because he was a werewolf and goes somewhere especially for him to transform."
"That's right. It is for the same reason your mother does not come with us to Diagon Alley." Draco furrowed his brows in confusion.
"But what does being a werewolf have to do with shopping?" Lucius signed wearily.
"Everything. You will soon learn, Draco, that not everyone looks upon werewolves in the same light as we do. Most of the wizarding world ostracizes werewolves for being dark creatures; for turning into a wolf on the full moon. They believe them to be bloodthirsty monsters and look upon them with fear and disgust." Lucius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Right now there is legislation floating around the ministry that would not bode well for werewolves should it pass into law. Many wizards are for this law, however, there are others like myself who are fighting against it. Until it is decided one way or another, it would not be… safe for your mother to be seen in such places as Diagon Alley."
"Mother is a Malfoy," Draco said sharply, scowling. "No one would dare do anything to him." Lucius's mouth quirked in amusement.
"That is true, however, it is not widely known that your mother and I are wed. We have been very diligent in keeping it to ourselves and close friends and family. You would do well to help us keep it that way, at least for now." Draco huffed and glared sullenly at the carpet.
"It's not fair." Lucius eyed his son and sipped at his tea.
"No, Draco. It isn't fair at all." They sat in silence for a long while before they heard the distinct sounds of someone coming through the floo.
"Hello? Lucius, Draco, are you home?" Draco perked up and hopped off the couch to rush to the door.
"We're in the back room, Mother!" Draco called out the door. Lucius stood and laid a hand on his shoulders, giving him a stern look.
"Now, not a word of our discussion to your mother, Draco." Draco nodded in understanding.
"Yes, Father."
"Ah, there you are!" Remus smiled brightly at them, brushing the snow out of his hair, cheeks flushed from the cold. "Did you both have fun today?" He gave Lucius a chaste kiss while Draco attached himself to his leg.
"Yes! Quality Quidditch Supplies had a brand new training broom out, you should have seen it! It goes a whole fifteen feet into the air, instead of ten like the old one, and goes up to twenty miles an hour…."
August, 1990
Madam Malkin's, Diagon Alley
Draco waited rather impatiently on the stool for the tape to finish taking his measurements. His eyes roamed the shop impassively, taking in the seamstresses rushing to and fro, the various robe designs tacked onto the wall, and the pair of scissors fighting in the corner. He watched the fight for a moment until one of the seamstresses jabbed at them angrily with her wand and broke it up, then switched his attention to another boy being led to the footstool next to him. He was a bit taller, obviously a few years older than him. Probably a first or second year at Hogwarts. The boy turned and stared at him.
"Hey, you. Are you starting Hogwarts too?" Draco frowned, wondering whether or not to answer.
"Not yet," he said finally. "I have to wait until next year."
"Oh. I thought you were kind of short for eleven anyway." Draco narrowed his eyes. The boy either didn't notice or wasn't paying attention as he continued to prattle. "My sister starts next year too. My brother's a fourth year. He won't let me read any of his books, though. He says he doesn't want me to get ideas."
"Hm." Draco stared out of the window blankly and tried to tune him out. It wasn't easy, though, and he caught a few random comments about Quidditch, his family, and Hogwarts, in which he made a few noncommittal noises to feign interest.
"Hey, hey, look there. Who's that man staring into the window?" Draco blinked and turned his head slightly. He straitened up a bit and smiled as he caught sight of his mother watching him with an amused smirk. "Hey, isn't that the man that beat the new Ministry regulations on werewolves? Remis Leaping or something." Draco glared at the boy coldly.
"His name is Remus Lupin." The boy shrugged.
"Whatever. My mum says he lead the group that beat the new law to force werewolves to gain permission from the ministry to have kids. Mum says he's a werewolf himself, and that's why he fought against it so hard. She says the ministry shouldn't have backed down so easily. She says werewolves should all be gathered together and caged somewhere so we can keep an eye on them. That they're all just a bunch of animals, really." Draco's glare grew icy.
"Your mother is a twit." The boy turned to him, affronted.
"Hey, don't insult my mother like that!" Draco ignored him and continued.
"Remus Lupin is a hero. If it were up to the ministry, every werewolf in Britain would have been hunted down and killed for nothing other than turning into a wolf once a month. Thanks to him, the ministry had to start supplying Wolfsbane potion to every werewolf who couldn't afford it so they could keep their minds every month during their transformation. It's thanks to him that people like you are safe from werewolves on the full moon and that the werewolves hadn't turned against the ministry. You should be grateful for everything he's done." The kid's face had gone red during his speech, in either anger, embarrassment, or both.
"What's it to you, anyway. So what? He's still just a werewolf."
"He," Draco said, sneering at the other boy, "is no ordinary werewolf." He puffed his chest out in pride and smiled at Remus through the window. "He's my mother."