Grievances, Past and Present
"How many other men named Lucius do you know?" He muttered.
"You're alive!?" Arthur gasped, sounding thunderstruck.
"Of course I'm alive, Weasley. Is that really so astonishing?" Lucius responded, avoiding eye contact by pretending to continue to peruse the flowers.
"Rumors were going around that you were…. dead. Hadn't been seen in public in months. Seemed crazy at first, but a lot of people started to believe them."
"You included? Wishful thinking, perhaps, Arthur." Lucius spat, almost sounding defensive. He sighed.
"Either way, I'm still standing, somehow."
Even if I've felt dead since it happened. He thought.
He bit the words back. He couldn't expose his private feelings to this man.
He felt a hand clasp around his shoulder.
"I wanted to offer my condolences." Arthur said. "I know we haven't gotten along in the past. But I truly am sorry for what happened to your son."
Lucius was completely frozen.
"...I know how it feels. To lose a child."
Except you have seven more.
And I had one.
Except your youngest is a war hero,
and I'm a criminal.
Except you don't fucking know how it feels.
We all suffered tenfold what you did.
His newfound peace had been broken. He felt a rage fuel up inside of him, like a fire with fresh wood thrown into it.
I'm going to break your fucking face. He thought.
Get your goddamn hand off my shoulder.
Lucius steadied his breath.
"I don't need your sympathy, Weasley." He uttered In a quiet hiss.
He bucked Arthur away with his shoulder, leaving him standing there, completely dumbstruck.
"He hasn't changed." Arthur thought.
"Not one bit."
When Lucius returned home, bouquet in hand, Narcissa practically collapsed onto him.
He was so shocked to be suddenly wrapped into an embrace that he almost dropped the flowers.
As she released him from her arms, she grasped his hand.
They walked outside together, making their way to the gravesite. They didn't speak, but their hands remained firmly clasped together.
They stopped walking at the foot of the grave, beautifully lined with flowers.
Lucius got on one knee and examined the finely carved text emblazoned on the stone.
"Draco L. Malfoy.
Beloved son and friend."
He laid down the bouquet. It consisted of Tulips, Black roses, and something else he had added.
Daisies.
From his own backyard.
He took a step back.
It's no longer missing a piece. He thought.
It's finally complete.
5 days later
Outside, Narcissa and Lucius sat side-by-side on a hill covered In daisies, watching the birds and occasionally picking the flowers.
Lucius looked at his wife.
She gently placed a hand on his face.
"How do you feel?" She asked.
Lucius smiled broadly at her.
He gave her only one word as an answer.
"Better."
Inside the manor, on a desk in Lucius's empty study, a single thick book laid open, flipped to a page covered in writing. Strewn parchments covered in notes were sprawled out miscellaneously over the page, obscuring some of the text. But on the top, in bold, uncovered letters, the page title read "The Deathly Hallows."
Fin.