The Malfoy Project

𝙽𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 #𝟼 - 𝙻𝚞𝚜𝚝

✼¹

     The rest of the meeting passed by in a daze. More riots, more violence, more bloodshed. It could all be distilled into one simple notion: Pure-bloods good, Mudbloods bad.

     I found out that the pregnant lady beside me is Amelia Snyde. Her unborn daughter's name was Merula. "Isn't that some kind of wart?" asked a man named Avery. "That's a verruca, you fucking idiot," one Corbin Yaxley shot back. 

     After an hour of this, Voldemort got out of his seat and, with the swiftness and grace of a stork taking flight, twisted and disappeared into a column of black, choking smoke. Business to attend to, he had said.

     One by one, the rest of the table got up and left to rejoin the thriving party on the other side of the house where no one was any the wiser. I stayed in my seat, breathless at what I had just witnessed, the things I had heard, for even my parents' impassioned discussions on the purity of blood over the years had not produced such impossibly wicked intent of cruelty to other human beings.

     "Coming?"

     Lucius and I were the only two left in the room. My head was spinning, the room along with it. I clutched the arms of my chair harder, pressing my palms against the heavy gold. "I think I'll just sit here for a bit," I said dazedly. "Much to think about."

     A moment passed as he considered my answer. "It's not as bad as they make it seem. At least we aren't the ones doing it."

     Was that supposed to comfort me? I looked up at him. The flickering light from the fire cast dancing shadows over one side of his face. It felt familiar to me, this half-light and half-dark.

     "How could you do this?" I didn't know if I was referring to the talk of violence or the fact he had opened the door, pulled the chair, sat me down in this godforsaken gathering. I hated that he had listened to Voldemort like a dog, a brainless lackey.

     "I said I would make you happy."

     "By sucking the dick of a wizard who thinks he can be immortal?"

     The uncouthness of my comment surprised him, but he covered it with a dry smile. "No, Cissy," he said slowly. "By guaranteeing the life I promised you."

     "I don't think spending the rest of my life at the service of someone who calls himself the Dark Lord is the ideal I had in mind."

     "Cissy," he rounded the table towards me, "the very foundation of both our family's empires were built on these same ideas. How else do you think we got to earn and keep our riches? By preserving our blood. By only marrying into families who are of equal worth and status. It is why we are the strongest wizards there are, why our names are uttered with reverence and respect in every household across the country. But there are people who seek to collapse that we have spent so much time and effort building. Generations of hard work and investments, washed away just because people with no magical abilities think they belong to a world that is magic. Where's the logic in that?"

     "I'm not saying we should let them rule us. But murder, Lucius?"

     "Have you forgotten that they were the ones who started it all? They took to the streets first. You don't bite the hand that feeds you."

     At a very young age, Father had taught our sisters that much. Keep your mouth shut and your head down. Never involve yourself in business that does not concern you, and you will get by safely. It was the way of life in our families, and only proven true when Bas and I had tried to rebel against the violence against the Squibs and half-bloods. And it struck me that there might be some truth to what Voldemort had said about me.