Stronger Than Silver

Held Hostage by the Crutches of the Dark Lord

Trigger Warnings: Bulimia, Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, Self-Harm, Abuse

(Author's Note: The opening of this chapter correlates to Chapter 1 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This chapter entails the scene of Voldemort confiscating Lucius' wand at that meeting; it includes Malfoy's thoughts. I hope I depicted Lucius slightly realistically here alongside his character arc. It includes the whole ordeal with "Malfoys don't need help," "Malfoys are never weak," "Malfoys do not look up to anyone besides the Dark Lord," etc. His pride does play a part in it all. I left y'all on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is coming soon!)

"Your wand, Lucius..." the Death Eaters sulking slump-backed at the extended surface of wood, could hear the slithering voice of the snake man. Severus Snape had just strolled into the poorly illuminated space of the Manor that used to belong to the Malfoys, and the Malfoys only. Alongside him was Yaxley. As usual. Lucius internally rolled his eyes at the oh-so-great-and-powerful taking his seat next to Dolohov. 

Lucius had cast a few glamour spells not because he wanted to look polished but because he could not present himself as a balding skeleton on legs with balloons as substitute cheeks and bloodshot eyes in front of the Dark Lord. The last event he wanted was for Lord Voldemort to uncover his awful binge-purge compulsions and addiction to slicing his wrists. Still, Lucius looked filthy and unkempt; what used to be silky, flowing blonde locks became greasy strands of oily hair akin to Severus Snape's. His skin was equally oleaginous; everything about him screamed hideously, but at least he did not look like he was one step away from a dementor's kiss. 

Draco, Narcissa, Severus, and Bellatrix had no idea what was wrong with him. Once again, he made sure that no one found out about his secret for several reasons. For starters, Lucius did not want them to be preoccupied with him. He did not require their worry, concern, or sympathy; he had dealt with obstacles on his own and would always do it alone. Suffer in silence. Wait for the pain to secede. Lash out secretly. Scream for help subconsciously. 

His pride had stopped him from being vulnerable and opening up to anyone. 

It had always been that way. His parents had never been there for him. 

No one had been. 

He had tried to be there for everyone, especially Narcissa and Severus, but no one had been there for him. 

Perhaps being vulnerable would have made him seem weak. Selfish, even. Lucius shuddered at the words. Weak and selfish. They were the two last types of people he wanted to be. He did not want to be fragile. He wished to be strong. Durable. Invincible. Powerful. Only potent individuals could succeed. Abraxas had admonished him on dozens of occasions for showing any sign of weakness. 

If Lucius cried or complained about his problems, he was a disappointment. Even one little protest could earn him a smack or a day without food. 

The little boy of only five learned to silence himself and bottle up his emotions. Never open up to anyone, Lucius. Do not cry for help. Do not let them perceive you any less than your public image. 

Lucius Malfoy was not weak; he was nothing less than perfect. He did not need anyone's help. 

I grew used to it, I guess. 

Lucius grew up believing that allowing anyone to see beneath his cover and listen to or comfort him was self-centered. At least, that was what he learned at Malfoy Manor. 

No one needs to hear about your problems; keep them to yourself! You aren't weak, are you? Solve them yourself! No one cares. NO ONE CARES! He had scolded himself continuously throughout his life.