The Fearsome Name of Riddle

War Has Begun

Lucius Malfoy did not live alone in the vast halls of Malfoy Manor. Though the empty rooms echoed, his wife and son still lived within the walls. Narcissa tried her best and Draco planned to follow Astoria to the Paris Institute of Magical Learning now that he had finished retaking his final year at Hogwarts. Life went on and yet Lucius felt paralysed in a painful past. The isolation of remembering his mother's life felt consuming.

He sat alone in the ballroom, looking up at the tall columns around the room and trying to remember them draped in dark green and silver ribbons that stretched up to the second floor. A balcony wrapped around the room, accessed from above, its metal railing twisted and turned in intricate patterns. It had been so beautiful once. But as he looked at it, the crack in one of the columns where one of Voldemort's curses had missed its target glared out at him. A dark stain clung to the hardwood floor where they couldn't manage to remove the blood. Not even the door shut properly anymore.

"If you're planning our next party," Narcissa Malfoy said, a slight smile on her lips with a look of pity in her eyes, "I'm afraid I don't think we'll get many guests."

A soft chuckle left Lucius' mouth as he hung his lead low. He was sitting on a bench at the edge of the large room, his elbows rested on his knees. Everything felt like his fault. He had watched his mother suffer and yet, he let Lord Voldemort back into her house for a second time and now it was ruined.

"Do you remember the party Voldemort threw to mark the beginning of the war?" Lucius asked, lifting his gaze to allow himself to look at her soft smile. His saving grace. "It was the summer before my sixth year I think, your fifth."

"I do." Narcissa nodded, the lines next to her eyes showing her age as she smiled. "I remember feeling very grown up in my new dress and not really caring what the party was for. Andromeda had just left, so I think I wasn't much fun for you."

"You were perfect, as you always are," Lucius said softly with a gentle smile, reaching out for her hand. "You've always been far too good for me."

"Yes," Narcissa agreed with a smirk, nodding as she sat down beside him. "And yet here I am still, right beside you. Does that make me insane?"

"I would never call you such a thing," Lucius laughed, leaning into her shoulder. He went quiet for a moment, a lump forming in his throat as he stared at the crack in the stone, flashes of Lord Voldemort's snake-like appearance racing across his mind. "I tried to be good. To you at least, and to Draco. I didn't want him to understand the kind of fear I knew but... I failed."

"You're not your father, Lucius," Narcissa reassured him, holding his hand tightly in both of hers. "You never have been."

"Do you promise?"

"I do."

#####

1970

Music filled the ballroom of Malfoy Manor, a swinging jazz that danced off the walls draped in dark green and silver ribbons and filled the room with a light buzz. Death Eaters in extravagant dress robes, rich silks and lace, stood around with glasses of champagne, making idle conversation. A waft of cigar smoke lingered in the air, escaping occasionally out the open door. Victoria Malfoy stood near the large wooden doors, crystal glass in hand, next to a tall boy with shoulder length black curly hair. His dark brown eyes and charming smirk all too similar to his father.

"How's married life suiting you, Rodolphus?" She asked him, her eyes watching her son try and comfort the blonde girl he cared for so deeply. Losing a sister had hit Narcissa hard though she seemed to be able to maintain her stiff upper lip in public at least.

Rodolphus shrugged, a lazy chuckle on his lips as his eyes raked over his Lord's wife. "It's fine, I suppose. Not much of a hassle, not much has changed. Bellatrix doesn't seem very interested in me, just as distracted as you were."