Harry Potter One Shots

Lucissa: Our Kind of Love

Lucius's POV
Details: His return from Azkaban

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The lanterns illuminating the street around me flicker as the dreary carriage I'm being transported in passes by. Specifically, as the three dementors traveling in front of the carriage travel past. Even the presence of light seems to be victim to their vast emptiness. Of course, I pretend I'm used to the suffering they force upon me. But after five, solitary years of imprisonment, pretending is all I'm able to do.

The dementors' cursed effects have never stopped wearing on my mind since the moment I stepped foot in Azkaban. I can tell they just love to torture me with all of the things I've done. All of the countless deaths I've seen. All of the screams I couldn't stop ripped from the throats of my wife and my only son. The torture has faded to a constant noise in the background, always present, always waiting to consume my mind if I slip up. It's as if I've forgotten what it feels like to have a soul.

The carriage bumps again, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my already-weakened knees. I grit my jaw and keep my head down, suppressing the feelings that should be running through me. My torturers feed on happiness. They feed on pain. On despair. There's no winning against them except for surviving. It's a cruel lesson for a cruel man.

An in-humane screech comes from one of the creatures in front of the carriage and the vehicle, if this unholy things can be called a vehicle, comes to a scrapping halt. The chains around my wrists twist violently as I'm thrown against the seat in from of me. There's a sickening crunch as my nose takes the brunt of the collide. I try not to gag as a metallic taste fills the back on my throat.

Before I can gauge the damage to my potentially-broken nose, the door to the carriage is thrown open. A faceless creature in the doorway moves back from the barred window silently, intent clear. I stumble out of the carriage, landing on my knees roughly. I clench my teeth hard to keep from crying out, filling my mouth with more blood. The dementor sweeps in closer, making the night are me even colder. I fight the screams and stand shakily, the only thing keeping me going at this point is the knowledge Cissa is less than a block away. I had five years to give up on this life. I'm not about to now with her so close.

"I'm coming," I spit out, blood trickling down my chin in a very unpleasant manner. Then again, not bathing in months is also a very unpleasant manner of living. I'm not quite sure I have the right to judge these types of things. But that's not going to stop me.

Two of the guarding dementors regroup and start eerily floating down the street with the third staying behind me. Torture to walk ahead; torture to stay behind. I start limping down the road, trying to keep up with the disgusting ghosts. I take a sharp breath, trying to take the edge off my anger before they can sense it as well.

I limp on for another half mile, stumbling too many times to count and feeling every single bruise and cut I've acquired in, at least, the past year. After what feels like walking through hell and back, the foul demons stop in front of a black gate I never thought I could see again. I'm not sure what Narcissa did to lessen my sentence of twenty years, but now I simply owe her my life all over again.

A dementor moves closer and I flinch back on instinct as the chill strikes against my heart. A green flash of light threatens to blind me as an unnamed victim to the Dark Lord sickenly falls at my feet in a memory. The dark hood in front of me moves and I scowl as the chains around my wrist fall to the ground.

"I don't see the point in this," I mutter, rubbing my wrists only to find the raw skin once again cracked and bleeding. Why am I even taken aback by the pain anymore? The black gate opens in front of me and the dimly illuminated pathway up to the Malfoy Manor becomes clear. The foul black ghouls move forwards and I follow, now even weaker from the added pains. After almost blacking out no less than four unmistakable times, I approach the front door. The light in the window to my left may be the brightest light I've ever seen.

But the instant she opens the door, everything changes just like it did the day I first caught sight of Narcissa so long ago.

"Lucius," she breathes, grey eyes filling with tears the second our eyes meet. It's not until I see the heartbreak in her face that I remember I have a heart of my own.

"Cissa," I manage to say hoarsely before the dementors interrupt this record-worst family reunion.

"Away with you. He's here unharmed. So LEAVE our family alone," Narcissa commands, eyes instantly ablaze with the fire I fell in love with so long ago. She whips her wand out and angles it at them, pulling me behind her roughly. The sudden motion leaves my head spinning as I stumble behind the doorframe. I hear one last in-human shriek before the voices in my head disappear completely and my knees buckle.

*****

"Sit STILL Lucius," Cissa's chiding brings me back to my senses while a burning sensation shoots up my arm. I groan and open my eyes slowly to find her leaning over me like an angel. Her white hair immediately falls straight into my eyes and the moment is ruined. I blink rapidly and she pulls away with a huff.

"Ow," I mutter, glancing down to where she appears to be dabbing something onto a long, dirty cut in my arm. I can't even remember where it came from at this point.

"That wouldn't happen if you sat still," she says sharply, dabbing more stuff onto the open wound. I suck in air through my teeth and close my eyes. The pain goes on for a moment longer before numbness sets in, offering slight relief. "There," she comments softly, wrapping the wound up firmly. I stretch my arm to test it and immediately wince. I look up to see her giving me a look of disapproval.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my throat choking on the words, "For every single thing I've ever done to cause this."

"I know," is all my wife says, looking away for a second before standing up. "Don't be an idiot. I'll be right back," Narcissa leaves the room briskly, leaving me in the silence. Actual silence without screaming. The ability to have my own mind back nearly makes me break down on the couch right then and there. I close my eyes again and breath in the scent of my old home. Unfortunately, that means I breathe in a fair amount of the stench that is rubbing alcohol.

Cissa walks back in with a new bowl of water and cloth. From the looks of the bloodied bandages around me and my apparent lack of a shirt, I'd say she's been fixing up various wounds all night. She's as strong and resilient as ever, all while looking perfect. A perfect angel with too many worry lines and dark shadows under her eyes, all of which I fear I may be the cause the of...

"Narcissa," I start softly, trying to sit up. She places a firm, yet gentle, hand on my shoulder and forces me back down.

"I know," she repeats, looking me in the eyes. "I've had five years to think about this all."

In a moment of utter grace, she tells me the words I never dreamed I could hear. The three words I know I should never deserve to hear. And they break me more than Azkaban ever could.

"I forgive you."