Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Let\'s Call it a Truce	By : LLCoyote Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 9650 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Poter, I make no money off of this. I write for fun. This wonderful series of books is written by the fantastic JK Rowling.

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War makes people... desperate, or so he'd always heard. Lucious Malfoy had never believed in such things but when would he have had to? His life was fairly perfect... until the second Wizarding War. To this day he wasn't sure if he made one good decision during that time... or perhaps he'd made all good decisions and nothing worked out. Regardless it was all over now. He'd spent a year to the day in Azkaban with no hope of escape or early release. Even offering to rat out others wasn't enough to land him and his wife less than four years in this awful place. Only a year had they been imprisoned and Lucious honestly couldn't care about anything. If it wasn't about his wife, son, or freedom it no longer mattered. Former prejudices seemed far away and foolish. The thoughts of purity seemed ludicris by now. None of it had been worth what had happened. Almost loosing his son, being imprisoned, seperated from his wife by these terrible people. Lucious thought he would go mad. Perhaps he had a bit. At least Draco was free. He was living in the manor with Severus. Safe from the world and free to do as he pleased. Draco had stopped writting him, in his last letter he said there was nothing more to say until he was home. His mother was still in his good graces, she hadn't let him down so severely during the war. She hadn't pushed him away. He still wrote to her daily and Narcissa wrote to Lucious and conveyed their son's sorrows. He was alone and scared, with no sense of responsibilty. Without Severus the business would have gone completely under and Draco would surely have lost even more than he already had. According to Snape's letters to Lucious Draco spent most days alone, in his room, staring into the fire light because the cutains were pulled tightly over his boarded up windows. He drank a lot too, and slept with tons of women. None of them seemed to please him. It all wore hard on his father. A man should be there, teaching his son. Not leaving him the discarded peices of war's aftermath.

When they came to his cell that day he didn't fight them. It never did anyone any good to fight them. They drug him carelessly down the hall and tossing him in a metal cage. It was something they put all prisoner's in for trial. Lucious was starting to get confused. Had Draco sprung them free? Were they finally getting out of this hell hole? The cage shifted and screeched as it was levitated into the air behind a group of Aurors. Down the musky, dark hall with no light they carried him. He was slumped against the bars, his hands hanging out of her front and his forehead pressed firmly against them. When they rounded a corner another group met up with them, carrying Narcissa. She was frazzled and looked terrified. Her blue eyes sprung with tears as she saw him. Desperatly her filthy, thin, pale hand jutted out of the bars as she tried to reach his. Lucius did the same... but they couldn't even come close. The aurors litterally laughed at them and continued on their way down the hall at an agonizingly slow pace.

Azkaban was hell to get out of. It was hell to get in too, over all the place was just hell. Four security checks to use one floo. It was both rediculous and exaughsting. Lucius didn't even bother to pry himself away from the bars, slumped against them like a poor bum. Good gracious what he would give for a drink! He'd settle for the light though. Azkaban was so bleeding dark and depressing it made even his skin crawl. They threw a gob of powerder into the fireplace carelessly. It flew all directions, including his wife's nose. She sputtered and coughed, her little body shaking terribly with each spasum of her diaphram. The very sight of her made his blood boil with fury. His wife, a bloody Malfoy! No a BLACK! The combination of two old and strong blood lines! Yet here she was, slumped over with hallow eyes. A witch that in day passed could have sparked fear into any wizard or witch's heart with but a glace was now a hollow shell of a woman. If he could have been less melincoly he would have smiled as the memory of both Draco and himself jumping to attention with a quirk of a brow. These people had, and still were, destroying the most marvolus creature he'd even meet. The best damn witch and wife any wizard could imagine, treated like little more than trash. Oh he loved her so much it hurt! It hurt to see her in a cage like a bloody animal! A silvery tear slipped down his face and onto the floor of the rusty iron cage as he mourned his lost life. Yes, he may as well been dead. A man that couldn't care for his wife, his family, had no right to be alive. The only thing that kept him trying was the determination of getting his wife out of here. Serverus had been hatching a plan with him for months now to bust her out. He'd happily hang himself in his cell if his wife was safe somewhere... but every road of escape had, even theoretically, lead to a dead end.

They didn't floo anywhere Lucius would have expected. Indeed they weren't in a court room, but inside of a house... or perhaps a library from all the damned books lining the walls. The room was made up of dark oak shelves and hard wood flooring. A red and blue persian rug that appeared to be four times his own age laid on the floor, looking ratty as hell. There were large chocolate brown leather chairs with gold studs holding their stuffing in and a small drink table over to the side of the room, a glass tumbler sat invitingly ontop of it. "Wait 'ere wit dem." One guard said gruffly, he smelled about as poorly as Lucius as he passed. The distintive limp in his stride would signal his return in only a few moments. The door seemed to open again as soon as it shut behind the guard. Kingsley Shacklebot and a man Lucius did not know nervously entered. Kinglsey looked far more confident than his company as they took seats in the chairs before them. The second man was plump, with tiny round glasses strung on his tiny pig nose. His hair was grey and missing from the top of his head, and his green eyes seemed to buldge from their sockets. Nervously he licked his cracked lips and attempted to pull his brown waist coat tighter to himself. It would do no good for his belly was simply begging to burst free from the confinement. Plump was the wrong word, Lucius decided, this man was fat. He sat in the high back chair, puffing in and out for breath. It was clear that he was terrified for reasons Lucius couldn't understand.

"I am aware you must be confused Lucius." Kingsley said pointedly. Curtly, Lucius raised his chin and leveled his blue eyes on the minister cooly, "Mr. Malfoy. Do not pretend as though we are friends [i]Minister[/i]" The last word was littlerally spat from hit mouth. Narcissa cleared her throat gently, "Lucius." She admonished ever so softly, begging him not to loose his temper and get himself in trouble. However the minister just nodded stiffly, "I understand Mr. Malfoy. I was simply trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable." He took a long drink of what ever alcohol that was in his glass and grimanced as if it hurt. Before Lucis could even begin to speak Kingsley began to explain, "You see Mr. Malfoy, the ministry has found itself charged with a problem that is particularly difficult to fix... " He trailed off and with disregard to his comfort downed the rest of his drink. "Well spit it out. I would so love to get back to rotting to death in your most accomodating prison cell." He hissed, the dark circles under his eyes only made him look more intimidating.

"Mr. Bouyeh perhaps you could explain better than I?" Kingsley said, trying to shrug some of the awkwardness onto another person. The roung man practically spat out his drink, choking and hissing as he tried to regain breath. "M-me?" His eyes rounded at the minsiter, who only nodded and stood to pour himself another drink. This time he prepaired two more glasses and gently set them down on the bars of both his and Narcissa's cages. "It's a muggle drink, but it's all I have. Burbon I believe it's called." He said dismissivly. Lucius didn't care. With out any care for manners he snatched the glass and took a big gulp. The burn down his throat signaled the soon coming release the drink would bring to his tortured brain. Narcissa stuck with only sipping at her's. She'd never been a big drinker any way. "W-well Mr. M-M-Malfoy. Se-several m-m-mon-thss--" Lucius cut him off with a hard glare, "If you aren't going to speak any more clearly than that I assure you I am uninterested in what ever it is you feel so prudent to say." Manners be damned, he wouldn't have the man talking like an invalid. It wasn't his job to decifer what was said to him in conversation. Esspecially not if he planned on getting drunk. The man's face reddened and he seemed about to explode all over the walls, "Right... y- I mean yes." He took a deep breath and smoothed some imaginary wrinkles out of his tan trousers. A distinctive woosh from the movement was all that broke the silence in the room for a moment or two before he caught the courage to speak.

"You see not long after the fall of... the dark lord," He winced visably. "We were contacted by a society of magical creatures... very dangerous creatures called, Toitztas." Lucius leaned back against the cage and burst out laughing. "Surely you have better things to do Shacklebot?!" He practically shouted through his laughing fit. Bouyeh's face reddened again, "What the devil is so funny?!" He demanded, shaking a little in his seat. Lucius was on his ass now, waving his drink above his head. "What's funny?! Ha HA! What's funny," He stood and leaned against the front of the iron cage, "Is that you would waste your time to pull me out of my cell simply to jest with me!" He chortled, finally stiffling the maddened laughter, and downed his drink. "I do not je-" Lucius cut him off, "Every one knows that Toitzas are a myth dear man, and I will not be made a fool of." The last part was a hard warning. The fat man gulped hard on the air, "Mr. Malfoy... I assure you this is no joke." He pulled a vile out of his pocket and tossed it to Lucius. Graciously he uncorked it and sniffed, "Virita syrum?" He questioned, no way was he drinking this. The man held out a thick hand and curled his fingers twice, signaling to toss it back. Lucius happily did, if only to chuck something at the damned tosser. The man pulled the top off and dumped the contents down his throat without question. "Now, look me in the eye Mr. Malfoy, and ask me if I jest, ask me why I summoned you here." His words were brave and slurred, he was drunk and under the potion's effect... no way could he lie. "Fine, why am I here?" He asked impatiently.

The man pushed his glasses up his tiny nose, "I am here because after the war our department was contacted by the King of the islands. King Ri'emart, lord and king to the Toitzas." When the man didn't budge and inch, Lucius knew this was true, his face became sullen. "True or not Sir, what the devil does this have to do with me." He asked, boredom etched onto his face falsely. He was actually extremely interested, but wouldn't say that aloud. "Yes well... the letter reads, " The man pulled a crumpled peice of yellow parchment out of his waist coat, "Blah blah blah, royal decree, blah blah, your war has crippled us all... here we are, it reads 'There for I have decided to issue an ultimatum. Either a magic bond will be created, and two highly important memeber of our society's shall join in marriage, or we will wage war against you all. After such a short time your chances of survival are slim at the very best and while I detest putting you and your people in such a possition we will not have you turn against us. A treety will be signed by the end of the week, or by the end of the month you will be terminated.'" The man locked eyes with Lucius. "I see... that is very unfortunate, seeing as I have no desire to be brutally murdered... but what does this had to do with me besides that point?" He questioned, downing what was left of the awful muggle drink. "I am, unfortunatly for you, a married man." He said with a low grumble. Kingsley cleared his throat. "But your son... is not."
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Let\'s Call it a Truce