themightyflynn: (Slytherin)
[personal profile] themightyflynn posting in [community profile] theiceroyals
Title: Family Matters
Author: [personal profile] themightyflynn
Word count: 1179
Rating: G
Summary: Nearly four months after the end of the war, the Malfoy family isn't coping so well.
Notes: Written based off the monthly picture prompt on [community profile] theiceroyals
This is the first in a series of fics. It will be updated once a month as the prompts come out on the comm!

August 20, 1998

The small black and white photograph trembled a little in Narcissa’s hand. Two figures moved in the picture, laughing together. Her eyes stayed fixed to them, her heart stuttering in her chest.

Draco’s chubby little almost-three-year-old legs wobbled as he stood on the marble vanity unit, watching Lucius’ every move. Appearing to stare intently into the mirror, Lucius was going through his morning ritual. He had just gotten out of the shower and the air was scented with the warm, spicy cologne that he favoured. He’d already cast a charm to keep the mirror from fogging up again due to the heat of the shower and had moved onto shaving. It was one of the few things that he never used a charm for, and the motions captured Draco’s attention like nothing else Narcissa had ever seen. It seemed that Lucius wasn’t paying any attention to the small child beside him, but Narcissa knew better than what the picture showed. In her memory, Lucius’ hand twitched towards Draco every time he wobbled, making sure that their tiny son was safe.

Moisture gathered in Narcissa’s eyes as she watched Lucius grin in the photograph before swiping three of his fingers down Draco’s face, leaving a sticky line of shaving cream in their wake. Narcissa had been absolutely certain that Draco would pitch a fit; he had never liked feeling dirty, even when he was a child. She was saved from the ear-splitting wail Draco was capable of, however, when he wiped his own fingers through the mess, moving it over his face. Draco watched Lucius intently again for a few seconds before turning to the mirror and beginning to ‘shave’, imitating his father.

Narcissa jumped as a door slammed further back in the Manor. An angry voice echoed down the hall, but she ignored it for the time being. The figures in the photograph were so happy; so innocent. It had been a time in their lives where everything had been good for once, with nothing to worry her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, keeping the image of her happy husband and son in her mind’s eye for as long as she could.

“…you ungrateful–”

Ungrateful? Tell me, Father, what precisely is there for me to be grateful to you for?”

“You dare to take that tone with me in my own home?”

“Perhaps you wish me to be grateful for forcing me into an impossible situation where death faced me every day?”

“While you are living under my roof–”

“The roof that housed a series of rapists, murderers, and Merlin-knows-what else?”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy…”

“No, Father, I…”

Narcissa let her breath out in a rush. Placing the photograph carefully back into the album, she took a few seconds to steady herself before rising to her feet. The voices sounded as though they were coming from right outside her conservatory, making them difficult to ignore.

“I will not be spoken to like this–”

“Because I must stay in line, right? Be the dutiful son: seen, but never heard?”

Her fingers shaking as she reached for the doorhandle, Narcissa’s teeth clenched. In the almost four months since the end of the war and The Dark Lord’s defeat, the relationship between Lucius and Draco had been steadily disintegrating. The pressure of living through the aftermath of the war was something that neither had ever thought about, Narcissa figured. Lucius because he had never considered a world where he had lost everything; Draco because he had clearly thought he had little chance of seeing the end of the war. Narcissa turned the doorhandle and stepped out into the hall.



Both men froze the second they realised that they were no longer alone. Lucius stood to Narcissa’s right, his hand clenched on the head of his cane. Draco, on the other hand, had clearly been on his way out of the house. His entire body was rigid, the muscles in his neck standing out and his hands clenched by his sides. His breathing was heavy and colour tinted his cheeks a bright red, contrasting incredibly with his pale skin.


“Cissa, dear.”

Lucius tilted his head in her direction, regal under pressure as always. It took Draco a few more seconds to compose himself. With his eyes closed, he took several deep breaths before re-opening them and offering Narcissa a small bow.

“Mother. I apologise that you had to hear that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Narcissa merely raised an eyebrow. Taking one more step into the hall so she could close the door behind her with a soft click, she held a hand up to halt Lucius when he went to offer her his arm.

“Is this truly the way Malfoy men are supposed to conduct themselves? Is nothing beneath either of your dignity anymore?”


Draco paused. Narcissa caught a glimpse of his lips pressed tightly together before he ducked his head. Watching him, she could see her tiny baby boy in the way he rubbed his palms on his woollen trousers; the way his fringe flopped across his forehead. He had not yet gained the control over his emotions that Lucius had acquired over the years, and Narcissa automatically gave him a few seconds to compose himself.

“I apologise again, Mother. I know my behaviour was out of line. If you’ll excuse me?”

He didn’t even wait for Narcissa’s response before making good his escape. She turned to Lucius with a raised eyebrow.

“That child has become unmanageable in the past few months.”

That child is your son, Lucius. He is now a man grown, whether you wish to see it or not.”

“A man grown, Narcissa? Is that how you wish me to see him? My own son, who has chosen to go back to Hogwarts the year after he graduated, so he can ‘earn’ his education. It’s so… Plebeian.”

It was a struggle for Narcissa to keep the smile off her face at the disgusted look on her husband’s face. “Not everyone wishes to fast-track their lives, Lucius. You must know that.”

“I did not fast-track my life. I–” Lucius cut himself off with a roll of his eyes as Narcissa held up a hand to quiet him again. “You know I do not appreciate being silenced, Cissa.”

“Give him time, Lucius, that is all I ask.”

It appeared for a few seconds as though Lucius was going to object, but he held his tongue. Holding out his free hand to her, he smiled.

“Is that truly all you would ask of me, my dear?” The change of atmosphere his words caused was almost palpable. “Or is there something… else?”

With a shake of her head, Narcissa allowed herself to be pulled to his chest, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back. There was one good thing about Lucius being placed under house arrest for what the Ministry termed his ‘crimes’ during the war: she had him all to herself during the day.
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