ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 34: Lynch Law

Malfoy Manor, April 15th

"You had to do the simplest task. Get into the school, kill the mudblood and leave unnoticed. That's all!"

Walburga Black in a tight black dress and leather smooth gloves paced around Malfoys' living room, clutching miniature hat with a veil in her hands. She was furious. Her narrow nostrils trembled, snow-white skin went red, and sharp painted black nails dug into the hat deeper with each new word.

Lucius watched Walburga indifferently but was forced to admit that that trash ─ Sirius Black ─ had plenty of courage in reserve since he ventured to go against this woman.

Erica Malfoy was sitting opposite her son on a broad cream-colored couch and obsequiously watching Mrs. Black. She adored Walburga considering her the ideal of a woman who managed to unite in herself a tender and faithful love for a family with inner spiritual power.

Erica was a good mother ─ caring, unobtrusive, quiet. She didn't contradict either her husband or her son, believing that, as a woman, she had nothing to do with business of adult men. She had no problems with Lucius's upbringing, he grew up as easygoing and thoughtful child, and any rebellion was instantly suppressed by firm word of his father.

Lucius loved Erica as far as he could ever feel love for another person. Mother gave birth to Lucius; father made him perfect. An ideal aristocrat, an ideal Slytherin, an ideal heir to the Malfoy family. Sometimes Lucius wondered if there was anything alive in him.

Strong, powerful, unshakable in his decisions and actions, Abraxas was a tyrant. He caused fear and awe in Lucius, and later ─ malice. When Malfoy Jr. entered Hogwarts, he inhaled with relief – he thought he had finally obtained the long-awaited freedom. But when your father is Abraxas Malfoy, there can be no real freedom.

"You can't make people love you, Lucy," Abraxas liked to repeat, "but you can make them afraid of you. Fear and respect go hand in hand."

Lucius respected father. He couldn't respect mother, it just didn't work.

Abraxas died. He was overtaken by one of the main scourges of wizards – Dragon Pox. He clung to life for many years, but anticipating demise, he wished to return home. And even here, without the support of mediwizards, he held on for six months. Dr. Mond told Lucius that he had never met so tenacious for his age people. Sure thing, it's not so easy to kill a deadly viper.

The message of his father's death caused surprise. Lucius didn't cry, didn't shout and didn't even flinch; he just didn't feel anything. Terrified of his own indifference, Malfoy closed himself in the bedroom and sat there until the evening, until he heard voices in the living room – ingratiating one of Erica and imperious one of Walburga.

Then Lucius decided ─ no matter what kind of person Abraxas was, he is no more. His yoke, his pressing brutal will went into oblivion and no one can command Lucius anymore. Now he is the master of the manor, the head of the clan and the lord of his life.

"Are you listening to me, Lucius?" Walburga glared at Malfoy with her dark cruel eyes. Maybe it worked on Blacks, but Lucius knew she could never compare with Abraxas.

"Of course, Mrs. Black," he replied with a velvet voice, focusing his eyes on Walburga. Erica behind her barely nodded, approving the behavior of her son, and gave him a faint smile.

Lucius wasn't sure that mother fully realized her husband's death. She looked lost, as if waiting every moment for Abraxas to appear on top of the stairs, say something tart about the Ministry and lazy house-elves again, then go downstairs and sink into the chair, putting dry hands on carved armrest.