Get back, motherfucker, you don't know me like that

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Holding an infant is vaguely at odds with most of the images Lucius like to paint of himself. It's at odds with his image as a leader of Society; it's most definitely at odds with his image as a loyal Death Eater. But there are times when image matters - most of the time, image matters - and times when it doesn't. This is one of the latter. That's why, on a family outing to Diagon Alley, he's holding Draco cradled to his chest as securely and gently and unabashedly lovingly as one might expect of any father. At least one who wasn't a Death Eater.

The outing is mostly for Draco's benefit. Lucius has been reading baby books since June (a fact which he does guard jealously from his colleagues of all stripes), and has definitive ideas about mental stimulation and socialization. And, in his view, starting the boy early on who not to socialize with is as important as teaching him who's acceptable, and anyway, the manor is far too quiet. It wouldn't do to have Draco grow up too used to that kind of quiet, and wind up nervous or twitchy or the like.

So, Diagon Alley. It's just now warm enough again for this kind of day out, and Draco seems to be enjoying drooling on Lucius's robes. (This bothered him for about a week, after Draco was born. He's gotten very, very used to it.) So far, so good. He turns to Narcissa, smiling, and so fails to see who's coming out of Florian Fortescue's behind him.*

So far so good, I'd say?

Comments

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*The perambulator is following them like a wheeled puppy, eager to be of service but not willing to get in the way, and Narcissa ignores it in favour of smiling fondly at the sight of Draco happily gumming on Lucius' shoulder as they stroll through the alley. Her son is bright-eyed and alert, one tuft of hair at the back curling up in a delightfully charming manner, and really, it's a lovely day.

But then she catches a glimpse of red hair, the sort of red that screams ginger and poor, not elegantly titian-haired, and her smile fixes into something suitable as opposed to something genuine.*

Yes, darling. So far. Do you know, I think I'd like to stop at that café across the Alley, could we..?

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*What Lucius doesn't see is hard to miss, if he'd been facing the right direction, and where Narcissa sees one splash of red hair, a lot more soon follow. The Malfoys are not the only family out enjoying the weather.

Herding children is not easy. Herding six children, all boys, is really not easy. Well, five, really - Arthur has Ron perched on his shoulders, so he's out of the way, which is lucky, really, because while Bill and Percy are behaving, Charlie and the twins are not. Charlie's antagonizing them - or egging them on, Arthur's really not sure which - and they're running literal circles around Molly and getting ice cream everywhere, all while blocking the doorway to the shop. Meanwhile Bill is looking increasingly like he wants to slip off to look at brooms (they cannot afford a new broom, which Arthur doesn't want to have to tell him again), and Percy is watching the whole thing solemnly.

It is, in a word, chaos. Arthur's still calm despite this - it's what happens every time they all go out, he's well used to it. Ignoring the haphazard beat Ron is drumming on his head (right by the thinning patch of hair Arthur has named Fred-And-George), he tries to lead them at least out of the doorway.*

Boys, come on, people are trying to get into the shop.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Narcissa's a wise woman, really, but her best efforts go awry at the last moment. Never in the habit of denying his wife anything, Lucius turns and smiles at her, shifting Draco in his arms.*

Of course, anything you -

*And he sees them. How could he not - it's as though a toddler went mad with orange paint. The café, the day out, even Draco and Narcissa are immediately forgotten, and a rather worrisome smile curls his mouth nastily. His day just got about five times better.*

Well. Look at that.

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

Come on, boys, this is just--

*Molly gives up on an orderly progression out the door and seizes George, throwing him in her hip. His yelling instantly shifts to the I'm-too-old-for-this-Mum variety but it breaks up the fight enough for them to clear the door of the shop. She's frazzled enough to fail to notice the Malfoys until they're nearly on top of them, and when she does a peculiar expression comes over her face: a bit strangled, as she becomes very cognizant of the state her hair is in and the ice cream on everyone's face and the screaming twins and their hand-me down robes...and then set, stubbornly, as she becomes even more cognizant of the handsomeness of her husband and the clever things he's always bringing home and that Percy read at three--that Bill is already helping her around the house like someone twice his age, how much he's starting to look like her brothers...*

Arthur, let's go.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*Molly's tone is a tip-off; even without seeing what she's looking at, it's clear something's just gone wrong. He glances over at her from keeping an eye on Freddy, who's still chasing Charlie, and then everything else falls by the wayside.

Malfoy. Nothing else on God's green earth can make Arthur - cheerful, good-natured Arthur - so angry so fast. His face sets into hard lines as he looks at Lucius, all but blind suddenly to the shouting children, and even to Ron drumming on his head.

He should listen to Molly. He should walk away, but he can't help himself when Lucius is standing there smirking like he owns the whole bloody street. The words that come out of his mouth are sharply at odds with how he says them.*

Lucius. Nice day, isn't it.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

It was.

*Detaching Draco's little hands from his robes, Lucius hands him off to Narcissa, eyes never leaving Arthur. He looks him over critically, first Arthur himself and then Molly, and then, finally, the children. All in shabby clothes, all unkempt, running amok - he isn't surprised. His disgust is genuine, but mitigated by his glee at the look on Weasley's face - he's gone as red as his hair already. Lucius thinks it might be a new record.*

Good heavens, Weasley, how many is it now?

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*Arthur has, indeed, gone red in the face. Ron is still happily whacking the top of his father's head, oblivious, but Percy, Charlie and Bill all seem to have sensed that something's not right. The twins, not yet being three, have not. Bill edges closer to his brothers, protectively, looking uncertainly between his parents.

Arthur, on the other hand, hasn't taken his eyes off Lucius. His temper's slipping, he can feel it - one bloody word out of line about his children and he'll kill the smug bastard.*

Six. And they're our pride and joy.

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

*The stubborn set in Molly's face has only solidified, and she is glaring at Malfoy, her chin lifted--not even looking at his horrible wife or the blonde beachball she's holding. George, still on her hip, has fallen uncharacteristically still.*

Seventh on the way.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Lucius's eyebrows shoot up, and he gives Narcissa a would-you-believe-that look that's all show.*

Is it! I would never have guessed.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*The only reason - the only one - that Arthur doesn't go for Malfoy's face is the fact that the baby is still on his shoulders. The insult to Molly is too much, but even that isn't worth risking one of their children's safety. Even so, his voice is full of barely-controlled, clipped rage.*

Molly. Take Ron.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*Narcissa's mouth is forming a moue of distaste at the rabble now barring their way, and as she settles her son in her arms, she answers Lucius quietly.*

Imagine, their very own Quidditch team.

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

*Molly chances returning George to the ground, and fortunately, he's picked up on the tension and quit his running--Fred too, they're both watching, their eyes darting between the adults as Bill holds tight to each of their hands. Only now does Molly deign to look at Malfoy's wife and the puffball she's holding, as she takes Ron from her husband--her stony face a clear counterpoint to the baby, who is laughing openly and waving his hands in the air.*

Arthur, let's go.

Bill, shall we have a look at brooms, for later?

*But Bill's silent. He's watching, too.*

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*Apparently that sea of ginger has warped the Weasley woman's perspective - understandable, really, since she, too, is rather plump - but Draco is far from being a chubby baby. Now, the dirty, freckled thing the other woman taking from her husband...*

Lucius, darling - people will think we're associating with them.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Lucius ignores her. This is too good - is Weasley really preparing for a fight, handing the squirmy little brat off like that? He can't help pushing it that one extra step, smiling at Narcissa unpleasantly.*

Their own Quidditch team, indeed, darling. You see, this is what happens when people can't get it right the first time. Or the second. Or the sixth, evidently.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*It's a step too far. There's a snarling sound, and then in an instant Arthur's thrown himself at Malfoy without thinking through what he's doing, shoving him into a lamp post and hitting any part of him he can reach.*

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*Narcissa gasps, horrified at this outburst of exceedingly poor manners, and takes a hurried step backwards. Draco, sensing her distress, begins to fret a little.*

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

Arthur, no--

*Bill is exclaiming, "Get him, Dad!" and Charlie and the twins are staring open-mouthed--thank God for small favors--but Ron is squirming mightily, and she can't--can't pull Arthur back and manage all their children at once. It is beyond the laws of physics.

So she just stares at him, scandalized and angry.*

Arthur!

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*All delight wiped from his face the instant Weasley's fist lands at his eye, Lucius stumbles back against the lamp, too shocked at first to fight back. That, and he never actually learned to brawl - it's such a proletariat thing to, any gentleman knows wands are a far superior way to settle conflict - but then there's another fist bunched at the front of his robes and a hard blow to his mouth, and instinct kicks in.

What follows is something of a blur, a tangle of robs and fists and language best kept far from their respective children, until finally there's a bang from someone's wand - neither man is sure whose - and Lucius stumbles back, panting, with one eye rapidly swelling. He spits blood onto the cobblestones and points at Weasley, furious, hair all over the place.*

That's assault Weasley, I'll press charges!

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

Do it, then, you don't own the whole fucking Ministry!

*Arthur's in no better shape: his glasses are smashed on the ground and his nose is bleeding profusely, robes torn, face still bright red. It's costing him an effort to hold himself back and he can't see past how very much he'd like to blacken Malfoy's other eye.*

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

*Molly has six boys and two hands, so she's forced to make a very tough decision very fast: it's Percy's ears that she covers.*

ARTHUR.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*Her voice finally snaps through the single-mindedness of wanting to absolutely maul Lucius. With visible effort he steps back away from Malfoy, still out of breath, and swipes at his nose with the back of his hand.*

There's a street full of witnesses who saw you fight, too, Malfoy. Try it.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*His thin face twisted in anger, Lucius leans forward, intentionally threatening their space.*

Face it. When it's your word against mine, you are going to lose. Every time. You're not -

*But there's something loose in his mouth, suddenly; furious as he realizes what it is, Lucius spits a tooth out into his hand and looks back up at Weasley murderously.*

You just wait, Weasley.

*The head of his department will hear about this. The Minister will hear about this. Casting the tooth aside (that's what Skele-gro is for), Lucius twitches his robes back into place and turns on his heel.*

Narcissa.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*Arthur listens to the threat defiantly, not giving an inch - he's never backed down to intimidation and he isn't going to start now. His back stiff with stubborn pride and anger, he watches Malfoy turn away before looking behind him at his own family - Molly apoplectic, the boys shocked, mostly. Bill looking proud. That's enough to make it worth Molly's rage, though, right there. He looks at his sons seriously, lowering his voice just enough to avoid another brawl, but he's as deadly serious as he ever is. He points behind him at the Malfoys as he addresses Bill and Charlie - the others are too young to understand this, but with Bill starting school in another year, well. There are things Arthur needs him to know.*

You don't ever listen to people like that, boys, do you hear me? The size of your Gringott's vault has absolutely nothing to do with who you are, and neither does whether you're pure-blood or not. The Malfoys think they own everyone just because they throw money around, but they are no better than anyone else.

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

Arthur--that's not--brawling in the street, Arthur, what kind of a lesson is that?!

*She's just sputtering, now, in her rage, as Ron giggles and squirms and the older boys stare at their father in naked admiration. But her anger isn't going anywhere, so she takes it in her wand hand and mends his shattered glasses--which fly onto his face a little too hard; she then mutters Episkey at his broken and bleeding nose, which mends itself, a little too abruptly.*

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

Ow - no, Molly, I'm sorry, but they need to know that you don't take guff from wizards like Malfoy.

[sabretoothmolly.livejournal.com]

*Bitterly, she sighs. Between them, in the telepathy unique to those long and wisely married, it passes that Bill will be starting at Hogwarts soon--Charlie soon enough after--and that the attitude of the Malfoys and their ilk will follow them there.

She pockets her wand and reaches forward, swiping the blood off his face with her sleeve.*

I know, Arthur.

You were brilliant.

But boys--Charlie, Bill--we don't go fighting in public with our fists, that's..

*She's in full steam, by now, as she passes Ron back to her husband, and the lecture will be a long one.*

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*A twitch of her wrist Vanishes the tooth where it lies discarded - no sense in leaving physical evidence behind - and Narcissa's long legs allow her to easily keep pace with her husband as Draco stares over her shoulder at the squabbling redheads they leave behind. Perambulator faithfully rolling after them, she can already hear the matriarch's scolding tones rising above the rabble.*

That man is a menace. What on earth he thought that would accomplish I'm sure I don't know.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

He doesn't think, their sort doesn't think. Little better than animals, the way he's always mewling about after Muggles - disgusting. Crouch will hear about this first thing Monday morning. I will not be publicly humiliated like this.

*If his voice is kept low it's only to avoid a further scene - no mistake, Lucius is still absolutely livid.*

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

He merely proved his low breeding, you certainly came off the better party-- Lucius, please stop and let me fix your lip.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*He does, obediently, looking at Narcissa with his eye quickly blackening and blood still all over his mouth. He doesn't feel the better party. He'd have felt the better party if Weasley hadn't just walked away from it. He drops his voice to a furious murmur, casting a glance about them.*

The next time I get the chance behind a mask, I swear -

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

Hush. Not here.

*Draco is oddly quiet as Narcissa's wand soothes small wounds and erases the visible damage of Weasley's ham-handed fisticuffs. Anyone looking on would mistake Narcissa's expression and her quiet words for a worried wife cooing over the injuries or her husband, instead of the muttered warning it actually is.*

It looks worse for him if you play the role of the gentleman to the absolute hilt. You can hex him bloody another time, my love, but now is not the time to be plotting revenge.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Lucius just listens, still glaring at the street over her shoulder, but she's right. She usually is. It takes an effort but he at least tries to compose himself, twitching a tiny nod.*

Alright. I'm still going to Crouch.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

As you should. To be attacked on the street is appalling - Weasley cannot control his temper any more than he control his finances, you've every right to see him brought up on charges.

*Satisfied that her husband's visage is returned to its usual handsomeness, she lays a gentle hand to his cheek.*

Come. Carry your son, and let us finish our shopping, hmm?

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Gentleman. Right. He clenches his jaw but does as Narcissa asks, lifting Draco from her arms. He'll make sure, he thinks, looking into those wide grey eyes so like his own, that the boy knows exactly how to handle rabble like the Weasleys.*

Lead the way, darling.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*The smile she gives him is more for the benefit of anyone who happens to be watching - and she knows there are watchers - but the light in her eyes is all for him.

It's gone by the time she steps out onto the path again.*