Bait and Bleed - An AU War RPG

*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.*

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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!

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*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!

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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.*

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*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.

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*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.

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*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.

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*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.

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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.*

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

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*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.*

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*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.

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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.*

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

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*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 -

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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.

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*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.

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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?

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*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.

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