#Malfoid #HarryPotter #fanfiction Year 4 Chapter 13 --- Lyra’s voice cut across the silence, thinner than usual but clear. “F-Father, he is… he merely escorted me out to Hogsmeade! He was being a proper gentlewizard!” Lucius’s expression did not change. “Really? And what of the kiss?” Color flooded her face. For a moment her eyes went distant and soft. “Oh… it was perfect and—” She caught herself, bright red, and stumbled. “I-um-wh-what kiss? Whatever is a kiss? A pure-blood maiden such as myself has no idea what that is!” Harry reflected that this would be far funnier if it were happening to someone else. A dark, dangerous look settled over Lucius’s face as he turned his glare fully on Harry. “Indeed. Mister Potter, once again… what are your intentions with my daughter?” Snape’s glare matched it for venom. Dobby edged behind Harry’s chair. Even with the knowledge that he had once sent Lucius flying, the look on the elder Malfoy’s face was that intimidating. Dumbledore rose, smile gentle, as Ron’s knuckles went white on the arms of his chair. “I’m sure Harry knows exactly what his intentions are. Don’t you, Harry?” There was a small, nasty part of him that wanted to admit to the prank. That wanted to see Lyra’s eyes fill with tears, see the hurt, feel the hurt she had caused him so often when they were younger. A small, dark part that wanted to make her suffer in front of her father. That wanted to mock her for thinking he could ever care for her, to see her break. That was what a prank was for, right? To make someone deserving suffer some humiliation? A little pain? And it would free him from this deception that was already getting way out of hand… He looked up into her eyes. They were hopeful and warm. The affection she held for him was there, open and unguarded. Harry hadn’t seen affection for him in many eyes, that was for sure. Awe, amazement, but not… care. Sirius’s words came to him: When it comes to her father? Be bold and audacious. He took a deep breath. He stood. He walked over to Lyra and took her hand in his. Then he turned to face Lucius and Snape. “My intentions are… well…” What did they say in Aunt Petunia’s old BBC romantic dramas that had bored him to tears? “To court her.” Lyra turned bright red and made the most adorable squeaking sound Harry had ever heard in his life. She covered her mouth with her free hand, staring at him as if the rest of the office had ceased to exist. He had to admit, he did like that look on her. Lucius practically growled. His wand hand twitched. Snape’s face pinched further. “To what end, Potter?” Lucius’s voice was low. “You should know full well this ends in only one of two ways: either you marry my daughter, or you break it off and you die to satisfy her honor. So which is it?” He loomed. Magical energy crackled faintly around him; his eyes nearly glowed. Harry found what remained of his courage. “Um… w-well—” “To… to marry me?!” Lyra’s voice cracked. “No!” She gasped. Hurt flashed across her face. She tried to pull her hand free. Lucius’s fingers closed on his wand. “I—I mean not now!” Harry said quickly. “Not right now! We need to finish school b-before we can think about that! But I—I just mean, you know… th-the process starts?” Lyra stilled. The adoring look returned, cautious but present. “Oh… oh, I—I see. I understand, Harry. It would be… it would be too soon now—” Her father’s stare landed. Color rose in her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “And Potter is no good as a husband right now! He’s a mess, his grades are only adequate, he—he has to work on his flying skills! All—all very important things to improve upon, Father!” The haughtiness was back in her voice. The warmth in her eyes remained. Harry felt a small, complicated hope, and a larger, more familiar torment. One step at a time. Lucius’s mouth thinned. “Really? Is that truly the case, Potter? You’re set on my daughter as your wife? Is this truly what you want?” Harry turned to face him. Lyra’s hand was still in his. He swallowed and met the cold grey eyes. “Yes.” “Potter,” Snape said, “you barely understand how to live as a wizard. How do you think you’ll be as a husband to a pure-blood lady?” “Greasy Snapey is single!” Dobby announced from behind the chair. Snape’s glare swung toward the elf. Dobby vanished behind Ron. Ron, unfortunately, did not share Dobby’s survival instincts. “And what’s wrong with Harry? He’d be a—a great husband! I mean, he killed a thousand-year-old basilisk to save my little sister! And he barely knows she exists! Imagine what he’d kill for Lyra! He actually really likes her!” Dumbledore examined a sock with careful interest, the corners of his mouth hidden. “Well put, Ron. I do believe you don’t have to worry about your daughter’s safety, Lucius.” “That’s just one threat to her.” Lucius’s snarl had lost some of its edge. Ron shook his head. “If you’re worried about that, Harry can throw off the Imperius! The only one in our class to do it!” “Y-yes, Father, that’s true! He did throw it off!” “I mean, not even you could do that, Mister Malfoy?” Ron’s smirk was tiny and suicidal. “I mean, that is what you claimed to the Ministry of Magic after the First War, right? That You-Know-Who Imperio’d you? Well, it’ll never happen to Harry! He’ll never be mind-controlled by You-Know-Who or anyone else!” Lucius went very still. His eyes narrowed to slits. He regarded Ron for a long moment, then managed a slow nod. “Yes… quite…” Ron was not foolish enough to push further. Or brave enough. He was, however, still talking. “And he defeated You-Know-Who as a baby anyway, and in first year, again in second, drove off a hundred Dementors in third—” “Ron…!” Harry said, warning. “And he’s the Boy-Who-Lived, rich, handsome, athletic—what, that’s not good enough for you, Mister Malfoy? Is there another boy better for your daughter?” “I do believe Potter’s head is swollen enough, Weasley.” Snape’s voice was dry. “No need to inflate it further.” Lucius’s scowl softened a fraction as he looked at Lyra. She was watching Harry with open adoration; the expression vanished into cool propriety the instant her father’s eyes found her. “And… you would consent to being courted by Potter, Lyra?” “…I—I would, Father.” “And if I told you the match was bad and I would disown you if you continued?” Her eyes widened. “You—you wouldn’t—you can’t—!” “I am your father, Lyra! I determine what is best for you and—” “You wouldn’t—!” “If I had to, I would!” Tears stood in her eyes. “I—I’d hate you forever!” The office went quiet. Lucius looked, for the first time, pained. “Lyra—” “Let’s all calm down, shall we?” Dumbledore stepped between them, smile gentle and immovable. “It is far too soon to think about marriage in any courting process, Lucius. And I can vouch for Harry’s character: he would never take advantage of your daughter.” Harry nodded vigorously. Lyra’s hold on his arm tightened. “Let these young people explore their feelings. Indeed, Harry is a good match all around—for your daughter, and for you. Can you think of a better way to improve your standing in the Wizengamot than Harry Potter as a potential son-in-law? Especially with that unfortunate business with the Chamber.” Lucius was still tense, but calmer. “That is true, Headmaster… however, as a father… I am only looking out for my daughter’s welfare.” “And she understands that. But do see things from an objective viewpoint: a date and a kiss do not endanger your daughter or your family. And once again, I can vouch for Harry’s character. You have nothing to worry about… though no doubt you will, being a doting father.” “…Yes, Headmaster.” Lucius turned to Lyra and Harry. “If this is your decision, Lyra… I will respect it.” “Thank you, Father,” she said, quiet and grateful. Lucius leaned in. The glare he directed at Harry was pure deadly promise. Harry held his ground, face set. “But rest assured, Potter… if you mistreat my daughter… what I have planned for you would pale in comparison to what the Dark Lord would do if he returned. Is that clear?” Harry managed not to stutter. “Clear.” “Good.” Lucius turned to Lyra. “If he so much as makes you cry—” “F-Father… he won’t.” The haughtiness returned. “Besides… don’t you think I can handle myself? Not that he ever would, but I would make him rue the day he was born if he tried anything!” She caught Harry’s stare and added quickly, “Not that I think you would, Harry!” Her father’s look returned. She went cold and arrogant again. “But if he does, oh… I will make him suffer.” Lucius looked, for a moment, proud. Snape looked vaguely ill. Ron and Dobby both regarded Harry with expressions of pity and disbelief. Lucius nodded slowly. “Very well… if you’ll excuse me, Headmaster… I must speak with Ludo Bagman about arrangements for the tournament. We can talk about other arrangements at a later time.” “Of course, Lucius. Severus, would you please accompany Lucius and aid him in these matters?” “Of course, Headmaster.” Snape stared at Harry and Lyra for an uncomfortably long moment, then shook his head and sneered. “This way, Lucius.” They left. The door closed. Harry exhaled. Lyra’s hand stayed tight on his arm. “I…” Her voice was low. “Thank you, Harry.” “Haaa… you’re welcome…” He had thought third year was a roller coaster. This felt like all of it compressed into a few minutes. “Oh… we’ve missed Divination!” Ron brightened. “But it’s lunchtime!” “I’ll write you all a note.” Dumbledore’s smile returned. “Yes, let’s have lunch. I daresay a break and a meal would be excellent right now. Don’t you agree, Harry?” “Y-yeah… completely.” “We’ll sit together,” Lyra said. “But—” “We’ll sit together.” “…Yes, Lyra.” “DOBBY SO AMAZED!” Dobby launched himself at Harry’s leg. “HARRY POTTER SIR STOOD UP TO MEAN EX-MASTER! DOBBY HAPPY! HARRY’S LYRA IS GOOD GIRL!” “Ack!” “Dobby! Dobby, down! Dobby, heel!” Lyra shouted. Dumbledore regarded the scene with twinkling eyes. “Enthusiastic little fellow, isn’t he?” patreon.com/AndrewJTalon/pos… xitter.cf/DodgerWing/status/2113…

Order of the Phoenix In Malfoy Manor, Voldemort is meeting with Narcissa and Lucius... Voldemort: “This is completely unacceptable! This Umbridge woman got Potter permanently banned from Quidditch? Potter actually struck your daughter?” Lucius: “I cannot believe he laid hands on her!” Narcissa: “It was more of a general scuffle, Lucius, we both saw it. He shoved her as he was beating up Nott. And sadly Malfoid and Nott provoked it. She was extremely jealous Potter was talking with Chang again so she hit a nerve. Just see her letter: She feels positively awful about the whole thing!” Voldemort: “Yes, I could see the tear marks. Potter is under incredible stress thanks to that Umbridge woman. Well! Perhaps we can salvage this. Have her approach him to apologize. Potter’s not the kind of boy who would intentionally harm a woman without actual cause. Especially not the one he cares for.” Lucius: *grumbles* “He still laid hands on her-” Voldemort: “And clearly, it was in the heat of the moment. Not something he would ever do normally, Lucius. Besides, as I recall your own father could be rough with your mother.” Lucius: “... Once. He admitted it was a mistake. He gave up the drink after and swore a magical oath to never do it again. He earned her trust back. And he made clear to me a gentlewizard never harms a lady.” Voldemort: “Well, there you go! Potter is of your social class but was not brought up properly. Raised by Muggles.” Narcissa: “That would explain it.” Voldemort: “Yes. Have Malfoid take this as an opportunity to reconnect with Potter. To humble herself. To be his support in dark times and make up for things. He will feel so guilty it will make him apologize and become vulnerable.” His eyes shine “In this trying circumstance, they will grow closer together under shared difficulty-” Wormtail: “Which will allow us to entrap him, right Master?” Voldemort: “DAMNIT WORMTAIL DON’T STEP ON MY LINES! CRUCIO!” Wormtail: “ARGH!” xitter.cf/DodgerWing/status/2113…