Chapter Text
“Inaction saps the vigor of the mind, and for too long we have allowed ourselves to stagnate. Wallowing in our past feuds and reveling in our differences.”
Lucius Malfoy sat at his newly installed mahogany desk; quill resting on the parchment unfurled on its yet unspoiled surface, mind pulling in so many directions it was nearly dizzying. The desk was twice the size of his old oaken desk, more expanded drawer space and a wealth of ink and parchment ready to be used at a moment’s notice. Files were securely locked into a drawer keyed only to his and Cissa’s magical signatures.
A necessary security upgrade given that all signs pointed towards his impending accession to the role of Chief Warlock.
It had been one of the main reasons he had allowed Cissa to refurnish and redecorate his study. It was still a regal, stunning space; full of books, antiques, and other trinkets to showcase the wealth and mastery of the Malfoy name. But his clever wife had added softer fabrics, a well-stocked bar cart, and plenty of space so that visitors would not feel trapped or confined.
A truly well-crafted space to welcome visitors and provide a comfortable workspace for those there on business. If things went as expected, then Lucius would be entertaining far more visitors in his home and in his study.
“We as a society must move forward; as one, before the past swallows us whole.”
Words had never been hard for Lucius. In fact, they were one of the most dependable weapons in his arsenal. He could demean, attack, and draw in any listener and they would not even realize it was happening.
Well, unless he wanted them to, of course.
His father Abraxas had taught him this art well before Lucius had begun to learn from his formal lessons, and he had enjoyed it whenever his father had set him on a task using only his words to achieve his goals. Tutors would find themselves tongue tied, the better he’d gotten at the game, and by the time he started Hogwarts, Lucius knew exactly how tone, inflection, and word choice could form much more of a threat than a drawn wand.
Eloquent. Articulate. Well-Versed. Silver-Tongued. All words that others used to describe his wit, his candor, and his speaking abilities.
And yet here he was, sitting alone in his study, struggling to write an acceptable victory speech.
It was becoming quite a chink in his armor, quite the thorn in his paw. The concession speech he had decided to have, just in case rumors had deceived him, had been far too easy to write. The acceptance speech was now on the fifth day of revisions and Lucius was still hunched over the parchment, quill twitching and quick to add and remove elements of the one-page document.
“Traditions should not be feared. Progression should not be feared. Both can exist. Both can be achieved.”
If his father were still living, this line would have had the totalitarian man foaming at the mouth. And perhaps that was why Lucius was having such troubles with his scripted speech. It wasn’t just an acceptance speech, but a balm to calm the nervous, fretting creatures that made up Dumbledore’s support base. It offered compromise and change. It offered an outreach to start overcoming the rifts two wars had wrecked upon their society.
And that was certainly not what Abraxas had taught him. It was not the pride and conviction Abraxas had instilled in him. It was not the certainty of belief that had been driven into his soul. Blood, as his father often said, was the purest thing they had in their favor. If they tarnished that, then all was lost.
Yet, Lucius had crafted something different. Something more forgiving in his first few drafts. This was different from what he was taught. But it had to be different, unless it ended up doomed to the failure of his former lord and all those before him.
Lucius was aware of how quickly the opposition would paint him in the darkest of lights. How easily his forays into this middle ground could be twisted and turned into a false promise. It was more than likely that the Wizengamot members so fully under Dumbledore’s thrall would compare him to his former lord and insinuate that he was trying to reignite his master’s plans.
But his pride be damned, he was smarter than to be trapped in their boxes. Cunning enough to see their side of things whilst convincing them it was still the wrong approach. He would engineer careful compromises and broker mutually beneficial deals. If he was careful and vigilant, he could enact some real change.
But first he had to win.
“Stars above. I knew I’d find you in here.”
Lucius glanced up through his blonde hair to find Narcissa at his door, looking rather flustered and impatient.
Well, no, that was wrong. She was the vision of perfection she always was, her long hair softly styled and not an inch out of place. Her black dress was form-fitting, but flared out at the skirt area, looking like a traditional duchess or baroness on display. And her makeup was elegant, but not too eye-catching; a subtle way of keeping the attention on Lucius, while looking completely complementary to his own clothing.
“My apologies, dear.” Lucius turned his eyes back down to the parchment he’d been adding and subtracting from. “I merely wished to make a few last-minute corrections.”
“Yes and completely lost track of the time.” Narcissa was now striding in confidently, her long hair moving about her like a battle cloak, her posture her armor as she came to stand at his shoulder. “It is now quarter till, and I will not have us being late to your own victory.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” Lucius was frowning as Cissa’s wand flicked to his parchment, rolling it up and sealing it deftly from view. Quarter till eleven… he really had lost track of the morning in his quest for perfection.
“Do my ears deceive me? Is Lucius Abraxas Malfoy questioning himself?” Cissa gave him an almost playful quirk of her brow, crossing her arms in front of her midsection; perfectly manicured fingers resting just by her elbows. “That is not the man I married, is it? Stand up.”
Lucius obeyed, eyeing her with his own quirked brow. He was already dressed, in a pitch-black robe, immaculately tailored and adorned with small dragons flanking each lapel. A crisp white shirt was underneath, the ruffled portion that came up to his neck calling back to the olden days when such finery was worn in the chambers.
His fingers were ringed with antiques that would pair well with his cane, polished and ready against the side of his desk.
As he straightened, looking down on his petite wife, he saw her ice blue eyes dancing with a touch of delight. She reached up and turned him around by the shoulders, so that he was now facing away from her. She was quickly gathering his long locks at the nape of his neck, carefully tucking his ears beneath and ensuring both sides were even and slick in appearance.
He felt her nimbly affixing a bow at the spot, another call-back to their old ways. A thin black ribbon, made of silk, tied into a neat bow just at the nape. The tails framed the lower portion of his hair and kept his hair away from his face and off his shoulders.
“I wish Draco would allow his hair to grow a smidge.” Narcissa was fretting behind him, dainty hands brushing his shoulders and turning him back around to look him up and down for any imperfections.
“He’s time yet, love.” Lucius chuckled, tipping up his wife’s chin and giving her a thankful smile. “Thank you for always ensuring I am in one piece.”
He leaned down softly, kissing the muted red lips. Narcissa leaned into him just as softly, her hands resting on his chest as they took the moment to reaffirm that this was a joint effort, despite Narcissa having done little more than campaigning to the other wives of the court. Still, her contribution was immeasurable, her words just as perfect and timed as his own.
Cissa was a vision he had found himself reacquainting himself with while Draco had been in school. It had been many years since they had the manor to themselves, and Lucius was rather pleased to find that the years had not dulled any of their affections. With time once devoted to the boys, their needs, and their tutoring; they both found ways to enjoy their new freedoms. And it had been divine.
Even with Draco now at home, Lucius knew the two of them had entered a new stage of their relationship. An older, wiser couple, now devoted to securing their son’s future, but also enjoying each other’s company. A loving partnership as he moved to become Chief Warlock and she, his right hand. His beautiful, poised wife to be the envy of the wizarding world.
“Hmmm, you are doing well to distract me, Husband.” Cissa purred as she pushed away, tucking a strand of her blonde locks behind her ear. “But we have places to be. And we must meet up with Bella and Corvus along the way.”
“Draco?”
“Downstairs by the floo as we speak.” Cissa straightened and smiled prim and proper, curtseying to him and holding out her arm to allow him to take the lead. “Let us go change our fates, my husband.”
Lucius bowed to her in turn, crooking his arm and offering it to her. He warmed as she wrapped her arm around his own and settled into his side. They exited together, the door widening appropriately to let them pass and soon he was smiling proudly at his son, looking well-groomed and poised to fit within the chambers of the Wizengamot himself.
“Father. Mother.” Draco bowed his head to both as they entered. “Are we headed to Grimmauld or direct to the Ministry?”
“The Ministry, Draco.” Lucius advised as he approached the floo powder and took out a pinch. “Allow me to go first. One mustn’t be too careful.”
“You actually think someone would be fool enough to do something?” Cissa was snorting slightly at the ridiculous thought.
“No, not truly. But one can never know with a cornered animal.” Lucius sneered just so, as he stepped inside the fireplace and called out for the Ministry Entrance. He stepped out gracefully, tapping his cane on the floor as he stepped to the side, glancing at the absolute congestion in the area.
Regular witches and wizards were flitting about, the news of a vote of this nature had spread like wildfire. And why not? It had been the late ‘70s when the last Chief Warlock had been voted in. Dumbledore had hung to the position like a leech and of course everyone was abuzz with the prospect of someone new.
Narcissa and Draco were right behind him. He helped Draco straighten his collar, brush off some of the soot, and put a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder. Draco still hadn’t hit a growth spurt, and it would be far too easy to lose him in this chaos.
The traffic was not helped in the slightest by the Wizengamot’s decision to open the vote up to select spectators. Each seat holder could invite two guests. Of course, the idea was that the Lords and Ladies would bring their heirs, so long as they were of an appropriate age, and a great deal of them would want their spouses present to witness the changing of the guard.
“Lucius! Lucuis!!”
He and the family stopped as an eager voice lifted above the din of the surrounding chaos. The approaching form of Cornelius Fudge was not surprising. Though, he did appear to be slightly underdressed for the occasion. He was in his typical bowler hat and a muggle-style three-piece suit. Sleek, but not in line with the traditional robes the rest of the parliament would be wearing.
“Merlin, it is a mad house in here today, isn’t it!”
“Indeed, Minister.” Cissa was curtseying the man now, tone pleasant. “But who can blame them all for wishing to witness history? It is not often a new Chief Warlock is chosen.”
“Quite!” Cornelius was oblivious to her subtle frown, the one blaming him for that fact. While Dumbledore was the one that had gotten Fudge elected to Minister of Magic, Fudge had returned the favor by constantly backing up Dumbledore’s position in the governing body.
Luckily, Lucius knew just how easy it was to bribe and flatter the older, rotund man. Cornelius was so fickle in his view that a vague threat that his popularity was in question would have the man stumbling over himself to rectify the issue. Whether or not the issue was something Lucius made up, or had manufactured for this purpose, well the man seemed to be little aware of how Dumbledore used the same tactic to keep him in line.
“Given the number of visitors we’re expecting, the Wizengamot has been moved to one of our expanded conference spaces on the 7th floor, instead of the 10th.” Cornelius was trying to guide them towards the lifts, hoping to be seen and photographed with the clear favorite to win.
Or as the papers had been calling Lucius as of late.
“Ah, if I am not mistaken the Magical Games and Sports Departmental Level.” Lucius knew every level of this building and understood now why it had been relocated. The Games Department was known to throw some large galas during world cups and regional championships.
“Quite right! You know this building better than I do, I think.” Cornelius was laughing along, Lucius grinning tightly as he guided the way up to a point.
“Thank you for informing me, Cornelius. My family and I will see you shortly. We are to meet with my sister-in-law and her son before heading up.” Lucius stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing dual sets of curls near the fountain area. “Do try to keep Albus on a short leash, hmmm?”
“Oh, I know you two have your problems. But Albus understands the process.” Cornelius was blushing now, his eyes darting about to see if the old codger was a foot. “I will see you inside then.”
“Right. Just like he understands the process of Hogwarts Charter and Safety Protocols.” Cissa was snarling under her breath once Fudge was out of earshot. “I hate that we will be seeing more of the Minister but needs dictate it I suppose.”
“And I am ever so grateful for my resilient, accommodating wife.” Lucius picked up her hand and pecked a kiss to the top. “Come, let us gather your sister. United front is best.”
Much to his surprise, Bella was rather toned down in her appearance. Given that this was a special occasion, the restrictions on robes had been waived. No plum purple atrocities to take away from the dignity and majesty of their task today.
Yet, even with freedom such as she’d been given, Bella was dressed in a simple pleated skirt in black, red thread dripping through the seams like falling embers. Her top was mostly black, with a splash of red on the bodice, and her shoulders covered in a light lace. Corvus, as always, was matching in smart black trousers, dark red silk top and a formal robe draped over his shoulders with the Black Crest embroidered in fine detail on the breast.
“There you are.” Bella was frowning just a touch. The crowds were probably making her a touch too nervous. “About to be late to your own coronation, Lucy?”
“My, we are all very sure of ourselves today.” Lucius snorted and tipped his head to Corvus.
“Lord Malfoy.” Corvus bowed perfectly, arm tucked, and head bowed. Lucius smirked, happily returned the gesture.
“Lord Black. Thank you for attending. Your support means a great deal to me.” Lucius spoke with authority and at a bit more volume. Of course, it carried in the large halls and those nearby turned to watch the exchange.
“It is my pleasure. Your support has been a constant for me.” Corvus grinned back, happily playing the game as they had discussed beforehand. “It is only fair I return the favor.”
“Come, let us see to the spectacle.” Lucius nodded to the lifts. “I was informed we are headed to the 7th floor, not the 10th.”
The lift was a bit crowded with them all squished in, but it was doable. The boys eagerly took the private moment to start planning some of their summer escapades. The Greengrasses had invited them to tea, Blaise Zabini had offered a weekend stay-over in Italy. Theodore Nott would soon be smuggled to one of their homes, if either boy had anything to do with it.
“Ah, to be young again.”
Except, he wasn’t nearly that old yet. A few years shy of forty now. Bella had turned forty-one and Cissa was thirty-seven. Honestly, they weren’t old compared to the fact that Dumbledore was soon to be one-hundred-and-eleven. And there were more centenarians out there, usually tied to their homes or squirrelled away like hermits.
As the door opened on the lift, they met with one of the more colorful floors of the Ministry Building. Quidditch paraphernalia and marketing items were in abundance and while he saw his son’s clear interest in the area, Draco did not miss one step as Lucius led them off the lift and towards the group of pages and secretaries waiting about.
A young woman was rather eager to guide them to the conference room Cornelius had mentioned. She blushed and lowered her gaze but politely led them about the oddly set up desk scheme of the Games Department. Upon arriving, he saw several others milling about the entrance, likely lesser houses and the ministry appointees waiting their turn to enter.
This was a very formal ritual they were performing today, one not typically called, so as such the rules of entrance were being followed. Lords and Ladies first, lesser houses next, department heads after. Any secretarial staff would follow their assigned member to their seats.
Clearly, Bella had no qualms about waltzing her way right in. As was her right, given she represented one of their oldest houses. He entered behind her, as was proper and took a moment to assess the temporary space. Honestly, he was going to have to start a petition to expand their own courtrooms whether he won or not.
The seating was spaced far more generously than in the rooms up on the 10th floor. Each seat had one arm rest and a plank standing upright to hold each member’s House Crest. The seats given to the department heads had their department logos engraved instead. The seats were not the narrow wooden chairs. Instead, they each had a little padding at the back and more comfortable seats. Cornelius had been rather sneaky in his plans, Lucius gave him that, and the room was given an air of importance with the additions.
A photo op waiting to happen, no doubt.
While no reporters were allowed in during the voting, Lucius knew they were waiting like vulture somewhere nearby and would spring the moment they received the signal.
“Isn’t this a nice little stage they’ve set up.” Bella was cackling a bit as she led Corvus towards the center area where the Black seat was done to perfection. The banner was a touch larger than the others, and it seemed to be made of a fine weave of linen whereas the rest seemed to be done in felt. “Come, my raven, let’s see them deny you your seat.”
Lucius shook his head as Bella set out to put Corvus in the spotlight. He was Lord-Apparent so technically speaking, he was allowed to sit in the main seat. Of course, those light-leaning twits would say he was too young, even though it would be Bella herself doing the actual voting.
Corvus was merely there for show.
Draco too was also there for that purpose, but also to start learning. Eventually he would be taking over the family seat and, Lucius hoped anyway, following in his footsteps into the political arena.
He graciously allowed his wife to sit, holding the chair for her as Draco took up the seat on the other side, wide eyes watching all the participants flowing into the room. But he was quick to cover up his awe, and a more neutral gaze started to smooth the boy’s features. Lucius nodded to him in appraisal and sat himself in the main seat with a relaxed air of calm and peace.
Tiberius was already there, Theodore just a touch behind his left shoulder. Preston, his heir Preston Jr. and his wife Serafina were all happily set down a row and the man nodded his head in Lucius’ direction. Augusta Longbottom was positively scowling from her seat across the open floor in the center of them all, a timid looking boy right next to her.
“That must be Alice and Frank’s boy.” Cissa was commenting softly, eyes following his own around the room.
“He a coward.” Draco was frowning and Lucius lightly tapped the boy’s leg with his cane, giving him a scowl. “Sorry.”
“Such comments can wait until we are safe at home, Draco.” Lucius reminded the boy. “Tact, Draco. You needn’t like or agree with them, but one must show some tact.”
“Yes Father.”
He patted the boy’s shoulder as a sign of forgiveness. After all, Draco had turned twelve whilst he was at Hogwarts and Corvus’ birthday was mere days away. They were learning. They would have missteps. But immediate correction was the best way to help them learn from such mistakes.
Arthur Weasley was finally bumbling his way in, both a seat holder and department head, so his seating area had two monikers. He was explaining a few things to a man a good head and a half taller than himself. The newcomer’s hair was long, but in a more rugged way, blazing red just like every other Weasley Lucius had met.
While the pair were dressed in formal wear, it was apparent that Arthur’s “heir” was not meant for such pursuits. His ears were studded with earrings, much like a goblin’s would be and around his neck was a leather strap with a very large dragon fang on the end. His complexion was darkened by hours in sunlight and his posture held far more confidence and swagger than Arthur had ever displayed.
“William Weasley.” Preston was whispering to Lucius, seeing his intrigue. “We’ve never met him, seeing as Weasley’s only a lord in name by now. But word his son is a curse-breaker for Gringotts. Spends most his time in Egypt or some other far-off locale.”
“Interesting. Rumor has it the second-born too has a job outside of Britain.” Lucius saw Bella nodding quietly to that information. She’d told him about Nymphadora’s friend; Charlie Weasley, a dragon tamer, that had helped her with the dragon that idiot gamekeeper had brought onto the castle’s property. “One wonders why they are so eager to leave the isles.”
“Percy would be better suited to politics.” Corvus was stating. Mostly to himself, but Lucius still heard it and quirked his brow at Preston, who seemed rather intrigued as well. Given the Weasley family had seven children, there was no telling which of the children that was, but it seemed Corvus had some information to impart as well.
The lesser houses were flowing in along with department heads now. Amelia Bones was settling at the middle podium alongside Corneilus and his undersecretary. Strangely she hadn’t brought her niece, but then again she was acting more as a departmental figure, not a member of a lesser house.
Along with this grouping was Albus. Lucius could not help but grin ferociously as the once-proud, intimidating wizard walked by. But the man kept his head high as he sat in his family’s seat, looking so out of place amongst the lower rung of seating, yet head still tilted upwards in prideful determination.
“Oh, he is mad.” Bella was cackling softly, down in the middle row, front and center. “I cannot wait to see him have a stroke when you take his spot, Lucy.”
“Must I remind you of tact as well, Bella?” Lucius grimaced as she leaned backwards to eye him with a gleam in her eye. Corvus was trying not to laugh at his mother’s antics at first. But as Albus looked their way, a darker look crossed the boy’s face. One more wary, but more steadfast in the face of an enemy.
Finally, as the hall filled with members, their heirs, and their spouses, muttering began to get passed about. Kingsley was sitting near Augusta, the only two options the light-leaning wixen had in their arsenal. Augusta had experience, but she was too prickly and aggressive in her dealings. Not to mention her staunch support of Albus Dumbledore. Practically a seat holder that would bend and twist for the former warlock’s whims.
Kingsley was younger than himself and Preston, but the closest thing Dumbledore’s followers had to a ‘neutral’ party. One that could pretend to be open to discussions and willing to work with others. But one that would be willing to listen to the well-meaning advice of his elders.
Preston had little to no interest, but each side was encouraged to have two options for fairness’ sake. Lucius, with his law background, political career, and proven record on the Board of Governors did have an edge. But Lucius was trying to be realistic. Too many remembered his trial after the last war, and he still had a faded mark on his arm.
“Order! Order!” Cornelius’ undersecretary had confirmed all were present and was ready to start the proceedings. “Good day to you all. Thank you for agreeing to the change in venue and your prompt arrival this day.”
“Welcome! Welcome!” Cornelius was standing now and overshadowing the pudgy woman dressed in all pink. “As we all know why we are here today, and our candidates gave their final campaign speeches just a few short days ago, I merely wish to remind you of how the vote will be held.”
Cornelius waved his wand at the center of the floor and a stand with a simple bronze box was erected. All of them could see the runes etched along the bottom edge and it was clearly Goblin-made.
“Each seat will receive one single slip of parchment with anti-tampering charms to prevent forgeries and claims of falsehood. The Goblins have provided us with a ballot box with each of our four candidates’ names enchanted into it. No other names will be accepted and anyone attempting such will find their vote incinerated. You will not get another.”
Murmurs arose as everyone agreed to the terms of this proceeding and grumbled about the lengths being taken. Albus had merely been appointed the position in a sweeping move by the last panicked gasps of the Ministry during the previous war. It should have been taken to a proper vote after things had gone as they had, but in the interest of mending the rifts, Dumbledore had stayed in his position.
“I will allow a period of five minutes for our lords and ladies to discuss, if they so choose, then we will open the floor for voting. We will start with the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and move through our hierarchy.”
“Oh, how delightful!” Bella sing-songed with pleasure, giving Corvus a small nudge with her arm while she basked in the glow of attention. “We get to go first, hatchling.”
“Mum.” Corvus once more was trying to fight a grin, as was Draco, and there was some polite laughter heard throughout the room.
Discussions, the few that happened, were quick. Lucius met eyes with Tiberius, who only nodded curtly and returned to staring steadfast towards the ballot box. Finally, the pink woman was knocking the gavel again, garnering their attentions as the enchanted parchment slips were appearing in front of them all.
Obviously, Lucius wrote his own name, folded it neatly and securely and kept it in his palm. He could see Draco watching him from the corner of his eye and gave a small, quick wink towards his son.
Within minutes, Bella was standing with that air of gravity about her, all eyes watching her as her heeled boots clicked on the wooden flooring. She swayed slightly as she walked towards the box, grinning ear to ear, her confidence positively radiating.
She held out her slip of paper with two fingers, not even bothering to hide the name on it, and slipped it into the slot at the top with a flourish of her wrist. She then turned on her heel, danced back to her seat, and leaned over to hug Corvus to her side.
That started the line of seat holders and Lucius found his way to the box, palming his own name into the ballot, letting his hand rest for a mere second atop. If this came to fruition, he was that much closer to achieving his goals. His climb had stagnated for so long now, but today that could change. It was merely coincidence that his goals too had changed, allowing for this chance to finally emerge.
Once the department heads had cast their ballots, a goblin had come from some side area, dark eyes focused only on the box. He muttered Gobbledegook at the contraption, and the runes began to activate around the bottom. Everyone watched in silence. No one dared shift their weight nor avert their gaze; all interested in how the box truly worked.
Goblins were so stingy with their crafts.
Finally, once it was done, the goblin nodded to Cornelius who came from his own seat to nod to the creature and put his hands on the box.
“Thank you for your participation today in this historic event.” Cornelius smiled that smile he gave for papers and reporters. “I look forward to working with whomever claims our most esteemed position of Chief Warlock. The results will come out from lowest to highest.”
A slip raised up like a ticker tape and Cornelius plucked it away, reading it and chuckling slightly.
“Lord Preston Parkinson, our most congenial contender, three votes.”
“Why, thank you!” Preston exclaimed as a rumble of laughter made its way through the room.
“Thank you for your participation.” Cornelius snickered as the next slip came up. “Ah, to our most honored Lady Augusta Longbottom, ten votes.”
Lucius could not help but let a small grin curl his lips. The old battle axe had only garnered that many? How horrible for her ego. Seeing as she was scowling while she dipped her head in acceptance of the count, glaring at her grandson who withered under the gaze.
“So, it comes down to myself and Kingsley.” Lucius thought as he gazed at the younger man nearby. His chocolate-colored eyes met his own gray eyes, and they nodded at one another. “Given Dumbledore threw his long-time supporter little help, it is no wonder it came down to us.”
The next slip came up and everyone collectively held their breath. This would signal who had won, no matter what. This was the runner up and whoever was left was the winner.
Lucius felt Cissa’s hand slip into his own and he squeezed it as much as he could. He knew for certain that ten families were certain for his side. But with fifty members that meant swaying some of the more neutral leaning families and some department heads to ensure a complete win.
“Lord Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of our most astute and dedicated Aurors, 12 votes.” Cornelius was nodding his head to the man dressed more like Dumbledore than anyone else in the room with heavily patterned robes and a flat, circular hat a top his head. “I’m certain that Amelia will be glad not to be losing you to your political duties.”
“Thank you, Minister.” Kingsley was bowing his head and pressing a hand to his chest in what appeared to be a more familial bow than the British ones.
The last strip popped up and Lucius could feel his smile starting to spread. He was left at the top.
“That leaves our new Chief Warlock, Lord Lucius Malfoy.” Cornelius was grinning ear to ear; most likely envisioning a more profitable partnership than the one he had with Albus.
Lucius was more than happy to let him believe that as he stood, ensured his robe was straight and nodded around the room as applause greeted the news.
Of course, not all were happy with this outcome. Oh, he could feel the heat of Dumbledore’s gaze as he obstinately avoided meeting the man’s eyes. He saw Augusta barely holding her tongue in her head and saw several of the other families paling. He had a reputation, all of them did, but he would hopefully qualm some of those fears with his speech.
He started down the aisle as Cornelius waved him up, the applause starting to fade as he took the seat above all the others. He let things completely quiet before he looked about and began his acceptance of the role.
“Thank you, my fellow witches and wizards, for this opportunity. You humble me with your choice, and I am honored to be among the many great wixen who have held this position.”
“To my opponents, I look forward to working with you closely. Just as I am looking forward to working with all our members. I know many of you will have concerns, worries and doubts, but I wish to assure you that I am open to discussions regarding our work here in this hallowed body of government. But make no mistake, there will be change. Inaction saps the vigor of our mind and for too long we have allowed ourselves to stagnate. Wallowing in our past feuds and reveling in our differences.” Lucius could see the many faces looking at each other as he made his way through his prepared speech. “But there are few differences amongst us. We are all wixen, are we not?”
He stopped here, letting that last question ruminate in their minds. It was the one he himself had come back to on a few occasions, especially as Bella told them about Corvus’ study group at Hogwarts. While his gut reaction was to ask why Corvus was bothering with the muggle-borns, Bella reminded him that the Dark Lord had started with views much like Grindelwald.
Magical blood was magical blood. Yes, families could still practice their pure-blood mandates if they chose to, but the fact remained that their world was dwindling. They needed more wixen. Much like Walburga had done in choosing Corvus as her heir, Lucius had to shift his beliefs. He would have to consider that muggle-borns had a place in the grander scheme of things.
Again, he felt his father’s disapproval. But the man was dead, and Lucius oversaw the family and its direction now. This was the way forward.
“We were all blessed with Magic's gift. Do we all not strive to honor and nurture the gift we were bestowed? We have different views on how best to accomplish this task, but that does not mean we cannot find compromise that allows us to both serve our communities and keep with our pacts.”
“Our traditions should not be feared and squandered. But likewise, progress should not be stagnated for the purpose of keeping that which no longer benefits us. Both can be achieved without detriment. Remember our roots but continue to innovate.”
Lucius felt the conviction in his own words and saw the response from those that he knew were wary of him and his ideals. He saw their confusion at first, but then a slow curiosity as he continued.
“We as a society must move forward; as one, before the past swallows us whole. We as a people, must learn to look beyond that which divides us and look for what will bring us together.”
Finally, he could not abide letting Dumbledore off without mentioning his faults, no matter how many times he had tried to write the speech without the subtle nod to the previous administration.
“And while my predecessors have undoubtedly done a good job while in office, there is no doubt that many allowed themselves to be burdened with too many obligations. I wish you all to know where my obligations lie. First and foremost, is to my family. Second is to this very Wizengamot, and then to my other duties to my holdings.” Lucius felt a grin of satisfaction as a lot of heads started turning towards the elderly Headmaster in the front row. He watched as the man tried to feign indifference and fail spectacularly. “Age and stagnant ideals also kept some from truly embracing their role as the mediator of this fine group of witches and wizards. I will assure you that I will not fail this duty. I am all too happy to lead the way and assist with any disagreements. My ears are always open, my eyes are always willing to see, and my service is dedicated to this body and helping it find solutions.”
With all his bases now covered, at least for this beginning of his reign, he returned to the room and those within it.
“Thank you, once more, for placing your faith in me. I humbly take this seat as Chief Warlock, and open the floor to you, the parliament.”
Kingsley Shacklebolt seemed to be moving to stand, probably for a concession speech of his own, but Albus was standing so quickly and rigidly Lucius knew the younger man would instantly defer. Though, Lucius took note that the young Auror did frown as he tried to sit back down without notice.
“I wish to congratulate Lord Malfoy on his victory.” Albus was starting out with venom as he spoke in his most authoritative, condemning, tone of voice. “And hope that he will do his utmost to uphold the values that this body embodies.”
There was scoffing from Dumbledore’s supporters, though fewer in number than Lucius had seen them. Elphias Doge was the loudest. He almost always pretended the sun shone out of Albus’ arse and Lucius had to wonder what exactly it was Dumbledore held over the man.
Or if the man was just so utterly in love with the old wixen.
Dedalus Diggle, head of the Department of Magical Transportation at this moment, was the one with the nastiest sneer. The Weasley men were scowling and shaking their heads as if telling their exalted master that there wasn’t a chance of that happening, but not so overtly that it would seem like defiance to the new Chief Warlock.
And of course, Augusta, who could no longer hold her tongue.
“You know he won’t!”
“Isn’t your turn to talk, missy!” Bella was responding in kind, too giddy with the victory to censor herself either.
“Please Augusta, we must honor our processes. We must recognize that our fellow members wished for change.” Dumbledore and Lucius’ gazes met, and he quirked a brow at the man to see where he would take this. “But I caution you all to remember that words are just that. Actions, my friends and colleagues, speak louder than any carefully crafted speech.”
“You can rest assured, Mr. Dumbledore.” Lucius truly felt giddy speaking the words from his heightened position towards the battered, but not yet dead, opponent in front of him. “That my actions are as loud as the words I have spoken.”
He took a small pause, eyed Bella, who was very quick to realize he was about to flaunt this opening Dumbledore had given him in every way he could. She grinned like a cat with a mouse and was nodding eagerly at him to do what he would.
“In fact, why don’t I start right now?” Lucius stood and moved to the center of the room, putting his hands behind his back and looking into the eyes of just about every member he could. “This past year has brought quite a bit of turmoil and damage. Not just to our reputations as lawmakers and councilors for our people, but to our people themselves. One of our most exalted, yet most vulnerable, was lost to the carelessness and callousness of our traditions.”
He heard the room stiffen, odd as it was to think of it in that way. For those in his camp, the usage of the word traditions struck a chord. For the other side of the coin, it was a sharp reminder that Harry Potter; as far as they knew, was dead.
“For many of us, blood is thicker than water. Family should be those that you are most secure with. Most appreciated by. And yet, not all families are equal.”
The word choice was deliberate, and he saw the light-leaning wixen starting to rise to anger, sure beyond any reasonable doubt that Lucius was about to start spouting his former lord’s policies.
“Our investigations have shown us a flaw in our thinking, and we must do something about it.” Lucius stopped right in the center of the room and looked about seriously. “There are signs that some of our future wixen do not make it to the fine halls of Hogwarts. As such I would like to order an inquest into just how many muggle-borns and half-bloods we lose to ‘misunderstandings and outright aggression against those with magical blood.”
He started to see Arthur Weasley start to stand to protest, given he was Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts and a self-proclaimed scholar of muggles and their fascinating inventions. He held up his hand and narrowed his eyes, enough to stop the man’s attempt to start lambasting him as a second coming of the Dark Lord.
“I am not advocating for anything so radical as many of you believe. And I am not demanding we start this moment, as this issue, this travesty, requires far more thought and consideration than we have ever given it.” Lucius glared at Dumbledore, who was furrowing his brow and starting to stand as well. “But we must know how often this occurs so that a fitting solution can be found.”
“Seconded!” Bella was falling into their well-practiced roles. His order for an inquest was now official. Though they had little time to truly delve into the particulars, he wanted Albus Dumbledore to know that this inquest would once again point in his direction.
“I think the best place to start is to research the Book of Admittance from previous years. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall also has several instances she herself is aware of to contribute.”
“The Book of Admittance has been solely a Hogwarts relic!” Dumbledore was roaring to life now, eyes flaring in defiance at the mere thought. “You would use such information to discriminate and…”
“Oh? So, do you not allow the Department of Magical Education to view your book to create the records for incoming students? I am only putting forth that this needs to be investigated and the easiest route would be your precious book.” Lucius calmly stated in return.
“He’s right!” A mousy little woman from the front row was standing up. “If it happened to Harry Potter, who saved us all from damnation, who’s to say it’s not helping to others? That muggle man is a monster! And it was clear he knew what magic was. What about the muggles who do not understand what is happening at all?”
“Not all muggle parents are abusive and murderous beings.” Lucius snickered softly in Dumbledore’s direction, a dumbfounded look upon the old wizard’s face. “However, when faced with unexplainable accidental magic? Muggles tend to react in fear. Fear causes them to do irrational things. If there is danger, arrangements can be made. If not, then perhaps merely a guideline of what to expect is enough.”
Murmurs again rose around them. Lucius let them as he and Narcissa shared a smile. He had sowed the seed he hadn’t been aware was ready for planting today. But Dumbledore had left him too good an opportunity and he had seized it.
“But, as I have also advised, this is something we should discuss and handle delicately. It is something we should think hard on.” Lucius raised his hands, garnering attention back to himself. “I want all of us to consider this issue, consider it with an open mind. Do not let fearmongering and claims of bias and bigotry divert you from a very real issue. We are here to discuss these very issues and hiding our heads in the sands will only allow more like Harry Potter to fall between the cracks.”
Some started to nod their heads, concerned glances at their guests and then back to him. Wary, but somewhat appraising of his first act.
“As it is, this is a day for celebration. My wife and I may have been a bit presumptuous, but we have prepared a lovely lunch for any that wishes to attend at our manor. Consider it an informal meet and greet!”
“All are welcome.” Cissa stood with grace and a blinding smile on her face. “Please, do not think us unapproachable because of our alignments and our past.”
“May we have someone to adjourn us?” Lucius said lightly, hoping that perhaps some of the light leaning wixen would attend but knowing Dumbledore would all but cut off anyone that dared.
“I move to adjourn this silly meeting!” Bella waved her hand around wildly, happy and eager to help him on his way. If Lucius was the focal point, she could continue her more personal crusade against the elderly mugwump.
“Seconded!” Preston too called out with a gleeful tone, and he was quick to come down and grab Lucius’ arm, a strong grip as they both shook as businessmen after a deal. “Well done.”
“A good race.” Lucius nodded back as others began to approach.
“I regret I was not able to properly concede.” Kingsley was next up, and he took the man’s arm in the same greeting.
“Yes, well, when one is dealing with an elder, one usually must defer to them.” Lucius eyed Dumbledore, now surrounded by Longbottom, Weasley, Diggle, and Doge. A few others hovered around them, eyeing him and the larger group moving to ingratiate themselves. “I do not hold it against you and hope you will join us for refreshments.”
“I…” Kingsley looked at Dumbledore, a deep frown then a diverted look to his feet. When the man raised his head once more, there was a spark of indignation there. “You know what, I think I shall.”
“Good man.” Lucius patted his upper arm and inwardly celebrated the small seed of dissent in the other man’s eyes.
Lucius let quite a few of the other well-wishers up and talked with some. He nodded to Cornelius when he asked if a few pictures could be taken for the Prophet before the ‘party’ moved elsewhere. But he quietly excused himself as he saw Dumbledore moving away, one last strike all but demanding the opportunity to strike at the manipulator.
“Albus.” He whispered into the man’s ear as he finally was alone amongst the back of the room. The man did not flinch, did not move, merely let his eyes glance over his shoulder to Lucius and waited. “With the way you protested, one would think you aren’t so pro muggle-borns as you think.”
“I know where this path leads, Lucius. You will claim it a mercy, a better life for those you are supposedly saving, but it will end in the same place. Taking children from their families when they are only babies. Separating muggle-borns and pure-bloods into different social castes.” Albus replied smoothly, whispering as well. “I will see to it that the book stays out of your clutches.”
It was what Lucius had been hoping the old man would say, given what he knew from Draco and Corvus’ tales from Hogwarts. The man really must be going senile, exposing his throat so brazenly in front of a predator.
“Oh?” Lucius stepped up and really let his breath land on the man’s ear. “Just as you kept the Philosopher’s Stone from a common thief?”
Now he had Albus’ attention. Now he saw the anger and the disbelief reflecting in the older man’s eyes. He felt the shift in the man’s magic and steeled himself against it as he prepared to defend his knowledge.
“And just where did…”
“I have been fielding complaints about a three-headed-dog for half a year, Albus. There was an attempt to break into Gringotts, students were being taunted with a mysterious corridor, and reports of a Cerberus in the school.” Lucius purred with glee as he watched Albus pale. “And your own staff was quite eager to be rid of the artefact causing it all.”
“Severus.”
“Please, no matter how much I try to get gossip and hearsay from him, Severus keeps what happens in that castle a secret.” Lucius lied easily and watched Dumbledore stew on that for a moment. “Unless it is a direct threat to my son and his well-being, Severus keeps his priorities straight.”
“And young Mr. Black.”
“Well, his priorities might be a little looser in that area.” Lucius teased, watching the man’s eyes go wide. “Quite the gifted wizard, Lord Black. Like recognizes like, you know. Severus cannot help but offer his assistance to one intelligent enough to absorb it.”
“What do you want Lucius? You’ve won the seat; you have offered up your false promises.” Dumbledore finally turned to face him fully. Lucius quirked his lip and clicked his tongue a touch before shaking his head.
“Me? Nothing! As you have pointed out, I have your seat, I have your influence. You may think them false, but I rather think I can be more effective than you and bring some change to bear.” Lucius lifted his hand to inspect his fingers as bored.
“Then this is merely gloating. How mature of you, Lord Malfoy.” Albus said flatly, gray-blue eyes dulling due to his lack of amusement.
“As if you don’t do the same, Mr. Dumbledore.” Lucius snickered. “Perhaps it is also some curiosity. Tell me, do Nicolas and his poor wife know what has been stolen from them while under your protection? I’m certain your former Alchemy Master would be more than eager to discuss how you’ve doomed them to death.”
At that very moment, a page approached with a very impressive looking letter. But based on the way the young man was shaking as he neared them, he was terrified. Someone had made it very clear to the messenger that he had to ensure Albus Dumbledore received this letter. He held it up to Albus, who eyed it before taking a glance at Lucius.
“If you’ll excuse me, Headmaster, my wife wishes to celebrate the day, and you appear to have business to attend to.”
Lucius grinned with reckless abandon as he approached his wife, earning a kiss on his cheek and a rare public hug from his son.
And his nephew.
And Bella, strangely enough.
It had taken a bit of finagling with the international time zones and of course, collaborating with the much older, savvier Nicolas Flamel. But once he had assured the alchemist that his creation had been stolen, a sly plan had taken root. Lucius had advised exactly when the vote would be held and that a page would hold a letter for any participant until the end of the session. Nicolas and Perenelle had written what Lucius could only assume was quite the missive, and ensured it would be delivered here, on this very day.
And while the alchemist and his charitable wife had been hospitable, they made it clear this was no kind of endorsement of Lucius and his plans. However, it apparently had been one failure too many by Nicolas’ former apprentice and the nearly 625-year-old wizard was livid that Albus had not yet told them of the theft.
Lucius had merely brought them together at an opportune time to ensure that no hard feelings were left between master and apprentice. Surely, the two could work it out and Albus could perhaps help the Flamel’s create another stone before their supply of elixir ran out.
Or a very powerful alchemist would make Albus live to regret his ill-thought scheme involving the Dark Lord and a child that would have been forced through trials and tribulations before his time was up.
Either way, Lucius had done his duty and now fully intended to enjoy his victory. He would start building more connections to ensure his projects were seen to fruition and truly start planning the different initiatives and legislation they had to start selling to their less-than-thrilled counter parts in the Wizengamot.
But just as he had said already; that was for another day.