100Quills: #47 - Silver
Title: Brand New
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #47 - Silver
Word count: 606
Summary: Lucius's life is all fitting back together since the fall of the Dark Lord, and he's off to get the last "piece".
Notes: My first post!DH fic o_o; written for my 100quills challenge. Unbeta'd o_x
Slowly sitting down into his comfortable chair at his desk, Lucius looked around his office with a content smile. The torment he and his family had gone through was over, the Dark Lord dead along with his God awful sister-in-law. Yes, the Malfoy Manor was empty from anyone outside of his immediate family.
The Ministry was picking itself up from its feet, with help from almost everyone who could spare a hand. He himself had donated a hefty amount of gold towards the cause, slotting himself quite neatly back into his former position. Potter’s debt for Narcissa’s treachery toward the Dark Lord hadn’t gone unnoticed. The Malfoys’ were cleared of all charges, and their reputation boosted by The Prophet’s coverage of everything that had happened since the fall of Lord Voldemort.
There was only one thing left to do. Lucius moved away from his desk and walked over to the fireplace, and delicately removed a vase from the mantle, cupping a moderate amount of Floo Powder. Moments later Lucius was inside Ollivander’s, and he approached the old wand maker, who looked rather weary.
“Mr Malfoy,” Ollivander said quietly, looking up at Malfoy with an unreadable expression. “I assume you’re here for your wand…” with a wave of his own, a long, thin box flew from one of the stacks and gently landed on Ollivander’s desk.
Lucius stepped forward; greed grew in his eyes as he moved a hand out to open the box, when it was magically repelled.
“It’s not quite finished yet,” Ollivander told him, his voice cold. Lucius moved back from the desk, as a sign of respect toward the old man. Although he had no control over the capturing and torture of the wand maker, Lucius knew Ollivander blamed him as much as he did everyone else who followed Lord Voldemort. Yet even his extreme dislike toward the Malfoys' didn’t stop Ollivander from making them wands.
Ollivander rose difficultly from his seat, his body moving much slower then it used to. Lucius waited patiently as the old man disappeared into a back room. When he emerged he was holding a long, black stick, which Lucius recognised immediately. Then Ollivander opened up the wand’s box on his desk, and delicately removed it and slid it into the stick.
Lucius beamed as Ollivander handed over the wand holder, his eyes feverishly taking in the serpent’s head, silver shiny and brand new.
“It’s just like the old one,” Lucius whispered, his fingers clutching the top of the snake’s head and unsheathing his wand with ease. The great warmth he’d felt days before hand when trying out wands filled his arm and body again, a feeling he’d long missed.
The removal of his wand, by Voldemort’s cold hands, had felt to Lucius as if he’d been castrated. Without it, he was powerless and relying on his wife in case of an attack. He’d felt even worse when he’d found out Potter had magically broken it. Those days felt so far away, where he fretted he’d never own a wand that was just right for him again.
But now, with this new wand and its holder, he felt like the old Lucius Malfoy, powerful and respected, if a little less arrogant. Handing over a small pouch of gold, which covered the cost of the wand and holder, along with a generous tip, Lucius thanked Ollivander courteously before turning back to the fireplace. Yes, everything was right back where it belonged in Lucius Malfoy’s world.
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: #47 - Silver
Word count: 606
Summary: Lucius's life is all fitting back together since the fall of the Dark Lord, and he's off to get the last "piece".
Notes: My first post!DH fic o_o; written for my 100quills challenge. Unbeta'd o_x
Slowly sitting down into his comfortable chair at his desk, Lucius looked around his office with a content smile. The torment he and his family had gone through was over, the Dark Lord dead along with his God awful sister-in-law. Yes, the Malfoy Manor was empty from anyone outside of his immediate family.
The Ministry was picking itself up from its feet, with help from almost everyone who could spare a hand. He himself had donated a hefty amount of gold towards the cause, slotting himself quite neatly back into his former position. Potter’s debt for Narcissa’s treachery toward the Dark Lord hadn’t gone unnoticed. The Malfoys’ were cleared of all charges, and their reputation boosted by The Prophet’s coverage of everything that had happened since the fall of Lord Voldemort.
There was only one thing left to do. Lucius moved away from his desk and walked over to the fireplace, and delicately removed a vase from the mantle, cupping a moderate amount of Floo Powder. Moments later Lucius was inside Ollivander’s, and he approached the old wand maker, who looked rather weary.
“Mr Malfoy,” Ollivander said quietly, looking up at Malfoy with an unreadable expression. “I assume you’re here for your wand…” with a wave of his own, a long, thin box flew from one of the stacks and gently landed on Ollivander’s desk.
Lucius stepped forward; greed grew in his eyes as he moved a hand out to open the box, when it was magically repelled.
“It’s not quite finished yet,” Ollivander told him, his voice cold. Lucius moved back from the desk, as a sign of respect toward the old man. Although he had no control over the capturing and torture of the wand maker, Lucius knew Ollivander blamed him as much as he did everyone else who followed Lord Voldemort. Yet even his extreme dislike toward the Malfoys' didn’t stop Ollivander from making them wands.
Ollivander rose difficultly from his seat, his body moving much slower then it used to. Lucius waited patiently as the old man disappeared into a back room. When he emerged he was holding a long, black stick, which Lucius recognised immediately. Then Ollivander opened up the wand’s box on his desk, and delicately removed it and slid it into the stick.
Lucius beamed as Ollivander handed over the wand holder, his eyes feverishly taking in the serpent’s head, silver shiny and brand new.
“It’s just like the old one,” Lucius whispered, his fingers clutching the top of the snake’s head and unsheathing his wand with ease. The great warmth he’d felt days before hand when trying out wands filled his arm and body again, a feeling he’d long missed.
The removal of his wand, by Voldemort’s cold hands, had felt to Lucius as if he’d been castrated. Without it, he was powerless and relying on his wife in case of an attack. He’d felt even worse when he’d found out Potter had magically broken it. Those days felt so far away, where he fretted he’d never own a wand that was just right for him again.
But now, with this new wand and its holder, he felt like the old Lucius Malfoy, powerful and respected, if a little less arrogant. Handing over a small pouch of gold, which covered the cost of the wand and holder, along with a generous tip, Lucius thanked Ollivander courteously before turning back to the fireplace. Yes, everything was right back where it belonged in Lucius Malfoy’s world.