Disclaimer – I don’t own any of the canon characters or concepts. Don’t sue me.
CHAPTER 23 - Aftermath
HIGH CLAN ALLEGATIONS ALL A HOAX!!!
MALFOY FOUND INNOCENT…
The Daily Prophet would like to apologise for any offence it may have unwittingly caused with the libelous, wild stories concocted by Gerald Tarrant, and authorized by certain backers, who tried to use the media to discredit and incriminate Mr. Malfoy...
“The allegations were all false, of course,” said Mr. Malfoy at a press conference after his acquittal. “Designed to pander to the widespread misunderstandings about the High Clan…”
“I understand that we have been a little isolated from the rest of the world,” he said, “But this unpleasant experience may have the unexpected benefit of bringing us all, muggleborn and wizards and High Clan alike, closer together in the end.”
When asked about the unusual occurrences that took place during his trial, Mr. Malfoy said that when they knew the trial would fail, the anonymous backers tried to use force.
“Thanks to the prompt and skilful actions of the Aurors, no one except the wrongdoers was hurt…”
Mr. Malfoy was found not guilty on all charges, and says that although the last few weeks have been rather stressful for him, he does not bear a grudge. “We live in a free and just society where nothing and no one is above the law,” he said. “And knowing that, how can I be upset?”
**********************************************
Ron Weasley put the paper down and snorted with derisive contempt. “A free and just society where nothing and no one is above the law,” he mocked. “Who the hell is going to believe that?”
Ginny scowled at him. “The people who read the Prophet and actually believe Draco was a murdering oppressor of the poor and downtrodden will, Ron. And the people who don’t believe it probably know something of the real truth, anyway.”
‘I don’t believe it,” he retorted, “and I know that Draco Malfoy is a murdering oppressor of the poor and downtrodden.” Warming to his theme, his face grew red under the freckles. “What in the world possessed you, Gin? I mean, Malfoy! What could possibly have made you decide to marry Draco “I’m-an-all-powerful-Clan-Lord-and-I’m-not-afraid-to-flaunt-it” Malfoy?”
Ginny’s eyes had gone noticeably cool and flat, but her face hadn’t changed at all…seeing the danger signs, Molly Weasley interrupted before Ron dug himself any deeper. “Really, Ronald…”
But her daughter was not going to become upset over a confrontation she had known full well was coming. “Because I love him,” she said regally. “Because he loves me, and because we need each other so much we can’t live without each other.”
Ron shut his mouth. And sardonic clapping came from the doorway, where Draco stood leaning against the jamb. He was dressed in his usual sartorial splendour, in forest green silk; but then, they were all dressed up for the celebratory dinner that Molly Weasley was giving to introduce the newest member of the Weasley family. Ginny might have married into the Malfoy, but Draco had, in return, been accepted into the Weasleys… Something he still refused to think about.
“Congratulations Ron,” he drawled, although not unkindly, “you’ve managed to exile yourself to the dark end of the table tonight, away from the light of her approval…”
Ginny turned her scowl onto her husband. “Be nice to my brothers,” she warned sweetly, “or else you will be joining him.”
He couldn’t help it – he grinned delightedly, and then crossed over to kiss her casually on the cheek. Ron’s scowl softened as he saw the obvious affection in the gesture, but didn’t disappear entirely. This was, after all, Malfoy…He smiled a little ruefully. Some fundamental things didn’t change.
***************************************************
Later on, when they were all seated at the battered and well-used dinner table – Draco and Luc, Harry, the whole Weasley family, and the six Clan Lords who had remained loyal – the talk turned, perhaps inevitably, to the events of the past few days. To the trial, and to the unseen struggle which had taken place during it.
As best as he could, Luc Malfoy described what had happened, and the implications; he wasn’t sure just how much his listeners really understood, but that wasn’t the real issue. The real issue was something deeper, something that had to be established eventually, if they were all to get along together – they had to learn how to trust each other. And that meant, loath as he was to begin, that they would have to start sharing the secrets they had kept for so long, secrets that affected not just the High Clan but the whole of wizarding England as well. Not all of them, no – some things were just too incendiary to be shared with anyone – but most of them.
Well, the ones that they really needed to know, anyway. He was Slytherin. It was against his basic makeup to be completely open about everything.
“So” said Hermione, concentrating intensely, “the Thirteen Clans are gone, replaced with Nine Clans and Four Places?” She looked puzzled. “Why did you fashion it in that way?”
Draco shrugged – he didn’t remember much of what happened; all he could remember was the strain, and the exhilarating feel of the raw power that he had held, his to do with as he pleased…but he did remember the reasoning behind the odd composition.
“Four Places, roughly spread over most of Britain, to anchor the Binding,” he said quietly. “As long as those Places exist, as long as their magic lasts, they will anchor the enchantment in the very bedrock of Britain itself…” Of course, the Places’ magic could be wiped clean and replaced with something new – but he was gambling that the chances of that happening, of someone being desperate and ruthless enough to try recreating such a feat, were all but negligible. It was an interesting fact to note that in each of the four Places, something unusual and unexpected had occurred – a huge surge of power, a momentary renewal of what the Place had been like, long, long ago, in its most glorious days…
“And Nine Clans to perpetuate it,” he finished, “through their Covenant. These Locks will ensure the more…elaborate…sections of the Binding will hold firm. Nine is a sacred number, there is magic in that alone, and it is high enough that it will take a clear, and probably unlikely, majority of dissenting Lords to upset the Balance…”
“And every one of those Nine Clans is completely loyal to the Malfoy, and more than likely to remain so,” murmured Harry cynically. He was feeling a very unworthy, very unGryffindoric streak of pique that he hadn’t known that any of this was going on. But he didn’t mention it, not wanting to become the focus of all those clear, penetrating Slytherin High Clan eyes, so different in the way they looked at the world, in the way they watched and analysed, judging by an alien standard and alien beliefs. He didn’t pretend to understand them at all.
“So what does this mean?” he finally asked. “Now that the High Clan has been…rearranged, can things be the same as they were before?”
Luc shook his head slowly. “I would like to say yes, Potter, you have no idea how much I’d like to say yes…” he looked up and met Harry’s eyes, met Arthur Weasley’s eyes, and held them as he spoke. “But public opinion, even mitigated by the Prophet’s abrupt about-face, has swung too far away from us.” He paused, took a sip from his glass, and went on. “Things cannot go back to the way they once were – we will have to come out of the shadows.” He tilted his head towards Draco. “And who better than the Malfoy to lead us into the light?” He grinned. “Some things do not change.”
Arthur managed a sardonic grin. “Because you work so hard to ensure they stay the same…”
Luc only raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
“One last thing,” said Severus Snape, quiet until now, keeping his own counsel. “How did you ensure you would win the trial?”
The others, who had also wanted to understand this, all looked to Luc and Draco for the answer. With a slightly rueful grin, Luc conceded the field to Draco – to the true Lord. He had come into his own, now – and he could survive without Luc guiding his actions and preparing the way. Draco tapped his fingers on the table, thinking of how best to explain.
Finally, he looked up, his eyes dark, determined and implacable, and managed to shock them all, completely and without exception.
Except, of course, for Luc, who had helped to mastermind the whole thing.
“Quite frankly,” he said, his voice soft but his words clearly enunciated, “the trial was unimportant…” He held up a hand to still the murmured speculation. “I needed to bring all the parties, all the players together, in the one room, at the same time…”
“Circumstances, and a rather,” he raised an eyebrow, “impulsive action on my part made a trial inevitable, but gathering every single player together – the renegades, the loyal Lords, the media, everyone else who could possibly have an interest in this Game – where I could control what was said, what was revealed, and what was done, was an absolutely priceless opportunity. It was the perfect time and place to force a confrontation.” As he spoke, his face was set and impassive, his eyes dark and not a bit amused, and the force of his will was all too evident – it radiated in everything he did and everything he said. This was not Draco the man, with his sardonic humour and his brilliant smile. This was Caius Draconis, the Clan Lord, in all his power…and all his ruthlessness.
Molly frowned. “I thought that the others attacked first.”
A small, thin smile, cold enough to raise hairs on the back of the neck. “So they did. The best plans,” he said smiling without any warmth, “are the ones where the enemy think they are in control…”
“But are really dancing to your tune,” Snape finished, knowing the maxim all too well. “Are you saying that you gambled everything on winning this confrontation?” he breathed, too softly.
Draco met his eyes, raised an almost insolent eyebrow in silent affirmation, almost a dare. “If I had lost,” he said softly, “there would have been no point in being found innocent.”
“You’re mad,” breathed Ron.
Draco turned towards his brother-in-law, who instinctively flinched away. “No,” he said quietly. “I was cornered.”
There was dead silence all around the table.
To break the straining tension, Snape closed his eyes, massaged his throbbing temples wearily, breathed in deeply for a few moments, and then looked back at Draco. “I am grateful,” he murmured formally, inclining his head, “most grateful that you did not tell me this back then…”
The Lord of Clan Malfoy only smiled.
**************************************************
Draco didn’t know exactly how he felt. On one hand, the most hellish few weeks of his life were over, and the world was in no danger of immediate destruction anymore. He had found his soul mate, his wife, and he had taken control of his Clan and established himself unquestioned Lord.
On the other…well, he had been adopted into the Weasley family. He had to come up with a way to integrate the High Clan into normal society, and he would have to do a lot of juggling in the future, if he were to see it succeed. It would probably be the hardest thing he would ever turn his hand to, but if he could pull it off…! If he could pull it off, it would be more than worth whatever price he would have to pay for it.
He looked over to Ginevra, her face illuminated by the moonlight, and she turned to him and smiled, a special, knowing smile that she reserved for him and him alone. His heartbeat quickened. Any price except her, he thought. Some things in this world are sacred. There were some things that he would never give up, some prices he would never pay, not even for the good of the High Clan…
********************************************
Ginny watched her husband’s eyes, searching for an indication of what he was thinking, for whatever had caused that great wave of resolve and determination that had just passed through him…
There was more to him, she knew, than arrogance, than sardonic humour, than even the power he wore so naturally. He had more layers, more contradictions, than anyone she had ever met, except perhaps for Luc. She didn’t pretend to understand him, or the way his mind worked – but she thought she might be beginning to see something of the whole picture. Anyway, she didn’t need to know everything now – she had her whole life to come to terms with him.
She thought, again, of the incredible gamble he had taken in the courtroom, of just how close she had come to losing him…everything inside of her clenched in denial, in rejection – she could not lose him. She would not lose him. Because he was hers, and hers alone, for the rest of their lives…
And damned if she would let him go, no matter what else tried to take him away from her. Not even the High Clan.
**********************************************
They came together, holding each other close, reveling in the simple joy of the other’s presence. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the smooth, utterly feminine scent of her skin, of her body, and let go of all his cares and worries, all his burdens and secrets. Here, and now, was home. She was the centre of his world. Here, and now, he was forgiven. He was free.
***********************************************
Just before they retired for the night, Luc and Severus, Rayden, Brandon, Shan and Dirk all met in the kitchen, just before the huge window that looked out into the garden. Draco and his wife were out walking, strolling along slowly hand in hand, and all six friends, who had grown up together, who had gone to Hogwarts together, who had entered the Death Eaters together and now watched over their greatest hope together, all smiled approvingly at the picture the two lovers made.
Luc only wished that Lucius were there to share it with them. I wish you could see it, he whispered to the shade of his long dead brother. You would be so proud… Proud that his son had grown into the mantle of Clan Lord. Proud that he had found a soul mate – even if she was a Weasley.
Understanding his train of thought, Snape laid a hand on his shoulder. “He knows, Luc. Wherever he is, he knows…”
Brandon nodded. “Lucius died so that Draco could become what he is now…he would have thought it worth it.”
Luc laughed shortly, a little bitterly. It still hurt, even now – he still grieved, deep down in his heart for the silver, sardonic brother he had loved so dearly. “We all thought it worth it, Bran,” he said, not speaking of Lucius’ death anymore. “We accepted the price gladly, and received our just desserts…”
“But look where we are today,” Dirk said, his voice intent. “We paid, and we received exactly what we paid for – but that was in the past, Luc. It’s over. There’s a new Game to play now…and a new Lord, to take control of it.”
Snape smiled a little in the darkness. “A new, unstained Lord to lead us all into the light…and perhaps even into absolution.”
They stood there for a few more minutes, watching over the Malfoy and his wife, and then with strangely wistful smiles, they blew out the lanterns, leaving only one to burn in the window to guide the two lovers back, and went up to their rest.
Tomorrow would be another day.
***********************************************
THE END
***********************************************
Last note: Influences on this fic.
After spending more than ten years immersed in fantasy, historical and romance novels, and nearly two in fanfic, it is impossible not to pick up some preconceived ideas by osmosis. But there were some identifiable things that I borrowed for this story:
The idea of invaders coming from over the sea and taking over I first found in Peter Morwood’s Horse Lords series (ie the book of years). They, too, called themselves the High Clan, although I have considerably altered them for this fic. As I have mentioned earlier, Stephen Lawhead’s “Avalon: The Return of King Arthur” gave me the idea for the debate over the aristocracy, and his series the Paradise War was the main basis of the Covenant and the idea of an impure ruler tainting and twisting the land. The sharing of blood and the blood sacrifice is as old as time. Patrick McCormack’s “Albion: The Last Companion” gave me the basic ideas for erasing/turning the land’s magic.
Luc Malfoy and his House of de Sauvigny are hugely influenced by James Clavell’s “Noble House” and “Tai-pan”. The Veil that separates the Malfoy land from outside was borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley’s “The Mists of Avalon”, and the Malfoy inner magic (the ardeur) and the general morality of the High Clans comes from Laurell K. Hamilton. Lurking in the background was the great queen Georgette Heyer, who had a great influence on my susceptible mind, and Guy Gavriel Kay who writes some of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.
And, as always, many thanks to my beta reader Jess, and to each and every one of my reviewers.
CHAPTER 23 - Aftermath
HIGH CLAN ALLEGATIONS ALL A HOAX!!!
MALFOY FOUND INNOCENT…
The Daily Prophet would like to apologise for any offence it may have unwittingly caused with the libelous, wild stories concocted by Gerald Tarrant, and authorized by certain backers, who tried to use the media to discredit and incriminate Mr. Malfoy...
“The allegations were all false, of course,” said Mr. Malfoy at a press conference after his acquittal. “Designed to pander to the widespread misunderstandings about the High Clan…”
“I understand that we have been a little isolated from the rest of the world,” he said, “But this unpleasant experience may have the unexpected benefit of bringing us all, muggleborn and wizards and High Clan alike, closer together in the end.”
When asked about the unusual occurrences that took place during his trial, Mr. Malfoy said that when they knew the trial would fail, the anonymous backers tried to use force.
“Thanks to the prompt and skilful actions of the Aurors, no one except the wrongdoers was hurt…”
Mr. Malfoy was found not guilty on all charges, and says that although the last few weeks have been rather stressful for him, he does not bear a grudge. “We live in a free and just society where nothing and no one is above the law,” he said. “And knowing that, how can I be upset?”
**********************************************
Ron Weasley put the paper down and snorted with derisive contempt. “A free and just society where nothing and no one is above the law,” he mocked. “Who the hell is going to believe that?”
Ginny scowled at him. “The people who read the Prophet and actually believe Draco was a murdering oppressor of the poor and downtrodden will, Ron. And the people who don’t believe it probably know something of the real truth, anyway.”
‘I don’t believe it,” he retorted, “and I know that Draco Malfoy is a murdering oppressor of the poor and downtrodden.” Warming to his theme, his face grew red under the freckles. “What in the world possessed you, Gin? I mean, Malfoy! What could possibly have made you decide to marry Draco “I’m-an-all-powerful-Clan-Lord-and-I’m-not-afraid-to-flaunt-it” Malfoy?”
Ginny’s eyes had gone noticeably cool and flat, but her face hadn’t changed at all…seeing the danger signs, Molly Weasley interrupted before Ron dug himself any deeper. “Really, Ronald…”
But her daughter was not going to become upset over a confrontation she had known full well was coming. “Because I love him,” she said regally. “Because he loves me, and because we need each other so much we can’t live without each other.”
Ron shut his mouth. And sardonic clapping came from the doorway, where Draco stood leaning against the jamb. He was dressed in his usual sartorial splendour, in forest green silk; but then, they were all dressed up for the celebratory dinner that Molly Weasley was giving to introduce the newest member of the Weasley family. Ginny might have married into the Malfoy, but Draco had, in return, been accepted into the Weasleys… Something he still refused to think about.
“Congratulations Ron,” he drawled, although not unkindly, “you’ve managed to exile yourself to the dark end of the table tonight, away from the light of her approval…”
Ginny turned her scowl onto her husband. “Be nice to my brothers,” she warned sweetly, “or else you will be joining him.”
He couldn’t help it – he grinned delightedly, and then crossed over to kiss her casually on the cheek. Ron’s scowl softened as he saw the obvious affection in the gesture, but didn’t disappear entirely. This was, after all, Malfoy…He smiled a little ruefully. Some fundamental things didn’t change.
***************************************************
Later on, when they were all seated at the battered and well-used dinner table – Draco and Luc, Harry, the whole Weasley family, and the six Clan Lords who had remained loyal – the talk turned, perhaps inevitably, to the events of the past few days. To the trial, and to the unseen struggle which had taken place during it.
As best as he could, Luc Malfoy described what had happened, and the implications; he wasn’t sure just how much his listeners really understood, but that wasn’t the real issue. The real issue was something deeper, something that had to be established eventually, if they were all to get along together – they had to learn how to trust each other. And that meant, loath as he was to begin, that they would have to start sharing the secrets they had kept for so long, secrets that affected not just the High Clan but the whole of wizarding England as well. Not all of them, no – some things were just too incendiary to be shared with anyone – but most of them.
Well, the ones that they really needed to know, anyway. He was Slytherin. It was against his basic makeup to be completely open about everything.
“So” said Hermione, concentrating intensely, “the Thirteen Clans are gone, replaced with Nine Clans and Four Places?” She looked puzzled. “Why did you fashion it in that way?”
Draco shrugged – he didn’t remember much of what happened; all he could remember was the strain, and the exhilarating feel of the raw power that he had held, his to do with as he pleased…but he did remember the reasoning behind the odd composition.
“Four Places, roughly spread over most of Britain, to anchor the Binding,” he said quietly. “As long as those Places exist, as long as their magic lasts, they will anchor the enchantment in the very bedrock of Britain itself…” Of course, the Places’ magic could be wiped clean and replaced with something new – but he was gambling that the chances of that happening, of someone being desperate and ruthless enough to try recreating such a feat, were all but negligible. It was an interesting fact to note that in each of the four Places, something unusual and unexpected had occurred – a huge surge of power, a momentary renewal of what the Place had been like, long, long ago, in its most glorious days…
“And Nine Clans to perpetuate it,” he finished, “through their Covenant. These Locks will ensure the more…elaborate…sections of the Binding will hold firm. Nine is a sacred number, there is magic in that alone, and it is high enough that it will take a clear, and probably unlikely, majority of dissenting Lords to upset the Balance…”
“And every one of those Nine Clans is completely loyal to the Malfoy, and more than likely to remain so,” murmured Harry cynically. He was feeling a very unworthy, very unGryffindoric streak of pique that he hadn’t known that any of this was going on. But he didn’t mention it, not wanting to become the focus of all those clear, penetrating Slytherin High Clan eyes, so different in the way they looked at the world, in the way they watched and analysed, judging by an alien standard and alien beliefs. He didn’t pretend to understand them at all.
“So what does this mean?” he finally asked. “Now that the High Clan has been…rearranged, can things be the same as they were before?”
Luc shook his head slowly. “I would like to say yes, Potter, you have no idea how much I’d like to say yes…” he looked up and met Harry’s eyes, met Arthur Weasley’s eyes, and held them as he spoke. “But public opinion, even mitigated by the Prophet’s abrupt about-face, has swung too far away from us.” He paused, took a sip from his glass, and went on. “Things cannot go back to the way they once were – we will have to come out of the shadows.” He tilted his head towards Draco. “And who better than the Malfoy to lead us into the light?” He grinned. “Some things do not change.”
Arthur managed a sardonic grin. “Because you work so hard to ensure they stay the same…”
Luc only raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
“One last thing,” said Severus Snape, quiet until now, keeping his own counsel. “How did you ensure you would win the trial?”
The others, who had also wanted to understand this, all looked to Luc and Draco for the answer. With a slightly rueful grin, Luc conceded the field to Draco – to the true Lord. He had come into his own, now – and he could survive without Luc guiding his actions and preparing the way. Draco tapped his fingers on the table, thinking of how best to explain.
Finally, he looked up, his eyes dark, determined and implacable, and managed to shock them all, completely and without exception.
Except, of course, for Luc, who had helped to mastermind the whole thing.
“Quite frankly,” he said, his voice soft but his words clearly enunciated, “the trial was unimportant…” He held up a hand to still the murmured speculation. “I needed to bring all the parties, all the players together, in the one room, at the same time…”
“Circumstances, and a rather,” he raised an eyebrow, “impulsive action on my part made a trial inevitable, but gathering every single player together – the renegades, the loyal Lords, the media, everyone else who could possibly have an interest in this Game – where I could control what was said, what was revealed, and what was done, was an absolutely priceless opportunity. It was the perfect time and place to force a confrontation.” As he spoke, his face was set and impassive, his eyes dark and not a bit amused, and the force of his will was all too evident – it radiated in everything he did and everything he said. This was not Draco the man, with his sardonic humour and his brilliant smile. This was Caius Draconis, the Clan Lord, in all his power…and all his ruthlessness.
Molly frowned. “I thought that the others attacked first.”
A small, thin smile, cold enough to raise hairs on the back of the neck. “So they did. The best plans,” he said smiling without any warmth, “are the ones where the enemy think they are in control…”
“But are really dancing to your tune,” Snape finished, knowing the maxim all too well. “Are you saying that you gambled everything on winning this confrontation?” he breathed, too softly.
Draco met his eyes, raised an almost insolent eyebrow in silent affirmation, almost a dare. “If I had lost,” he said softly, “there would have been no point in being found innocent.”
“You’re mad,” breathed Ron.
Draco turned towards his brother-in-law, who instinctively flinched away. “No,” he said quietly. “I was cornered.”
There was dead silence all around the table.
To break the straining tension, Snape closed his eyes, massaged his throbbing temples wearily, breathed in deeply for a few moments, and then looked back at Draco. “I am grateful,” he murmured formally, inclining his head, “most grateful that you did not tell me this back then…”
The Lord of Clan Malfoy only smiled.
**************************************************
Draco didn’t know exactly how he felt. On one hand, the most hellish few weeks of his life were over, and the world was in no danger of immediate destruction anymore. He had found his soul mate, his wife, and he had taken control of his Clan and established himself unquestioned Lord.
On the other…well, he had been adopted into the Weasley family. He had to come up with a way to integrate the High Clan into normal society, and he would have to do a lot of juggling in the future, if he were to see it succeed. It would probably be the hardest thing he would ever turn his hand to, but if he could pull it off…! If he could pull it off, it would be more than worth whatever price he would have to pay for it.
He looked over to Ginevra, her face illuminated by the moonlight, and she turned to him and smiled, a special, knowing smile that she reserved for him and him alone. His heartbeat quickened. Any price except her, he thought. Some things in this world are sacred. There were some things that he would never give up, some prices he would never pay, not even for the good of the High Clan…
********************************************
Ginny watched her husband’s eyes, searching for an indication of what he was thinking, for whatever had caused that great wave of resolve and determination that had just passed through him…
There was more to him, she knew, than arrogance, than sardonic humour, than even the power he wore so naturally. He had more layers, more contradictions, than anyone she had ever met, except perhaps for Luc. She didn’t pretend to understand him, or the way his mind worked – but she thought she might be beginning to see something of the whole picture. Anyway, she didn’t need to know everything now – she had her whole life to come to terms with him.
She thought, again, of the incredible gamble he had taken in the courtroom, of just how close she had come to losing him…everything inside of her clenched in denial, in rejection – she could not lose him. She would not lose him. Because he was hers, and hers alone, for the rest of their lives…
And damned if she would let him go, no matter what else tried to take him away from her. Not even the High Clan.
**********************************************
They came together, holding each other close, reveling in the simple joy of the other’s presence. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the smooth, utterly feminine scent of her skin, of her body, and let go of all his cares and worries, all his burdens and secrets. Here, and now, was home. She was the centre of his world. Here, and now, he was forgiven. He was free.
***********************************************
Just before they retired for the night, Luc and Severus, Rayden, Brandon, Shan and Dirk all met in the kitchen, just before the huge window that looked out into the garden. Draco and his wife were out walking, strolling along slowly hand in hand, and all six friends, who had grown up together, who had gone to Hogwarts together, who had entered the Death Eaters together and now watched over their greatest hope together, all smiled approvingly at the picture the two lovers made.
Luc only wished that Lucius were there to share it with them. I wish you could see it, he whispered to the shade of his long dead brother. You would be so proud… Proud that his son had grown into the mantle of Clan Lord. Proud that he had found a soul mate – even if she was a Weasley.
Understanding his train of thought, Snape laid a hand on his shoulder. “He knows, Luc. Wherever he is, he knows…”
Brandon nodded. “Lucius died so that Draco could become what he is now…he would have thought it worth it.”
Luc laughed shortly, a little bitterly. It still hurt, even now – he still grieved, deep down in his heart for the silver, sardonic brother he had loved so dearly. “We all thought it worth it, Bran,” he said, not speaking of Lucius’ death anymore. “We accepted the price gladly, and received our just desserts…”
“But look where we are today,” Dirk said, his voice intent. “We paid, and we received exactly what we paid for – but that was in the past, Luc. It’s over. There’s a new Game to play now…and a new Lord, to take control of it.”
Snape smiled a little in the darkness. “A new, unstained Lord to lead us all into the light…and perhaps even into absolution.”
They stood there for a few more minutes, watching over the Malfoy and his wife, and then with strangely wistful smiles, they blew out the lanterns, leaving only one to burn in the window to guide the two lovers back, and went up to their rest.
Tomorrow would be another day.
***********************************************
THE END
***********************************************
Last note: Influences on this fic.
After spending more than ten years immersed in fantasy, historical and romance novels, and nearly two in fanfic, it is impossible not to pick up some preconceived ideas by osmosis. But there were some identifiable things that I borrowed for this story:
The idea of invaders coming from over the sea and taking over I first found in Peter Morwood’s Horse Lords series (ie the book of years). They, too, called themselves the High Clan, although I have considerably altered them for this fic. As I have mentioned earlier, Stephen Lawhead’s “Avalon: The Return of King Arthur” gave me the idea for the debate over the aristocracy, and his series the Paradise War was the main basis of the Covenant and the idea of an impure ruler tainting and twisting the land. The sharing of blood and the blood sacrifice is as old as time. Patrick McCormack’s “Albion: The Last Companion” gave me the basic ideas for erasing/turning the land’s magic.
Luc Malfoy and his House of de Sauvigny are hugely influenced by James Clavell’s “Noble House” and “Tai-pan”. The Veil that separates the Malfoy land from outside was borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley’s “The Mists of Avalon”, and the Malfoy inner magic (the ardeur) and the general morality of the High Clans comes from Laurell K. Hamilton. Lurking in the background was the great queen Georgette Heyer, who had a great influence on my susceptible mind, and Guy Gavriel Kay who writes some of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.
And, as always, many thanks to my beta reader Jess, and to each and every one of my reviewers.
The End.
LadyRhiyana is the author of 16 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 136 members. Members who liked Unforgiven also liked 1709 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 136 members. Members who liked Unforgiven also liked 1709 other stories.
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