#I like to think Vince and Louie have pissing contests often

[marie-dufresne]

Tainted Bloodlines

In true Frenchie Style, here I am with a fic with absolutely zero context, in the middle of the timeline of an AU that lives rent free in my head but nowhere on paper.

Former schoolmate and fellow socialite Lucius Malfoy harasses Vincent about his recent life changes.

1983

Being chained to a desk was not how Vincent Valentine had imagined his career as an Auror would begin. It had been nearly a year since his initiation ceremony and while it had taken him longer than most to complete his training, he still remained one of the most promising youths in the office despite his current role as a paper pusher.

Halfway through his journey to his desk, he was intercepted by—no--joined by a face he couldn’t say he was ever pleased to see.

Lucius Malfoy.

They’d been contemporaries at school, if only for two years, Lucius graduating after Vincent’s second year, but he’d never forget the remarks that had been made in an attempt to foster a friendship. Lucius had been able to ‘forgive’ Vincent’s sorting into Ravenclaw, on account of his family’s prestige and pureblooded lineage.

Even more aloof as a child than he was now as a young man, Vincent had avoided contact since.

“So it’s true then,” Lucius all but purred as they walked, both possessing a slow, leisurely gait, “the Auror with the golden arm.”

Casting his sight down to his left hand, Vincent hid the glittering flesh beneath his crimson robes, ignoring the comment. He was grateful to be alive, but embarrassed by the mark that caused him to stand out. He didn’t ever intend to be known beyond his family name, and the marred appendage only reminded him of the time he’d spent tortured by Hojo.

“I’m sorry to hear of your experience with those….Death Eaters,” Lucius went on, “it must have been…horrific.”

This time, Vincent did cast his glance to the side, lifting his chin a bit.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Malfoy let a small bit of air through his nose, entertaining a smirk, “come now, Valentine. We all know I was under the Imperius Curse at that time. Don’t hold that against me. The Ministry certainly doesn’t.”

Yes. That was the story Lucius spun once the Wizarding War came to an end and the Death Eaters had been rounded up and sent to Azkaban, Malfoy was spared, his story and influence gaining him pardon that no one truly believed in, including the Valentine family. Society Elites did not remain ignorant of each others’ histories and habits, after all.

“I would congratulate you on your recent nuptials,” he offered, changing the subject. Valentines weren’t as easily swayed as some; keeping attention off the recent past was best for now, “but I didn’t receive an invitation.”

“It was a small ceremony,” Vincent clipped, not at all the jovial socialite his father was.

“A disgrace,” Lucius corrected, “shackling yourself to a half-blood. I had always thought so much better of your family.”

Ah. So that was his true intention. To make an attempt to humiliate him with his ridiculously outdated ideals. Vincent wasn’t about to defend his personal life to someone he despised, so again, he awarded him silence.

“I’ve married as well. I would have invited you but you were…” he cast his glance down to where Vincent’s left hand rested under his robes, “occupied.”

“Interesting way to say ‘left for dead’,” Vincent mused.

“Narcissa Black. Surely you remember her. A true lady, unlike your…mudblood of a bride.”

At the slur, Vincent’s jaw set so hard he wondered if his teeth might crack, but he didn’t respond or lash out. There were more important matters at hand than an overgrown bully. He did recall Narcissa Black and found she suited Malfoy perfectly well. In his estimation, that was most certainly not a compliment.

This walk was hardly so torturous any other day of the week. How close were they to the lifts? His office couldn’t be far off now. “We have a son. I suggest you do the same. There’s nothing you can do to fix your family now, but the very least you can do is erase as much of the muggle from it as you can.”

“I—“

“Until next time, Valentine.”

And before Vincent could come up with a proper rebuttal, Malfoy was gone, leaving the new Auror more befuddled than offended.

He hadn’t thought about children yet.