Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. My stories are purely for entertainment value. I do not make profit out of them in any way.


He had been sitting there for nearly two hours now, staring into the void, oblivious to the people surrounding him in the always busy Leicester Square park. He had so much to think about, to consider, yet nothing came to him. His mind was empty and truth be told – he liked it that way. The past few years had been the hardest of his life, and now it was time for a change. The thing was, he had no idea what kind of change.

Suddenly he noticed a girl standing in front of him, holding two cups of coffee. He looked at her with an arrogant expression, on that usually send nosy Muggles away. But this girl smiled at him and offered him one of the cups.

"I thought you looked like you could use some." she said, forcing it in his hand. She awaited no invitation and sat down next to him, sipping her own coffee. She looked at him curiously and started babbling away. "I skipped work today, because I thought there might be something more important for me to do than clear out boxes. I'm glad I did, because you need me." He closed his eyes, and growled at her. "Go away." He opened his eyes again, hoping against his better judgment that he had made her leave. Instead, he looked in two of the brightest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

"It's easier to open up to a stranger." she told him. "Strangers don't judge." He sent her a sarcastic look, for he knew better. Everyone judged, especially strangers! He'd had enough of this invasion on his privacy and grabbed his cane, planning to leave. Her hand covered his and when he looked back at her, the cold suggestion he had planned to give her, died on his lips.

She punished him with a radiant smile and offered him her free hand. "I'm Wendy." He felt obliged to take her hand as he mumbled his last name. "Malfoy?" she smiled. "I was hoping you would have a first name as well."

He gave in. He was mentally too tired to put up a fight any longer. He looked away from her, stared at the doves picking in the grass and told her what she wanted to hear.


She sat quietly beside him long enough to make him curious why. He looked at her and saw her amused eyes glancing over her cup of coffee. "Hello Lucius .." she said in a soft tone that made him aware of a sensation in his stomach that he hadn't experienced for a long time. He quickly looked back at the doves.

"Now that we are acquainted, you might feel more comfortable telling me why you've been sitting here for at least an hour, looking miserable?" He gave her a surprised look. She smiled at him and pointed to the opposite side of the little park. "I sat there and you caught my eye." Lucius nodded. Maybe this Muggle girl was right. It could be a relief, maybe it would lift some of the weight of his shoulders.

"I just filed for my divorce." He waited, but he felt the same as before. This conclusion disappointed him more than he had counted upon.

The girl, Wendy, put her hand on his again. Her voice sounded warm and compassionate. "You still love her." He pulled his hand away. "We grew apart." He felt her eyes burning on him, it made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want her to leave any longer. He refused to wonder why and continued to talk to her, setting his mind of the question.

"It wasn't the same after the war. People looked at us differently. They didn't respect us like they used to." The dove he had been concentrating on, flew up. "We lost a lot. I think she never forgave me."

"You don't strike me as a man who makes rash decisions. Whatever happened, she must have been fully aware of the consequences and no less responsible than you were." Her reply surprised him. He gave her a curious look. "Perhaps." He said cautiously. "Nevertheless, my actions endangered my family and this is something I do not forgive myself for."

He did not avert his eyes and she searched his, looking for answers on questions she dared not ask. She hesitated, he saw insecurity in her eyes. She had seen his coldness, maybe even his killer instinct and he knew she had second thoughts about him. Every other day he would have shrugged and let her go. But today he didn't feel capable of facing the rejection. He was disgusted with the plea in his voice but he saw no other way to convince her to stay.

"Yes, I have done wrong. Very wrong. But I've learned from my mistakes. Paidfor them. Twice." He looked away. "Azkaban is no joy for any man."

"Azkanban?" she asked. "Is that where you went to war?" He stirred. For a moment he had forgotten he was talking to a Muggle. Someone beneath him. Someone who knew nothing about the world he lived in. How could he have fallen so deep that he opened up to a Muggle! He got up swiftly with the intention to leave her behind.

She followed him though as if he had invited her to come along. How could he get rid of the girl, Wendy, without drawing attention to himself? There was a time when he could have gotten away with a Confundus Charm, but those days were long gone. He took up a faster pace, trying to avoid contact with the stream of people walking towards him. He crossed the street and he noticed that she was still following him, without a word.

He rushed down a staircase leading to an Underground station. He had never set foot in any other then King's Cross but it couldn't be difficult to find his way, he thought. And he would definitely loose that persistent Muggle girl in the crowd. He walked towards the ports and entered them with more confidence than he felt. The doors didn't open for him. Frustrated, he took a step back and tried again.

"You need a ticket. Use mine." She was standing right behind him, he was trapped. With difficulty, he turned around in the tight space available, to face her. She looked at him with a smile on her face. "Not used to public transport, are you?"

He took a step towards her and to his pleasure she backed away. Impatient Muggles, trying to pass through, were forming a line behind her. An evil look at them was enough to make them leave.

He didn't understand why she didn't go. What did she want from him! "My life is none of your concern, miss." He stated with all the arrogance he could gather. "You would be wise to leave me alone."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat? As in, if I'm not leaving you by yourself to wallow, you might beat me with your walking stick?" She pointed at it, seemingly confident, but he noticed her nervously plucking the side of her shirt. He smiled dangerously as he moved his face close to hers. "Go!" he whispered. She swallowed and something in her eyes flickered, but she didn't move. He was still trapped in the port and this annoyed him enormously. A rush of anger came over him and he yelled at her.

"I hate you! I hate you Muggles! With all your Muggle things and your ignorant Muggle lives! Now let me out!" He had lifted his cane and it sparked as it was channeling his anger.

Guards were coming their way and one of them was talking through a box in his hand. They looked as if they meant business. Wendy took his hand and started running towards the exit. Since he didn't want to get in trouble with Muggle authorities, he came along. They ran up the stairs an turned right, towards the Ministry. He knew they weren't followed any longer, but they kept running still. It felt good to run without thinking. The adrenaline made him forget about the crappy life he had. They ran for a couple of blocks before she stopped. Softly panting, she leaned to the door.

"We've come to a point where there are two options left." She said with a devious smile. Little pearls of sweat were finding their way down her face. He considered the options. He could leave. Walk away and never think of the past hour again. But there was something in her eyes that made him curious. Was she not afraid? Was she not wondering about the sparks coming out of his stick? What was her motive to take him with her? He figured that the only way to get answers was by coming up with her. He gave her a short nod, and looked at the door. She opened it and took his hand to lead him upstairs.

They didn't say a word as they entered her living room. He looked around the small apartment and wondered how someone could live like this.

She looked nervous, he thought. It didn't surprise him. Even though she seemed spontaneous and outgoing, she didn't seem the type of girl that took strangers up for instant pleasure. She looked up at him with such intensity though, that he could feel his body responding. He took a step closer, not averting his eyes from hers.

She looked away and played with her hands. "Would you like something to drink?" Her voice sounded thick from emotion. He thought he'd better give her some more time. She wanted it, she would not have invited him up otherwise. And now he wanted it too. He was certain it would make him feel better. At least for a while, and that was all he could ask for. He smiled at her. "I wouldn't mind some more coffee, please."

He caught a flicker of surprise before she turned to the kitchen to make the coffee he requested. He sat down on the small sofa. He thought of Narcissa and wondered what she would be doing. Where she was. He hadn't seen her in weeks. One morning he'd woken up and all her personal belongings had gone. At first he had kid himself into thinking that she would come back. That the absence of a note was a good sign. But as time passed by, the truth started to kick in.

He had visited his son from whom he had alienated years ago. He had hoped that Draco would tell him more about Narcissa's where abouts. It had been an humiliating experience. Draco had sat in front of him, listened to his pleads, but was unwilling to give him any information. Part of Lucius admired his sons' attitude. He reminded him of himself in his younger years.

He now had lost everything he ever cared for and had to find a way to get back in the game of life. His eyes lingered on a photograph on the fireplace. A young Wendy was posing with her parents, all of them happily smiling up to the camera. The adults somehow seemed familiar to him. He was about to get up to take a closer look, when the older version of the girl in the picture entered again, holding two cups of coffee.

She followed his eye as she put the cups in front of them. "I still miss them." She said wit ha sad smile. He searched her face. "Are they .. ?"

She looked away and sat down, rearranging the cushions in the sofa. Then she looked back up at him. He could see that she was trying to hide her feelings.

"Yes, they are."

He nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that." He tried to comfort her with a smile and he wasn't sure whether he did it because he cared or for more selfish reasons. Knowing himself though, he suspected the latter.

Tears appeared in her eyes and she wiped them away impatiently, but they kept coming. He moved closer and gently took her face in his hands. With his thumbs, he softly wiped away her tears. She let him. Their eyes locked and he felt drawn to her in a way he had not been drawn to someone in a long time. He slowly moved his head towards hers, giving her time to pull away. His lips found hers.

Lucius didn't want to rush this, especially since she had just been crying. He tenderly brushed his lips over hers, taking the time to get to know the sweetness of her mouth. He heard her sigh before she hungrily answered his kiss. He gave in and his kiss became more passionate. He felt his instincts taking over.

Suddenly he felt something hard pushing to his stomach. She pulled away. At first he smiled at her, thinking she was going to undress herself. But her face was telling him he was wrong.

He looked down and saw that she had pulled a knife on him. He looked up, confused.

"Don't you remember!" she exclaimed in a shaking voice. "It was you who killed them!" Her face, her emotion, it was more than he could handle right that moment. "Remind me .." he said carefully.

Her lips were shaking and she took a moment to consider if she would tell him or not.

"Nine years ago, my parents and I were taking a shortcut home after visiting their friends, when we heard noises coming from a side street. My father, always the hero, turned into that direction and my mother followed him, telling me to stay behind. Which of course I didn't." He felt the knife being pushed in deeper. He pulled his stomach in to leave more space before he'd get staked.

"Two men were torturing another who was begging for mercy. The strange thing was that they didn't even touch him, they were just pointing a stick at him." Her eyes lingered towards his cane. "My father tried to help the man but was pushed aside. One of the men, you .." she looked at him with a bitter smile, ".. saw my mother and invited her to come closer. She didn't want to, I could see that, but you pointed your stick and she came. You made them kneel in front of you."

He closed his eyes, ashamed of the memory. "I made Taylor choose which of the Muggles he'd safe."

"Muggle lover, that's what you called him when he pointed at my mother."

Lucius felt disgusted with himself. "And I killed her."

"My father .." He could hear her crying. "He didn't even have time to get up to attack you .. you killed him .. as if he were .." "A bug." He opened his eyes and was surprised not to meet hatred in hers. Tears were running down her face and something broke inside of him.

"I've tried to find you for years. Last year I saw you on Leicester Square for the first time and I shadowed you. Today felt like it was time for my revenge."

She pushed the knife in deeper and he felt his skin tear. It stung painfully and he held his breath.

He heard her sob. She looked confused. "I wanted to kill you for years. You aren't human .. You don't deserve to live .. And yet I can't do it."

He felt her pain. He felt the pain of all the people he had killed. She started to pull the knife out and in an impulse he grabbed her hand.

Her eyes grew big when he pushed the knife in his stomach in one quick move.

He felt an excruciating pain as the warm blood spouted over their hands. Her lips moved but he couldn't hear her words. He tried to concentrate.

".. go to a hospital!" There was panic in her voice. He shook his head. She tried to pull the knife out but it was stuck. He felt dizzy, light headed. He looked down at the quickly growing red stain, unable to grasp that it really was his blood, that it really was his life that was ending. He felt weaker by the second, he must have cut through his artery, he thought. He fell back on the sofa, hoping this would make the pain more bearable. She bend over him and he saw her quivering.

He looked up at his hand touching her face. His fingers left a red trail on her cheek. For some reason he thought that was very funny, but he couldn't laugh, he was too tired.

Gently, she took his face in her hands. He could feel her tears dripping down on his face as his spirit left his body.

"Why?" she whispered.

He tried to smile. How could he explain that he did it for her. That he did it for Narcissa, for Draco? It should make them all feel better when the man who had caused them so much grieve would be no more. With his last strengths he uttered:

"Call it .. Malfoy manners .."

And it became dark.