He really did love this place. He found himself returning to it several times over the course of his stay in this new world. The balcony was as it always had been: beautiful, clear, and airy. He stood as he always stood, staring out into eternity. He was waiting for the stars, for their metamorphosis. He was waiting for the light. Then, just as the thought crossed his mind, as if he commanded the cosmos, the stars started to change. Twisting and blending into a magnificent light, then they split apart into 4 wonderous beams. He waited. He was hoping that the dream would progress this time. Usually, the vision gave him new little clues with each visit to this ethereal dreamscape but lately, it seemed to always stop as the stars banded together then split apart. He resented this fact terribly as he was so eager to see how this ended, IF it ended. And yet, all he was left with was blinding lights. Curiously, the brightness of the beams didn't hurt his eyes this time, no not this time. The beams locked his eyes into it and as he stared, he felt something like a god. As if the stars bended to his will, as if everything bended to his will.
Still, it was just the beams. No progression. He felt horribly frustrated but he didn't want to leave. So he stayed and he stared and he waited. Then, he saw it. He squinted and his heart felt as if it were racing and yet deathly still. Gods don't have heartbeats.
He squinted into the four lights of the endless horizon and he took in a breath. There was something in them. Something…moving. What was it?! He never really got to see what they were! He was adamant this time. He would not leave this place until he saw what it was. He extended his hand out into the horizon, as if beckoning it to reveal its secrets. His eyes locked on the beams. Something was moving…not just moving…running. Running towards him.
Running towards their God.
Aang snapped up from his dream and found himself laying against APPA deep in the apple orchard. His vision blurred as he tried to regain his bearings and he found himself furious with the fact that we was dragged back to this mundane world when he was on the precipice witnessing something infinitely more extraordinary. Honestly, could NO ONE in this world leave a man alone when he was sleeping?
Aang grumpily turned his head to see who the preposterously rude person was who would dare to wake a sleeping man. Finally, his vision cleared and he was shocked to see Neville looking at him in horror.
"Neville?" Aang muttered, rubbing his eyes as if trying to rule out the possibility that Neville was nothing more than an apparition.
Neville stood, mouth agape, an apple tart fell from his hands to the ground with a crumpled thud.
"Eh…what's up? What are you doing at the Burrow?" Aang said, somewhat concerned that Neville was about to tell him that there had been some kind of attack and the world had ended.
"You…you were glowing." Neville muttered. His hands covered his mouth as if he had just uttered something blasphemous.
Aang cocked his head to the side. He had forgotten…sometimes the dream made him glow. "Eh…yea. I do that sometimes."
Neville looked dumbfounded. His breathing turned shallow. "Do…DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE SOMETIMES?!"
Aang reeled back at Neville's sudden screeching.
"PEOPLE SEEING WITH THEIR FEET, DOING MAGIC WITH NO WANDS, WALKING AROUND WITH SWORDS- LIKE REAL. BLOODY. SAMURAI. SWORDS. AND NOW WE'VE GOT GLOWING! GLOWING?!" Neville was panting, he started to sweat. "WHAT THE HELL IS AN UNAGI! WHY HASN'T ANYONE EXPLAINED THAT YET?! SOKKA JUST KEEPS SAYING IT! WHAT THE HELL IS IT?!"
Aang hopped to his feet and took half a stance. "Neville, calm down!"
Neville closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry…just came back from seeing my parents and…well, sometimes it gets to me."
"Uh…it gets to you?" Aang said, his stance slackening.
"Eh…yea. They're not well. So…why are you glowing?" Neville said quickly.
Aang would be a fool if he didn't notice how quickly Neville changed the subject…but sometimes, a man's business is his business. Especially when it comes to families. He dropped it. "Well…the avatar is the connection between the physical and spiritual worlds."
"Right." Neville nodded, he knew that much from previous conversations.
"The avatar is born and reborn. I've lived a thousand lives and a thousand lifetimes. The glow is my past lives, connecting with me from the spirit world."
"Like…reincarnation. Reincarnation is…real?" Neville muttered and his voice sounded slightly choked.
Aang was thoughtful. "Well…I don't know really. I mean, I know it's real for me but…I'm not so sure if it's real for everyone else." Aang muttered. "The Avatar is the only known person who reincarnates in my world."
Neville looked extremely pensive. He sighed and yet, it wasn't sad. "Well, at this point in my life, with all the things I've seen, I'm fairly certain that anything is possible."
Aang nodded, drifting into a deeper contemplation of life after death and whether death was truly real or just a transition, a self-sustaining cycle. Perhaps, in life, the only thing that was truly impossible is death.
"AANG!" Neville shouted.
"Huh." Aang muttered dreamily.
Neville shook his head. "So…is that what you were doing just now? Connecting with your… past lives?"
Aang shook his head. "No…I was dreaming."
Neville laughed a bit. "That must be annoying, sleep glowing. Imagine how much your wife will hate you for that."
Aang's thoughts immediately turned to Katara. Katara as his wife. Katara sharing a bed with him. He blushed profusely. Spirits, he was only 13…almost 14. Still, an embarrassingly familiar ache started to rise in him. He tried to close his mind to the impurity of it all.
Neville narrowed his eyes at the boy and, as a fellow bloke, smirked as he saw the familiar signs of teenage hormones starting to kick in. Then his face contorted, as he definitely didn't want to be thinking about the hormones of other boys. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, we're all headed to Luna's house."
Aang rubbed the back of his neck as if that would alleviate his embarrassment. "Oh yea, the Rook."
"What?" Neville inquired.
"Isn't Luna's house called The Rook? Everyone keeps calling it that." Aang replied non-chalantly.
Neville was thoughtful for a moment. "I've never heard them call it that or at least I haven't noticed…although I can see why they would…hmm, I guess there are a lot of things I don't know about."
And yet, even as Neville said it, he didn't sound jealous or upset. Neville had, really, been the most reasonable and calm of the whole group since Team Avatar's arrival into this new world. Aang briefly wondered if Neville had always been the level headed one of the group. After all, even if everyone's outbursts were the product of years of war, didn't Neville endure that war with them? Why was he able to keep it together?
"Also…Sokka and I…well…well you know how the group has been kind of…mad lately?" Neville spluttered.
Aang nodded slowly.
"Well…Sokka and I…we were planning on having a kind of…intervention, if you will. Try to get everyone…talking and such." Neville continued.
Aang popped his head up suddenly, "Right! Like Clavicula is doing!"
Neville cocked his head to the side." Clavicula? Have you all had your appointments then? He's a decent bloke…I mean, he seems a bit inhuman of course…but decent." He finished quite matter-of-factly.
"Oh, did you meet with him too?" Aang said, genuinely interested.
Neville started to wring his hands. "Eh…I dunno, it was nothing. Anyway, would you be in for a little…Team Avapotter bonding time?"
Aang was thoughtful. "Well, Im good with anything that brings peace…just…maybe don't call it that in front of Zuko."
Neville chuckled nervously. "Alright, well we should probably head up."
Aang looked nervous. "Uh…yea. Just give me a sec, I want to check on Appa's paw."
"Sure." Neville uttered before turning abruptly and leaving.
Aang watched Neville go. He needed to think. He was glowing again. Why was he glowing? Was it the Avatar state? Then again, COULD it be the avatar state? Hadn't Hermione just told them that they may be losing their bending? If that happened, would Aang lose his connection to the spirit world? Was the connection tied to bending? So many impossible questions…so many unreachable conclusions.
As it turns out, in this reality, he was far from a God.
Zuko sat in the guest room of Malfoy Manor. He had just witnessed Draco vomit all over himself as he screamed for Zuko to leave that horrible room. Zuko felt terrible for wandering in places where he shouldn't have but…he didn't. Zuko took orders from no one. Clearly, this boy was hiding something far worse than Zuko had ever realized. That room had seen madness, destruction, and—clearly-shame. Yet, it was left untouched. As if it was some kind of terrible shrine to an atrocity. Zuko had come to think of Draco as somewhat of an equal in the realm of tortured pasts. Still, Draco's past seemed far more dreadful than the brief story Draco had desperately poured out in their first night together and the snippets of conversation they had participated in since. Draco was hiding something, he was lying, had been lying. Zuko wasn't sure why he was so convinced that Draco had been lying. He wasn't even sure what Draco was lying about or what he was trying to cover up…but he just…knew. He could just…tell. He had never been particularly great at uncovering the intentions of others and, usually, someone paid the price for his lack for foresight. Not this time. Zuko would find out what the boy was hiding, he would unravel his lies, he was certain. He knew, he always knew.
Zuko ran over a course of action in his mind. He would stay friendly with the boy, after all, Zuko didn't particularly dislike Draco—but he abhorred lies. He must be careful, patient. He felt like Azula, and the idea both disgusted him yet inflated his confidence. He looked up at the clock, the big hand was on 12, the little hand on 6. Zuko scrunched his face and tried to remember how Sokka had explained the clock to him.
It was six o'clock, sunset. That was usually the time they served dinner at that school they were quasi-living at. Did the same apply here? Was dinner served the same time everywhere?
Then the doors swung open. Draco stood in them, looking highly irritated and yet severely disinterested. "Here." Draco uttered as he threw robes at Zuko as if he was a diseased wretch.
Zuko caught them easily but was offended at Draco's tone. As if he should feel guilty about stumbling onto to his terrible little secret. Zuko took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He must stay friendly. Be patient.
"Thank you." Zuko grinded out.
Draco looked at him critically. "Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Do not be late."
Draco left the room without another word.
Zuko wanted to kick him in the teeth for his rudeness but knew better of it. He looked around the guest room. It was rather large and yet the room only held a few pieces of furniture. As if the host were trying to convey that the guest was being allowed to stay here begrudgingly. He spied a door at the other end of the giant room. He walked towards it and opened it slowly. If he had learned one thing about Malfoy Manor, it was that closed doors were dangerous.
The door creaked open to reveal a dusty bathroom. It looked, as so many things did in this house, to have once been beautiful but was slowly falling victim to neglect. Honestly, what were house elves for anyway? The ones at Hogwarts seemed to be on the ball, but the one here seemed to be terribly incompetent.
Zuko turned and saw a balcony at the other end of the room. He approached it and threw the glass doors open, temporarily shocked by the cold December breeze. He stepped out onto the ledge and looked around before quickly shooting a small blast of fire from his nostrils, breath of fire. Yet he was still fairly cold. He frowned in mild confusion. This place must be getting to him.
He surveyed the grounds of the Malfoy estate. The grass was fairly long, no one had cut it in ages. The shrubbery was becoming wild in its neglect. Zuko squinted his eyes, in the distance there seemed to be a bird like creature, a bird like he had never seen, cuddling itself in the cold. Yet, it looked as bland as its surroundings. It looked up towards him and Zuko found himself embarrassed as if he thought the bird would think he was spying on it. Zuko rolled his eyes at himself. Still, he felt bad for the creature. It was far too cold for an animal to be outside. He resolved that he would find a way to get it into some shelter if he had the time. Zuko smirked at himself, when had he become so sentimental?
He turned quickly and entered the guest room, closing the doors behind him. He picked up the robes, sighed, and prepared himself for dinner.
Draco sat impatiently in the dining room. No one had arrived yet. Dinner would begin at 6, and so help him, he would eat without them if he had to. He sat back into the seat and closed his eyes. This day was trying. Mother had dropped a bomb on him. Zuko, the idiot, couldn't seem to stay out of his business. How dare he walk into that Drawing Room, as if he had the right?! How dare his mother try to pull this emotional bullshit on him. Sentiment. For once, could things just be the way they used to be? Was no place the same anymore? Was there no place where he could find solitude from his past?
Was there no place left to hide?
Draco's lips trembled ever so slightly when he heard footsteps. He turned to see Mother, entering the room a bit sheepishly. She had tidied herself up somewhat but she was far from the perfection of a carefully crafted Malfoy.
She smiled weakly at him and he turned away from her, a painful lump rising in his throat. He heard her make a tiny squeak before she took her place opposite of him at the long table. Draco had taken the seat normally reserved for his father. He was the man of the house now. He would behave like a Malfoy.
The Last Malfoy.
Another set of footsteps were approaching. Draco looked up at the clock, 2 minutes after 6. Draco ground his teeth. Had he not JUST told him not to be late? Was there NO instruction that Zuko could understand? Draco stood, ready to give Zuko a piece of his mind. He straightened his robes carefully and turned to face Zuko at the door.
As his eyes hit the doorframe, Draco stopped immediately. From across the room, a glass shattered on the floor, Narcissa was sitting frozen with her hand still raised even as the glass had long fallen from her bony fingers.
Draco took half a step back, he couldn't breath. He couldn't think. He couldn't fathom what he was seeing.
"I believe that is my chair, Draco."
Draco's lips trembled, he didn't respond.
He stepped into the room and inspected the boy in front of him, stopping at his eyes.
After a year of wretched solidarity and putrid existence, Lucius Malfoy finally laid eyes on his heir.
Zuko wandered the downstairs. He was livid. If Draco had wanted him to be on time for dinner PERHAPS he should have told him where the hell the dining room was. This house was like the most depressing labyrinth in the world. Finally, Zuko eyed light coming from open double doors. He smelled food wafting from its general direction. He walked quickly. He was starving. He curved his fingers around the doorway and entered the room. There was food on the table but no one seemed to be eating. Had they been waiting for him? That was unfortunate. Zuko straightened out the sleek black robes he wore as best he could and started to enter the room.
He saw Draco sitting halfway down the table, staring at a plate that he, apparently, hadn't touched. He saw a women sitting at the far end of the table who, Zuko assumed, was Draco's mother. Zuko stopped abruptly as he noticed the scraggly white blond locks of another man in the chair closest to where Zuko was standing, the man's back facing him.
Were they having guests for dinner? Zuko sucked in a breath and made his way to the table. As he passed the man, he almost cringed. He looked like hell. Disheveled, matted hair, dirty face, dusty clothes. And yet, as the man turned his gaze to him, he seemed to eye Zuko with a sense of standard judgment.
The man arched an eyebrow. Zuko quickly realized he was staring and bowed to him, as was customary in the Firenation. Zuko quickly cursed himself, remembering that people don't bow like that in this world.
Yet the man seemed slightly pleased. He nodded back to him. Zuko turned, walking a bit down the table until he reached the seat across from Draco. He turned slightly and bowed to the woman but she was far too busy staring at the man at the opposite end of the table, her face held horror but not the kind of horror that reflects fear or disgust, this horror was totally different.
Zuko bowed to Draco, mostly to be consistent, before sitting at the table. Draco didn't look at him. Draco didn't move. Draco just stared at his plate.
Then the man cleared his throat. "Well, I see we have guests this evening. I apologize for my appearance but, as I'm sure you know, I have been…absent from the civilized world for a grievous amount of time."
Zuko looked at the man in confusion. He didn't even know who this man was, let alone his backstory or contemporary circumstances. He placed his hands in his lap and nodded slowly, his eyes darting to Draco, begging for some kind of explanation.
Draco sat silently, stock still, staring at his plate.
Zuko sighed. It looked like he would have to…engage the man in conversation.
"Eh…I apologize…I'm afraid I…" Zuko mouth fell open mid-sentence. The painting. The painting in the grand entrance. The man, was…was this him? It looked like him but, like the rest of this house, he looked dreadfully neglected. His face had sunken in, complete with dark circles around his eyes. His hair was dirty and matted, his clothes were moth eaten. Zuko's eyes narrowed. It was him. Zuko never forgot a face, no matter how much it had changed, Lord knows that Zuko understood the extent to which a face could be changed. Zuko turned to the man, who seemed to be irritated at his sudden silence. Zuko looked at the table. How could this be? The very first day they came to Hogwarts, Ron had let slip that Draco's father was in prison. The very first night they spent together, Draco had told him his father was imprisoned for his crimes. Yet, here he was, sitting at the table. Was this another one of Draco's lies? Is this what he was covering up? Did this man have something to do with the Drawing Room?
But as soon as Zuko raised his head to look accusingly at Draco, he knew that his line of reasoning was incorrect. Draco looked utterly flummoxed. He stared at his plate like he had no idea whether this was real or an illusion. He looked afraid.
Zuko turned back to the man, who looked at him rather critically.
"What is your name, boy?" The man said. He said it as if he was talking to a simpleton.
Zuko was taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. His tone insulted him. Zuko smirked. "Lee."
"Lee? Is that all then? Lee?" The man drawled.
Zuko sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. "What's your name, sir?" He sneered.
The man's eyes widened. He was angered by Zuko's tone, no doubt, but his eyes also held confusion. The man quickly composed himself.
"I…am Lucius Malfoy. Master of the House of Malfoy. And what family, may I ask, do you belong to?" Lucius drawled.
"You wouldn't know it. I'm not from the area. Just visiting." Zuko said in a finite fashion.
Lucius sat back in his chair as if disgusted. "Draco, you've brought a…foreigner to our home."
Draco looked up and turned slowly towards his father. Yet his eyes didn't hold fear. They held anger. He didn't speak.
Lucius chuckled, he studied the foreigner for a bit as if he was trying to decide whether he should ask the question that was of real importance. Afterall, he had just spent the last several months convincing the Ministry that he had changed his ways, they were fools to have taken the bait so easily. He decided a foreigner had no power over him, was no threat to him. He would ask. He would demand…and he would do so proudly. He wouldn't forget and the world would remember again soon enough. "Tell me boy, are you pureblood?"
"Lucius!" Narcissa said, yet she seemed shocked she had said anything at all.
"I'm just asking a simple question. The war may be over but that is no reason to forget the…CRITICAL components of our culture, to forget the TRUE ways." Lucius said. Suddenly, Drooples appeared, pouring a glass of mead into Lucius's cup with a shaking hand. He looked at Lucius with fear in his eyes.
"Away with you." Lucius said, never looking the old house elf in the eye. It was below him. He wouldn't forget the TRUE ways. "Well? Do you not understand my question?"
Zuko stared at the terrified house elf as it shuffled out of the room. He looked towards Draco, Draco looked at the house elf with a sad tenderness.
Anger started to bubble in Zuko. He didn't like this man. This man reminded him of his father. "We don't have…blood statuses in my culture."
Lucius arched an eyebrow. "Well…one cannot expect all the world to appreciate the importance of lineage."
"Excuse me?" Zuko started angrily.
"Have you learned nothing?" A voice whispered. Zuko looked up to see a shaking, enraged Draco staring at his father.
"Don't mumble Draco. Mind your tongue child." Lucius said. "HOUSE ELF. WHERE ARE MY BISCUITS?!"
Draco lost it, he slammed his fist down on the table. "HIS NAME IS DROOPLES!"
Lucius turned to Draco, a dumbfounded expression crossing his face, which was quickly replaced with one of anger. "Do not forget with whom you speak."
Draco rose slowly from his chair. "I suggest you do the same, father."
Lucius arched an eyebrow. Then rose as well. "I SPEAK with a CHILD who has lost his wits!"
"MY wits?!" Draco said. Zuko looked back and forth at the two.
"You've always been slow on the uptake, boy." Lucius hissed. "You speak as if you have forgotten who I am, as if you have forgotten your upbringing!"
"MY UPBRINGING?! TELL ME, FATHER, WHAT EXACTLY HAS MY UPBRINGING DONE FOR ME? HOW, EXACTLY, HAS YOUR UPBRINGING HELPED ME?!" Draco yelled.
"STOP whining, you insolent little fool!" Lucius whispered heatedly. " I have done NOTHING but provide you with the very best! I expect MY son to not let contemporary events cloud his view of the bigger picture!"
"OH HOW WONDERFUL! THIS EXISTENCE THAT YOU HAVE PROVIDED FOR ME HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT THE VERY BEST! YES, I LOVED HAVING THE DARK LORD SQUAT IN MY HOUSE. I LOVED WATCHING HIM TORTURE MY MOTHER, I LOVED BEING FORCED TO TORTURE OTHERS AT HIS COMMAND. I LOVE BEING A SOCIETAL PARIAH BECAUSE OF YOUR FLAWED CONCEPT OF THE BIGGER PICTURE! YOU DID THIS TO ME FATHER!"
"I have done NOTHING but teach you how to be a MAN. If you feel as though you have been wronged, perhaps you should blame it on your miserable failure to live up to the expectations I have set for you!" Lucius seethed.
"WHAT expectations!" Draco shouted.
"I come home to a disfigured foreigner in my house! A foreigner with no knowledge of blood lineage. No knowledge of proper behavior! You bring a wretched, decrepit, filthy house elf to care for the estate that I have provided you. I have suffered for you! I tried to save you at the Battle of Hogwarts-" Lucius was cut off.
"SAVE ME?! IT WAS MOTHER WHO SAVED ME! IT WAS YOUR FOOLISH DECISIONS THAT PUT ME IN DANGER IN THE FIRST PLACE! YOU DIDN'T PROVIDE SHIT! I PROVIDE FAAAAATHER! FOR THE LAST YEAR I HAVE TENDED TO YOUR HOLDINGS, I HAVE TAKEN CARE OF YOUR WIFE! THE ONLY EXAMPLE YOU HAVE SET IS HOW TO GROVEL AT THE FEET OF MORE POWERFUL MEN!" Draco yelled, a tear running down his face. All these years, all this time, he thought he understood how the world worked. He trusted the word of his father, he allowed superficial things like money and gifts to sway his judgment of right and wrong. But more often than not, right and wrong is taught in far crueler ways. He knew this now, he hated that he knew it. He hated that he had been so blind, so stupid. He hated the fool he had been made into. "You have some nerve talking about saving…the things I had to do to protect us. The people I had to hurt so that the Dark Lord wouldn't turn his wand on Mother…on YOU. All the people I watched die before my eyes…and you allowed it. You are the fool."
Lucius pulled out his wand.
Lucius's wand flew from his hand, and into the hand of Narcissa Malfoy. Who held her wand trained at his heart.
"You will not touch my child, Lucius." Narcissa whispered in quiet rage.
"Narcissa! Have you forgotten yourself?" Lucius hissed.
"TIMES HAVE CHANGED, LUCIUS! BLOOD DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE! I RISKED TOO MUCH IN THAT DARK FOREST TO HAVE YOU DESTROY IT! WHAT BLOODY WORLD HAVE YOU CREATED IN YOUR HEAD THAT COULD MAKE YOU THINK THAT THINGS WILL GO BACK TO THE WAY THEY WERE! THAT YOU COULD CONTINUE TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS! WE HAVE FAILED OUR SON LUCIUS!" Narcissa yelled, and she fell shaking to her seat. "I have failed him…"
A crack resounded around the room and Zuko jumped at it's boldness. The old house elf, Drooples, had appeared immediately at his mistress side with a calming draught. He stared murderously at Lucius, who would dare to upset his mistress, his reason for existence.
Draco and Zuko ran to her side as well.
"What…WHAT IS THIS SENTIMENT?! What has become of my house in my absence." Lucius yelled.
"This isn't your house anymore." Draco drawled, he took Lucius's wand from his mother's hand and threw it at Lucius, taking out his own. He walked slowly towards him. "I've had your holdings transferred to my name. I own your house now. I control your fortune. I am the MASTER of the House of Malfoy. YOU gave up your right to rule when you turned us into the puppets of the Dark Lord. For the last year, I have borne YOUR scorn, suffered YOUR retaliations, and lived in YOUR disgrace." Draco hissed calmly.
He looked Lucius in his horrified grey eyes. "You…you thief." Lucius whispered.
"I am not a thief. I am Draco Malfoy. I am the son you DAMNED. You stride in this house after A YEAR and think that you wield the same power you did before the war? You show no concern for the struggles your family has endured in your absence! NO concern for the misery your actions have created! I think your child and wife have been punished enough. But you? Your punishment HAS SCARCELY BEGUN!"
Zuko snapped his head at Draco. His words…exactly reminiscent of the words his father had uttered to him the moment before he tried to murder him. No…
Draco reeled back, preparing to utter his curse.
"NO!" Zuko yelled.
Draco turned to him sharply. Zuko saw fire in his eyes.
Zuko swallowed hard. "You are not a monster, Draco. You are not a fool. You are not him…and you are not...the... The Dark Lord."
Draco shook. His shaking head turning back to his horrified father, then to his crying mother. He looked at his own hands. He looked back at his father. "What have you done to me?" He whispered.
Narcissa was out of her chair so quickly it seemed like she was a dream. She wrapped her arms around her son. "Forgive me Draco. Forgive me for what I have done to you." She wept.
Lucius was shaking. "Weakness." He whispered. "Treachery." He raised his wand.
Just then a blast of fire blindsided Lucius. He reeled around to see Zuko, holding a wand in one hand, his other hand outstretched and falling to his side.
Zuko hated a man who fought with no honor. He bended so quickly he hardly had time to realize the mistake he had made. He pulled the wand he had, very carefully, attached to his belt and held it firm in his hand. He needed to give the illusion that what he just did was magic, but as he looked at Lucius, something told Zuko that he wasn't buying it.
"Get out." Narcissa whispered.
"Get out? OF MY OWN HOUSE?!" Lucius yelled.
"Haven't you heard?" Zuko uttered boldly. "This isn't your house anymore."
Lucius looked Zuko square in the eye, he seethed at the stranger's boldness, he seethed at the lack of respect he used to command. He glared deeply at the boy before leaving.
Zuko watched as the man strode out of the room. He walked like Draco.
And Zuko knew in that moment, that he had made a terrible mistake. He knew that this debacle was far from over.
Hey Kids. So...quicker upload this time. Yay? Lucius Malfoy. I learned on Pottermore SPOILER ALERT...I think that Lucius had struck a deal with the Ministry after the war that resulted in his release. END OF SPOILER When I saw that, the story needed to be changed to include him, which I thought would be interesting. I figured Lucius would come back one of two ways, either totally broken, or just as sly as ever. POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT AGAIN...if you havent been following Pottermore When I read how Lucius had gotten out and how it was the exact same way he got out after the first war END OF SPOILER, I figured that Lucius probably hadn't given up the old beliefs. So I took the second option and wrote him that way. But just because he stayed the same doesn't mean Draco did. I prefer that conclusion. Finally, Draco has some balls. I have written him as a fairly broken, desperate individual, which I feel like he would be. I feel like anyone on the wrong side of history, at his age, would come out of a war that way. So having the opportunity to portray Draco as brave is something I have been poking in throughout this story and something I enjoy doing. If this wasn't a crossover, my personal belief is that Draco would never have really spoken to the Golden Trio again (except in official capacities, assuming there is no Rose/Scorpius romance...I'm very subtlety plugging my Scor/Rose one shot by the way, read and review!) and would probably end up as haughty as Lucius but kinder in certain respects. In any case, I think Draco would learn from the war. So! Aang's dream returns again. Not much more info than the first dream, I wonder whhhyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Thanks to all who reviewed, Croatia especially. Next chapter we will explore some hardcore revelations at The Rook. That chapter is gonna be absolutely fun and difficult to write. I'm gonna answer the hell out of some questions. As always, thanks to Kate my Beta for doing what she is so good at. Thanks to all who favorite and fan. There are more than a hundred people who have alerted this, about a hundred who have faved. That makes me feel all warm in my heart cage. Ok Kids, gotta watch New Girl. Drop me a review, I do love the review. Thanks for continuing to hang in. As always. Later Kids.