Lucissa FanFiction

Mine

"Mine!"

A furious eleven-month-old Lucius Malfoy seized the shining silver rattle from the elf that had pried the thing from his fingers in an attempt to feed him. The child stared at the creature with a stubborn sort of outrage, and promptly whacked it over top of its head.

"Bad," he stated emphatically, shaking the toy in a childishly superior manner. "Mine," he repeated in explanation. The elf stared at the boy, not yet a toddler, with an expression akin to shock. Lucius held the toy in both of his chubby hands, eyes falling upon the food that Fiddy had been trying to administer. Straightening his little spine, he opened his mouth and waited patiently.

"That's mine, give it back!" bellowed the six-year-old blonde, sprinting across the grounds of the Malfoy Manor after his dreadful cousin, Cepheus Burke. The boy, older by three years, dashed along on much lengthier legs, laughing raucously. Above his held, he clutched Lucius's Cleansweep Four tightly, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Can't catch me!" he sang in the obnoxious tone that only truly spoiled children are able to manage. Lucius skidded to a halt, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers trembled with anger, and he glared at Cepheus with unveiled animosity.

"Stop!" he shouted forcefully. Much to his surprise, the other boy froze midstep, stood suspended for a moment, and then crashed to the grassy ground. Lucius stolled over, quite composed now, and plucked the broomstick from his cousin's frozen fingers.

"That's mine," he announced calmly, though his gray eyes were still malevolent. Cepheus gawked up at him, though his facial muscles were frozen in a misplaced grin. Squaring his shoulders in a dignified manner, he turned on one heel and marched off.

"You fool, get up, that seat belongs to me," Lucius snarled, leveling the first year girl with an icy glare. As a second year student, he claimed seniority over all younger Slytherins- this slip of a girl was no exception. She stared back up at him unblinkingly.

"I don't see your name on it." The tart, childish reply had little effect on him.

"It's mine," he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest, which had begun to broaden thanks to his hours spent training for Quidditch. She, on the other hand, was far too skinny. Her boney elbows and knobby knees were apparent even through the neatly tailored robes she wore.

The girls rose slowly, blue eyes flashing. "What's you're name?" she demanded unexpectedly.

"Lucius Malfoy. What's yours?"

"Narcissa Black," she replied imperiously. "And I don't like you very much, Lucius Malfoy." With that, she flounced away.

Lucius supposed he should feel victorious, but there was a strangely defeated feeling in the pit of his stomach as he sank into the armchair.

"It's mine," a third year Lucius announced smugly. "Do you like it?"
Eyes glazed with boredom, Narcissa Black stared across the table at the Nimbus 1000 Lucius was proudly displaying. He noticed that while his other housemates squealed with envy, she turned away for another serving of pumpkin juice.

Stupid girl. She was horribly vain, and he didn't think the passing summer had much improved her gangly looks, either; she was still quite skinny; taller, though. Not nearly as attrative, he assured himself, as the fourth year girl who clung eagerly to his shoulder, admiring his new broom. Certainly not.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The deep voice startled Narcissa, but the large hand that slammed the cover of the book she'd been reading shut cause her to gasp in alarm, not in small part due to the fact that her slim, white fingers remained within the pages.