Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

reynardo prompted me with Lucius Malfoy and Petunia Dursley: Apple blossom, carpet, aching.

Relative Solitude (G; Lucius, Marge, Petunia; 325 words): The desire to be out of the presence of unwanted family is one which wizards and Muggles share.

Lucius despised Muggle London as being full of filth and noise, but then, wizards were loud, too, and the city was not without its advantages. Chief among these was Kew Gardens.

Wizards, Lucius thought, and not for the first time, must have a hand in the care of this place.

He'd come, despite an aching head, to see the early bloom of the Hyacinthoides non-scripta. In spring, bluebells created a gorgeous carpet of colour amidst winter's decaying leavings, and the ones at Kew Gardens, in this year of two thousand eleven, had sprung up with record impatience to celebrate the season.

"The scent's nothing to apple blossom," a harsh-voiced woman said.

Thinking that she was addressing him, Lucius turned to see a rotund, florid-faced harpy of a woman standing with a tidy-looking blonde. The harpy didn't notice his presence, but the blonde did; she flushed as if in silent apology for her companion as he caught her eye. In a rare burst of sympathy, Lucius nodded to her. She favoured him with a tight smile and turned away.

"I think they're lovely," she told her companion, "and did you know, Marge? Bluebell glue was once used in book-binding."

"Books! Books? I'm starving and you're nattering on about books? Really, Petunia."

"Perhaps you should join Vernon and Dudley for tea, dear. I'll be along presently."

"At last, some consideration! It's been hours, your dragging me about."

Lucius repressed a desire to put an arrow in the harpy's ample buttocks and smirked at the thought, which was no doubt inspired by his knowledge that "bluebell glue" had also once been used to affix flights to the shafts of arrows.

"And you've been very good to accompany me, but—"

"Yes, well," said the harpy, glancing in Lucius' direction, "just see you're careful. One never knows in what company one might find oneself in public."

As the awful woman left her, the blonde, Petunia, relaxed visibly and returned to her silent contemplation of the bluebells. She didn't look at him again, but Lucius wasn't offended. Muggle though she was, his inadvertent companion was obviously as plagued by unwanted family as he, himself, was, and given that he'd fled his future son-in-law's company, he didn't begrudge Petunia her relative solitude.


( 9 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 17th, 2012 08:07 pm (UTC)
Nice one. I like the fact that you left Lucius and Petunia not knowing anything about each other apart from their shared appreciation of the flowers.
Apr. 17th, 2012 08:41 pm (UTC)
I'm with DG on this. A wonderful chance encounter that speaks volumes in the silence.

And of course they'd be horrified if they knew who the other was. Well done!
Apr. 19th, 2012 07:34 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I enjoyed answering this prompt. :D
Apr. 19th, 2012 07:33 pm (UTC)
Thanks. :D

This was an interesting prompt to work from.
Apr. 18th, 2012 02:20 am (UTC)
What a unique glimpse into these two characters. I never think of either one of them being wearied by their own families, but it actually makes sense. And the communing over flowers is an especially nice touch.
Apr. 19th, 2012 07:34 pm (UTC)
Oh, thanks so much! :D
Apr. 21st, 2012 03:39 am (UTC)
Serious Fangirl Squeeeeeee-ing
User reynardo referenced to your post from Serious Fangirl Squeeeeeee-ing saying: [...] the ones she wrote from my prompts are: Relative Solitude (G; Lucius, Marge, Petunia; 325 words) [...]
Apr. 21st, 2012 04:50 am (UTC)
This is great - an unexpected connection between Lucius and Petunia. Excellent use of the prompts.
Apr. 22nd, 2012 12:06 am (UTC)
Oh, thank you so much! :D
( 9 comments — Leave a comment )