Author's note: Happy New Year to all of you! I guess we start this year off with a Harry Potter oneshot :P Which turned out to be much longer than I expected *coughs*

Warnings: Lucius' pov; implied child abuse; takes place in 1986; some angst; persistent Draco

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Dedicated to: babyvfan. Not sure if it's as cute as you imagined, but nevertheless I hope you'll enjoy it!

More Powerful Than Magic

"Thank you again for your generous donation, Mister Malfoy," Minister Bagnold smiled thinly, offering her hand to shake that of the older blond wizard.

Lucius inclined his head and smiled affably. "I'm just doing my part to contribute to our society, Madam. No need to thank me."

They exchanged more superficial pleasantries before he offered one last curt nod and swept out of the Minister's office. The people he passed by on his way to the Atrium either nodded respectfully or gave him a wide berth, sometimes coupled with a foul look. He merely raised an eyebrow and smirked and had the satisfaction of seeing those people slink off, their faces sour with whatever retort they had to swallow.

It paid off to have quite some influence in the Ministry.

Two towering Christmas trees greeted him when the elevator opened, revealing the Atrium where wizards and witches hurried in and out of the Floo or conversed with each other in small groups. It was only the end of November but the Christmas spirit had clearly overtaken the Ministry already.

There was one fireplace free, an old witch just having gone through it and he took a pinch of Floo powder out of the jar, threw it in the merrily dancing flames and stated calmly, "Malfoy Manor."

Green surrounded him when he stepped into the flames, which licked at his robes and felt pleasantly warm, but didn't burn him, and there were flashes of rooms flickering in front of him: a cluttered attic; a living room where a couple was arguing loudly; a small room only containing one wooden chair; a kitchen where the door leading outside was open, revealing snow covered ground …

Two familiar royal blue arm chairs appeared and he calmly stepped out of the hearth; the flames crackling loudly for a few seconds, before they quietened down and the green bled away, leaving behind bright red mixed with gold.

He was home.

A house elf appeared to accept his robes, bowing deeply in greeting. "Welcome home, sir," the elf squeaked; his long, narrow nose nearly brushing the shining tiled floor.

"My family?" he inquired, studying his trousers critically. He nodded in satisfaction when he detected no soot particles left behind.

"Mistress is sittings with little Master in little Master's playroom," the elf replied; the flames in the hearth catching his large oak brown eyes.

Lucius cocked an eyebrow slightly and glanced at his watch – a gift from his grandfather when he turned of age. It was a quarter to eight; his meeting with the Minister had lasted longer than he had anticipated.

Without deigning to give the elf another look, he strode out of the foyer and crossed the large hallway. The manor was still devoid of Christmas decoration, but it wouldn't be long anymore before the elves would start decorating the place.

The majestic staircase – intricate designs carved into the bannister – gleamed in the soft light of the chandelier as he made his way up; his footsteps echoing as he ascended the marble steps.

White marble disappeared underneath an emerald carpet, muffling his footsteps, and he passed tapestries of majestic looking magical creatures, such as three unicorns peacefully grazing deep green grass and a manticore roaring at a large snake. The second floor had portraits of the Malfoy family and some of his ancestors greeted him respectfully while others dozed in their frames. He turned left and was instantly greeted by the animated voice of his seven year old son. He allowed himself a small smile before he smoothed out his expression and entered the large playroom where he found his wife seated on a pure white armchair, listening patiently to their son's story.

Narcissa looked up and her face softened a fraction when her gaze landed on him. "Good evening, dear," she greeted him, rising up from her chair to accept his kiss. "I assume the meeting went well?"

"Like expected," he replied dryly and turned around to address Draco, who was hastily getting back on his feet, his face lightning up at the sight of his father. "Shouldn't you be preparing for bed, Draco?"

The blond boy flushed guiltily, putting his hands behind his back. "Yes, father. I was just telling mother something."

"And what was this something?"

The sudden glint of excitement in his son's grey eyes filled him with apprehension. "About Harry Potter, father! The papers say they're going to look for him again. Won't it be amazing if they find him?"

Of course. Lucius didn't even need to turn around to know his wife was giving him a pointed look and he resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

Ever since he heard the story of how Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord six years ago, Draco had become obsessed with the notion of the boy. He insisted on looking through every book that contained even the slightest mention of the Potter boy, even if he still couldn't read everything, and he mentioned the other boy at least once a day, insisting that they would become best friends once they met.

When Narcissa had explained that nobody knew where the boy had been placed after the attack, Draco had become incredibly upset. It had taken the house elves a week before they had managed to restore the smaller living room to its former glory. Since then Draco had become even more obsessed with meeting the last living Potter.

It was … disconcerting to see his son behaving so obsessed about someone he hadn't even met before. The older wizard didn't understand the appeal about the Potter heir either. Naturally, it was intriguing how a small, seemingly defenceless baby had managed to make the darkest wizard of their lifetime disappear without a trace, but for Draco it went beyond being fascinated with a magical mystery.

How could someone be fixated on a person they had never met before?

"Draco, you know that Dumbledore placed Potter somewhere where other people can't find him," Lucius began and serenely ignored Draco's protested "His name is Harry, father!" as he continued, "The papers don't have the means to find him."

"But father!"

"No, Draco." His stern look had the younger boy cowering and looking down at the floor. "It's time to change into your pyjamas and brush your teeth. Go on now."

"Yes, father," Draco muttered dejectedly and a house elf popped up soundlessly next to him, guiding him to his bedroom.

"I thought his obsession with that Potter boy would disappear like all his previous obsessions did," Lucius sighed, turning around to look at Narcissa.

She pursed her lips; the reddened tint on her mouth distracting him for a brief moment. "His obsession with Harry Potter is at least safer than his obsession with exploring the world had been." Weary amusement danced in her ice blue eyes.

He grimaced, recalling all too well the panic he had felt when one of the house elves had informed him three years ago that his son had disappeared and they couldn't immediately locate him. The four year old had managed to escape the watchful eyes of his house elf and had sneaked past the wards, well on his way to the village, determined to explore the world like the hero in his favourite book had done.

With all the shenanigans Draco had been up to so far, it was a miracle he hadn't gone grey yet.

"He definitely gets his penchant for obsessing from your side of the family," he remarked darkly and she narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Yes, it surely can't be yours." She gave him a mocking smile, her eyes sparking dangerously, and he stiffened, eyeing her warily. This time she seemed content to leave the argument at that remark, because she sighed softly and shook her head; her hair swishing gently back and forth. "Just humour him for now. You're always telling him to aim high and that's just what he's doing right now." Amusement played around her lips. "He'll grow out of it, you'll see." She let her fingers dance across his wrist.

"We can only hope he does," he commented wryly.

Who would have thought that an absent boy would give him such a headache?

Draco didn't grow out of his obsession.

With every day that passed he became more and more adamant that he and Potter would be best friends, rattling off all the things they could do together once they met each other. He demanded that his parents tell him everything the papers wrote about their quest to find the elusive boy, only to sulk for days in his room when the journalists had to give up on their search after not even finding one clue that could lead to the boy's location.

Clearly Draco was more serious about this than Lucius had thought. It also exasperated him to no end; he didn't think he could take another four years of this before Draco had to attend school. There were only so many times he could heard the words "Harry Potter" before wanting to down a whole bottle of Firewhiskey.

His wife on the other hand just appeared amused with their son's obsession and did nothing to deter the young boy.

The Blacks had always had an odd sense of humour.

Christmas went by with its usual festivities. The entire manor was decorated: there was a large Christmas tree in the hallway, another one in the grand living room, a third one in the ballroom and one near the gates, the small lights in them twinkling and glittering merrily. A large pile of presents was put underneath the tree in the grand living room – the majority of those being for Draco, who was all too eager to open them.

They held a Christmas ball like every year, inviting all the important and influential Pureblood families while the house elves made certain that there was enough food and drinks. While Lucius discussed potential agreements with other wizards, Narcissa flitted from one witch to the next one, conversing pleasantly with them, looking perfect in her ice white dress – not that she ever looked less than perfect.

Watching her deal with a witch from the Greengrass family was always an amusing diversion for Lucius; the Blacks and the Greengrass' were not fond of each other at all, their mutual dislike tracing back to a dispute concerning land rights in the early seventeen hundreds, but Narcissa smiled politely as the youngest Greengrass witch – he thought her name was Loraine – chattered on obliviously. Bright blue eyes caught his own and he smirked, raising his glass at her. Her eyes flashed briefly – too brief for anyone to notice it if they didn't know her as well as he did – before she returned her full attention back to the other witch.

Draco, meanwhile, was occupying himself in a quiet corner of the ballroom with a couple of other children who had joined their parents. Before the gathering had commenced he had impressed on Draco the importance to not mention Harry Potter even once this evening. The Dark Lord may be gone but his supporters were still out there, awaiting their chance. Lucius could do without the rumours that would start circulating if anyone heard that his son was obsessed with becoming Potter's friend.

Surprisingly Draco had agreed, which was something the older wizard hadn't expected to happen, given his son's fixation on the other boy. A sliver of hope had already started to grow that his son had finally given up on his obsession, but his hopes – small as they had been – had quickly been dashed when Draco had informed him with a huff that of course he wasn't going to talk about Harry Potter tonight, because "the other children might try to steal Harry from me and I don't want that to happen!"

Lucius was starting to consider whether he had gone somewhere wrong with his raising of Draco, because certainly it couldn't be healthy to be that possessive over someone you never had met, right?

Narcissa had simply laughed away his consternation, assuring him it wasn't that abnormal for Draco to behave like that.

Lucius was starting to wonder whether he was missing something.

A couple of days after New Year's day Lucius' father, Abraxas, came over for a visit. He had been in Italy for a while, recovering from a nasty cough and had decided to visit his son and his family once he felt better.

"And I got this potion set from Uncle Severus," Draco explained, showing off his last gift, which was a potion kit aimed at children.

His dark haired friend was clearly intent on sparking Draco's interest in potions. This was the sixth potion related gift he had sent to his godson.

"It seems like you received wonderful presents," Abraxas noted, accepting the cup of tea one of the elves handed over to him with a reverent bow.

Draco beamed. "I did!" Then a frown creased his forehead and he placed the potion kit back on the table. "I didn't get everything I wanted, though."

"Oh?" Abraxas raised an eyebrow and Narcissa cocked her head slightly.

"What didn't you get, Draco?" she asked, taking a sip of her own tea. Her blonde hair, tied together in an intricate braid, glinted softly in the light of the flames.

"Harry," Draco promptly answered and it took everything in Lucius to not groan aloud.

Not this again.

His father looked confused; his own grey eyes flickering briefly to Lucius. "Harry? Who are you talking about?"

"Harry Potter, of course," Draco huffed and to Lucius' horror a small pout formed on his lips. "I want to be friends with him, but nobody can find him." His tone was dangerously close to whining.

"Harry Potter, huh?" Abraxas murmured contemplatively. "You're aiming high, Draco."

"Nothing is too high for a Malfoy," the young boy instantly retorted and Lucius checked a sigh.

Out of all the times Draco had to remember one of his lessons, it had to be now?

"Draco, dear, it's not like we could use magic to bring Harry Potter here," Narcissa said calmly, crossing her right leg over her left. Her gown slid across her long legs like water and the light caught her wedding ring.

"But magic can do everything," Draco insisted and a stubborn frown was etched onto his face.

"Not everything, Draco, as you should remember from your lessons," Lucius remarked sharply and his son had at least the grace to look ashamed.

Abraxas chuckled and ignoring his son's warning look, said, "Well, have you tried wishing really hard? A wish is just another form of magic after all and wishes are said to be very powerful." He smirked, his eyes glinting.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't encourage him," Lucius said stiffly and pressed his lips tightly together; annoyance flashing up like an ember sparking to life.

It was bad enough that Draco's obsession had lasted this long already; he didn't need any more encouragement.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of believing," Abraxas smirked and Lucius resisted the urge to hex the old man.

He was reminded again why he preferred to keep his father out of the manor. The older man seemed to thrive on undoing every lesson Lucius instilled in Draco and it made Lucius grit his teeth. He knew grandparents could be very indulgent towards their grandchildren – though as far as he knew his own grandparents had never been that way – but there was a limit and his father was rapidly approaching that one.

Draco seemed to have taken his grandfather's words to heart because he scrunched up his face in concentration – a habit Lucius had to try to break before his face would get all wrinkled later in his life – and said very determined, "I wish Harry Potter is here with me."

A moment passed in silence, only broken by the 'plick, plick' sound of melting snow dripping from the roof. After several seconds had gone by without anything eventful happening, Draco's face crumpled, disappointment souring his face and his eyes looked suspiciously damp.

Hands clenching in his dark blue sweater, Draco turned with a trembling lower lip to his grandfather and said in a small voice, "I wished really hard, grandfather, but nothing hap- "

BOOM!

The entire manor shook and trembled and groaned as the wards suddenly were under assault and Lucius shot up, wand already in his hand, sharpening his senses to discover what on earth was happening now. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Narcissa pulling Draco flat against her side, her own wand in her hand as her eyes narrowed in concentration. Draco's eyes had widened, fear colouring his face, but he was quiet, smart enough to realise that it was better to not make any sounds now.

"Are you sensing something?" Abraxas inquired softly and took a silent step forwards, coming to stand next to his son with his own wand drawn. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as a grim look slid over his face.

Mind racing, trying to remember whether any of his enemies would be powerful enough to land such a vicious blow against the wards, he answered, "No, but I'm not - " He hissed and brought his hand up in reflex to cover his eyes when a bright light suddenly filled the room as if the sun itself had descended.

Through the tiny gap between his index and middle finger, he saw the light spinning around incredibly fast, buzzing and crackling like lightning before the light grew too intense to look at and he was forced to close his eyes lest he risked being blinded by the unknown entity.

There was a high pitched noise, a gust of wind nearly throwing him to the ground, and then it was silent once more, the light disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.

Opening his eyes, his mouth fell open when he saw what was left in the place of the mysterious light.

A small, frail boy with wild, black hair and emerald green eyes too big for his face stared back at him in shock from behind a crooked and taped pair of glasses. The boy was practically drowning in the thin, green sweater, the material slipping off one bony shoulder and his legs were swallowed in a large pair of brown trousers, the cloth pooling around his feet. The shoes he wore were tattered, barely held together and the once white colour had darkened to a grey and brown.

"What," Abraxas uttered flatly and that pretty much summed up how Lucius felt about this sudden and inexplicable appearance of the unknown boy.

If possible, the boy's eyes widened even more, fear clearly colouring them and as he backed up hastily, eyes shooting back and forth across the room in a panic eerily similar to that of a trapped animal. As he swivelled his head, his hair covering his forehead shifted and there was a peek of a pale red scar, in the shape of –

"What's your name, dear?" Narcissa asked, lowering herself back on the couch, clearly wanting to portray she meant him no harm.

Draco opened his mouth, but one look of his mother had him subdued and he lingered a bit behind her, his grey eyes fixed on the other boy.

Green eyes flickered to Lucius and Abraxas and an audible gasp left the boy when his back hit the closed door.

Deciding to have his wife lead this particular interrogation, he forced himself to visibly relax and smoothen his expression out to a neutral one, even if it went against every fibre of his being to not react.

"Dear, what's your name?" Narcissa repeated patiently, drawing the boy's attention back to her with her soothing voice.

Lucius hadn't managed to figure out yet whether she used a particular spell to inject that particular brand of soothing in her voice. Whatever she did, this particular tone of hers always managed to attract the attention of the one it was aimed at and even calm them down somewhat.

The mysterious little boy was no exception.

"My – my uncle calls me boy," the dark haired child replied softly.

Lucius was taken aback by the answer and he shared a look with his wife.

"Well, darling, if your … uncle doesn't call you boy, what does he call you then?" Narcissa questioned and it was probably only Lucius who noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, the manner in which the corners of her lips tightened almost imperceptibly.

The child hesitated, feet shuffling nervously, before he answered, "Freak."

"And I thought my uncle was a bit off," Abraxas muttered behind him and Lucius grimaced.

"Do you go to school, darling?" Narcissa asked and she slid almost unnoticeably closer to the young boy, keeping her voice soft and calm.

The boy nodded, eyes darting from her to Draco, who gazed back with wide eyes.

"And what do the teachers call you there?"

The child cocked his head and responded, confusion colouring his voice, "Miss Larissa calls me Harry, but Mister Deaton calls me Potter if he's mad."

This time Lucius had to sit down, shock making his legs unstable. This was Harry Potter? This small, frail child was supposed to be the one who had defeated the darkest and one of the most powerful wizards of their lifetime? He looked like he would fall over if someone even sighed in his direction!

"It worked!" Draco crowed, clapping his hands together as excitement made his eyes glitter and a large grin broke out on his face. "It worked, grandfather, you're right! I made a wish and it came true!"

"What did you wish for?" Potter asked confused, seeming entranced by the way Draco was practically vibrating where he stood as if he was hit with the Buzzing Bee charm.

"I wished that you were here and now you are!" Draco put his hand on Narcissa's elbow. "Isn't that amazing, mother?"

"Yes, it is, Draco," Narcissa smiled, but it was slightly strained and she gave Lucius a worried look. "Tell me, Harry, do you know how you ended up here?"

Panic started to grow back in those green eyes – and really, how had Lucius not realised sooner that this was Harry Potter? Not many people had that particular shade of green. Lily Evans had been the only one as far as he knew – and Potter started to wrangle his hands together, looking ready to run away.

"Harry? It's okay, I'm just curious," Narcissa said soothingly.

"You're going to be mad," Potter whimpered and he cringed, as if he –

As if he was expecting to be hit.

"I'm not going to be mad, darling, I promise," she said, smiling gently. "I just want to know."

"I – I – my uncle was mad and I – I just wanted to be somewhere else," Potter stammered, biting his lip. "S-so I wished to be somewhere else."

"Sounds like a powerful feat of magic," Abraxas commented casually.

Potter's head immediately whipped towards him and it shouldn't be possible, but his eyes grew even wider with fear and he started shaking his head back and forth rapidly. "Not magic, Uncle says magic isn't real and I don't want to be a freak! I – I want to be normal, but things happen and I – I - "

Draco shot forwards, the excitement on his face quickly replaced with worry and alarm. "You're not a freak! Magic is real and it's amazing! You can do magic too! Magic brought you here, see?" He reached out with his arms, clearly intent on hugging the smaller boy, but Potter flinched and instead Draco gripped his hands, squeezing in them. "Your uncle is mean! He shouldn't call you bad names! But you don't have to go back there, you can stay here with me. Right, mother, father?" Grey eyes looked at them both pleadingly and expectantly.

Lucius shared a look with Narcissa and he inclined his head at the question in her eyes. Yes, they needed to talk privately.

Immediately.

Narcissa rose gracefully from the couch, brushing down her gown. "Draco, your father and I need to talk in private for a bit. Why don't you stay here with Harry and explain to him what magic exactly is? You can share your cookies and tea with him."

Draco frowned, obviously put out at not hearing his parents immediately agree, but after shooting a look at Potter, he nodded. "Yes, mother."

"I'll be right back, Harry," Narcissa said soothingly. "My son will stay with you in the meantime, okay?"

Potter appeared both too afraid and too confused to protest and he simply let himself be tugged to the couch by a very determined Draco.

The last thing Lucius heard before the door swung shut behind Abraxas was his son saying, "So you sit here and I'm going to tell you all about magic, okay, Harry?"

The three adults remained silent until they entered Lucius' study. A snap of his fingers had a house elf popping in and placing a tray with three glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey on the small table.

"Well, this is an interesting situation," Abraxas said nonchalantly, sinking down into the leather chair. He picked up a glass filled with two inches of Firewhiskey and looked at it contemplatively. "Question now is: what are you going to do about it?"

"You do realise that it is partly your fault, right?" Lucius raised an eyebrow and sat down on his chair behind his desk. "If you hadn't filled Draco's head with that nonsense about the wish - "

"Except that clearly it isn't nonsense like you think it is, considering young Harry Potter is currently having his ears talked off by my grandson," Abraxas pointed out mildly and took a sip of his whiskey.

"Perhaps the two of them making a wish at the same time caused the magic to react?" Narcissa suggested. She bypassed the table with the whiskey and leant against Lucius' desk, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "My grandmother was adamant that we should be careful with what we wish for and clearly she was right."

"Fine, let's assume it's because they both made a wish at the same time," Lucius conceded and tapped his fingers on a pile of blank parchment. "What are we going to do with Potter now?"

His wife raised an eyebrow and cast him a peculiar look. "Isn't it obvious? We can take over his upbringing." Her upper lip curled up in a sneer. "Clearly his Muggle family isn't up to the task."

"We can't raise him, Narcissa," Lucius sighed exasperatedly and he pinched the bridge of his nose. How had it come to this for Merlin's sake?

One moment he was just enjoying an afternoon with is family and the next Harry Potter is in his living room and his wife seemed to think it was feasible to basically adopt the child.

"And why not? We're doing a good job with Draco," she replied coolly.

He leant forwards, fixing her with a warning look. "Because he's Harry Potter. The one who brought down the Dark Lord. It would be dangerous to raise him, 'Cissa. He already has a bull's eye painted on his back due to the Dark Lord's followers – he isn't safe."

"The manor has excellent wards," she snapped, visibly tensing. "We can protect him well enough if that's your only objection."

"My only objection? Darling, what do you think the public will say if we raise him? He's become the symbol of hope for the majority of the Wizarding World – word will travel around if we take him in and the results won't be pretty," he said darkly.

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment," Abraxas muttered, deeming it wiser to escape the growing tension in the room.

Lucius growled and threw the retreating figure of his father a foul look. It figured that his father would disappear now.

"The public won't react negatively because we're going to have the public on our side," Narcissa smiled sharply and leant forwards, pressing her hands down on the desk. Her ice blue eyes gleamed dangerously.

"And pray tell, how are we going to do that?" He raised an eyebrow and sneered, "I hope you remember, my dear wife, that we are still regarded suspiciously by the Ministry and the public. If Dumbledore hears that we have his precious Boy-Who-Lived, he's going to make our lives quite difficult and frankly, I'm not up to a visit in Azkaban because I'm falsely accused of kidnapping Potter."

"We'll have to call our Healer and let him examine Harry, but I suspect – and I'm sure you do as well – that he's being abused by his Muggle family," she began and determination glinted in her eyes. A vicious smirk painted her mouth. "Now what do you think is going to happen if we inform that Ministry about this abuse? If we tell them that Dumbledore was allowing the abuse to happen? The media would have a field day with this particular information, don't you think so? People are going to start doubting Dumbledore, they are going to start questioning his decisions. After all, can they really trust someone who would let the saviour of the world be abused by ignorant fools?"

"His position as Headmaster and Head of the Wizengamot would be in danger," Lucius murmured and unwillingly he felt himself start faltering. He shook his head, forcing himself to remember that the old fool wasn't their only problem. "The Dark Lord's followers – if he comes back and word gets out we raised the one who defeated him … We wouldn't be safe, Narcissa."

"We Malfoys align ourselves with the powerful, the victorious ones," she stated clearly, voice cool and collected. "Lucius, that boy out there is probably going to be one of the most powerful wizards alive. His wish was already powerful enough to bring him here, to our son, straight through our wards. He's only going to become even more powerful – especially with the right training. Politically he's going to be a force to reckoned with as well. Do you really want to be on the opposite side of him if it comes to a war? Do you really want to risk going against him when he's already showing remarkable magic? It's in our best interest to take him in, to raise him alongside Draco. To have him on our side."

But that wasn't it really. Not completely anyway.

Narcissa's arguments were compelling and true. The wards around the manor were one of the most powerful raised, bar those around Hogwarts maybe. The name 'Harry Potter' would open a lot of doors later on; only an idiot couldn't see that. Nobody knew how exactly Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, but he was till this date the only one who had managed to survive the Killing Curse. That alone made him an exceptional wizard.

Given the right tools, the right training, the right upbringing … Harry Potter would be a force to reckon with.

However Narcissa wasn't arguing for those benefits alone. Certainly, she had the best interest of the family in mind; knew how to play around in politics to gain the most favour for the Malfoy name.

But this time politics and power were just the arguments she was using to convince Lucius. The real reason why she wanted to keep Potter was hidden deeply in her eyes, but the blond man knew her well enough to read her completely. She had no secrets for him and he could read the longing in her eyes for another child, a second child to raise, to dote on, to take care of.

Carrying Draco had been rough on her and during the delivery she had lost an alarming amount of blood and it had taken a lot of spells to keep her with them. They had been advised to not try for a second child, for fear that she wouldn't survive a second pregnancy.

The longing for a second child had remained, however, even if she had never spoken about it with her husband. Even if they pretended it didn't hurt that they would never have the chance at another child. Pretended that it didn't ache that they weren't even given the chance to decide whether they wanted more than one child.

Now Potter was here, had been practically dropped in their laps, was giving them a chance at having a second child in an admittedly quite unorthodox way.

Even if there hadn't been any advantages in keeping the child, Lucius was certain that Narcissa would have gone through hell if that meant she would get the chance to raise another child.

There was nothing stronger than a mother's love, after all. Not even magic.

He leant back in his chair with a sigh. "I fear the day you decide to enter politics completely. You'd be a force to reckon with, I'm sure."

She smiled and walked around the desk to stand next to him. "You just need the occasional reminder as to what is a smart move, darling," she teased and bent down to kiss him softly on his lips.

He hummed, kissing her back, and placed his hands on her hips, drawing her in closer. "It's a good thing that I have you then, isn't it?"

"What would you be without me?" she chuckled, drawing back from the kiss; her cheeks lightly flushed.

He traced the flush with his thumb and had the pleasure of seeing it deepen to a rose red. "I'd be lost without you," he admitted truthfully.

She gave him a pleased look. "Let's go back to the boys, shall we? We need to become better acquainted with each other."

"It's not going to be easy," he warned her, rising up.

She gazed at him defiantly and he was reminded once more why he had fallen for her. "Lucius, if I wanted an easy life, I would have married someone else."

"I'm glad you didn't," he murmured and she squeezed his hand.

"Let's go."

A thought shot through his head when they were nearly at the living room and he groaned, unable to decide whether to be amused or annoyed.

"What's wrong?" Narcissa regarded him curiously.

"Draco is going to be absolutely insufferable once we tell him our plan," he answered dryly.

Her eyes were bright with laughter. "He's a Malfoy. We always get what we want." Her face softened and her hand drifted absentmindedly to her stomach before she dropped it resolutely.

He took her hand and pressed a kiss on it, keeping his eyes fixated on hers. "Yes, we do." He turned towards the door; behind that door was a new start for them all, a new path for their family to take. The path wouldn't be smooth; they would encounter trouble, people who would try to hurt them, who would do everything in their power to take them down.

But they could do it. A Malfoy never gave up, they persevered and came out on the other side victorious.

"Guess wishes do come true sometimes, hm?" he murmured and after sharing another look with Narcissa, they entered the living room hand in hand.

Ready for a new year, a new beginning.

AN2: babyvfan, I hope this at least comes close to your expectations :) It's maybe not as fluffy as you expected, but well, you know me *coughs*

Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.

I hope to see you all in my other stories!

Cuddles

Melissa

P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.