Title: The Phoenix of the Malfoys
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa, otherwise gen
Content Notes: AU after fifth year, angst, violence
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: This part 5000
Summary: AU. In the Department of Mysteries, Lucius Malfoy sees a prophecy with his name on it. He picks it up—and hears that Harry Potter will be the salvation of his family. Now if the stubborn boy will just let Lucius mentor him...
Author's Notes: This is one of my "From Samhain to the Solstice" fics for this year. It will have three parts. The title refers to an old definition of "phoenix" as a remarkable person or thing.

The Phoenix of the Malfoys

Lucius backed slowly towards the shelf behind him, his mind racing. He had no idea how six teenagers had managed to hold their own against the Death Eaters for nearly this long, and no idea what to do about the prophecy in Potter's hands.

All in all, it made him more than a little wary at the thought of facing the next few years—or months, or weeks—in the company of his fellow Death Eaters. Or even facing the Dark Lord's wand tonight. He grimaced. Nothing since June of last year had gone the way he wanted it.

"Lucius!"

He spun as someone shouted his name from the side, and so his eye fell on the tiny crystal ball sitting motionless on the shelf next to him. For long moments, he could only stare, his eyes tracing the flowing writing of his name over and over again.

Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter.

It was all that it said, but it exuded an air of promise so rich that Lucius could only compare it to what he had felt at sixteen years of age when he had knelt at the Dark Lord's feet to receive the Mark.

"Lucius!" the same voice yelled, sounding like Mulciber, and he snatched his prophecy from the shelf and ran in the direction of the battle without slowing.

Because he arrived a little late, he was in time to see Dumbledore appear and duel the Dark Lord. Because he had eyes, he saw the Aurors behind him. He managed to place himself behind Mulciber's broad shoulder so that he wasn't spotted.

And he saw the eventual seeds of the Dark Lord's defeat sown that night. He knew that the Minister would have no choice but to announce the Dark Lord's return with the amount of eyes that had seen him.

Lucius's mind had been swift since the day he was born, but he honestly didn't need that much swiftness to know what would happen to his fellow Death Eaters here. He made his way to the Floo behind him with silent steps and tossed a handful of Floo powder in.

The last thing he saw was Mulciber's gaping, betrayed face, but he ignored it. He would go home and pretend he had been there all along, and he knew that Cornelius would be happy enough to accept his word.

Besides, he and Narcissa had a prophecy to listen to.

"What do you think it's about?" Narcissa's eyes glittered like frost as she stared at the small crystal ball lying in the middle of the table where Lucius had placed it.

"Well, I hope it doesn't signal my death."

Narcissa lifted her eyes, and Lucius winced. She often did tell him that his sense of humor manifested at the worst times.

"Do you know how to make it speak?" she asked instead of scolding him, though, and Lucius knew then how gravely she took it. He nodded and reached out to lay both hands on the orb at once, cupping them, making sure that the orb touched both palms equally.

There was a long shudder that made the room swim for a moment as if they stood underwater. Then Lucius caught his breath in wonder as he watched a thin figure rise from the globe. It was clad in tattered robes and the face was gaunt, but he recognized the great Cassandra Trelawney anyway. There was a picture of her in one of the history books that his ancestors had written and stored away.

She spoke in a voice that seemed to ring and drift from the rafters.

"If the Malfoy with the memento mori in his flesh calls the phoenix and holds him safe until his burning day, then shall the Malfoy family grow and thrive until the sun falls from the sky. But if that Malfoy honors the memento above the phoenix, then his family shall be devoured in the flame."

The prophecy ended, and Trelawney's figure was sucked violently back into the orb. Lucius collapsed into the chair, staring at the silent, sparkling thing.

"And you understand that?" Narcissa had drawn the shawl around her shoulders and was looking past him at the fire, her movements so slight that Lucius understood how deeply her fear had run.

"Yes. A—a memento mori is a Muggle concept, meant to remind them of their own mortality." This time, Narcissa's turn of her head was slight and incredulous, but although Lucius didn't like seeing it, he forged ahead. "It usually includes a skull." He raised and shook his left arm, without removing the sleeve from the Mark. He and Narcissa had Rules about that.

Narcissa nodded once. "Then the memento mori in your flesh refers to—that."

"It does." Lucius sat back and waited for his wife to say something else. From the intent way her eyes fixed on the prophecy orb, he knew she would come to the same conclusion that he did. But it sometimes took her more time to make up her mind.

Narcissa sighed at last. "Then we have no choice but to place ourselves on Harry Potter's side."

"That's what the prophecy seems to be saying to me, my dear."

Narcissa gave him a sharp glance. "And what do you think it means about a phoenix? What was all that nonsense?"

Lucius managed to smile. "A phoenix can mean someone remarkable, and I think you could call someone who's survived the Killing Curse remarkable—if only for his stubbornness and his commitment to heroism." Lucius wanted to shake his head every time he remembered those fiercely glowing green eyes in the middle of the Department of Mysteries. He couldn't say he understood Potter, but he admired him. In a way.

"I do not see how we can change sides in the war now."

"It will be easier than it might have been otherwise," Lucius said. "I hid behind Mulciber and left the Department of Mysteries without anyone seeing me. And now we have this." He nodded to the prophecy orb in the center of the table.

Narcissa sighed. "Draco hates the boy. You know he won't be happy about this."

"I think Draco will have to get used to it, dear. And if our family flourishes because of Potter, the way the prophecy promises, then Draco will have all the wealth and attention he wants." Lucius reached out to take her hand, aware of the way he would feel if her fingers curled harshly around his. "Are we agreed?"

"We are." Narcissa turned her head a little as they heard footsteps in the corridor approaching them. "Why don't you talk to Draco, and see what you need to learn to get the Potter boy under your control?"

To Luicus's disappointment, his son could give him little information. Draco ranted a great deal about the spoiled and fame-hungry Potter, but he was still talking about things that went back to first year, and the genesis of his hatred seemed to come down to the fact that Potter hadn't shaken his hand on the train. When Lucius had asked to look at the actual memory, so he could get a better idea of how the boy acted, Draco had turned bright red and said hurriedly that he didn't really remember it all that well.

Which suggested his son had some self-awareness, at least. But it also meant that Lucius was reduced to lounging around a ridiculous Muggle neighborhood in an Invisibility Cloak that he'd "borrowed" from one of the other Death Eaters a few months ago.

At least learning Potter's address hadn't been difficult. Lucius had pried into Ministry records about underage magic—Draco had been good for that much, recounting a conversation he'd overheard Potter having with the Weasley and Granger brats about once being chastised for the use of that kind of magic—and found it in a few minutes.

That had actually strengthened Lucius's resolve on his new course, oddly enough. The Dark Lord should have employed someone to do this years ago, and he could have. He had enough people under his control, financial or otherwise, in the Ministry. Why hadn't he done it?

Because his obsession and his paranoia had taken him to dangerous heights, Lucius thought now. Once he had determined on seeking the prophecy, he had done nothing else. Lucius approved of determination, but one could go too far.

Now, Lucius leaned forwards as he watched the Potter boy come out of his Muggle relatives' house. He hardly seemed to spend time outdoors unless he was working in the garden. That puzzled Lucius. He knew that Muggles had no house-elves—it was one of the many ways they were backward—but why would Potter be doing the chores when he was more powerful than anyone else there?

Now, for once, Potter wasn't doing chores. He turned towards Lucius, and his eyes were so hard that Lucius let one hand drop to his wand before he thought about it.

"I know you're there. I saw you cast a spell earlier. Come out."

Lucius didn't particularly like being commanded, but he'd put up with it for years from the Dark Lord, and if he did manage to convince Potter to accept him as a mentor, then he would hold a position of respect with him soon enough. He dropped the Invisibility Cloak and moved forwards, although he did cast a charm to keep the Muggles off.

Potter's eyes were as green as the grass he stood on. He considered Lucius with a stillness that didn't seem to arise from fear, although his hand tightened on his own wand. "Why are you here?" he finally asked.

Lucius swallowed. "I found a prophecy that says my family could thrive by helping you," he said. He'd intended to spin some complicated tale of how watching the battle against children had changed his mind and morals, but the truth came spilling out before he even thought of it. "I wanted to come and see if it was true."

Potter curled his lip. "I've had enough of prophecies."

"I don't blame you, when your godfather died there," Lucius murmured. Potter looked startled, as if he had thought Lucius wouldn't dare comment on that. "But this one is important to my family. It says that the Malfoys will decline if we don't help you, and I would do anything to save my family."

Potter folded his arms. "Tell me this prophecy."

Lucius recited it quietly, making sure that no Order guards were nearby with quick checks over his shoulders, and explained about the memento mori concept as he had to Narcissa. Potter looked intently at his covered Dark Mark. "How can you switch sides, though? I know he practically has you on a chain."

The words were far more insightful than Lucius would have thought. He managed to blink and then reply, "There are ways of forsaking him that I haven't even tried yet, but I'm going to make happen as soon as I get the privacy I need. But I wanted to speak to you first, and see if you would even give us a chance."

"Your son's been a bastard to me."

"And for that, would you condemn a family?" Lucius was betting that Potter would be susceptible to this tactic, one that he knew Narcissa would not have tried, because the boy had had enough compassion in the first place to forgive Lucius for the part he had played in the Department of Mysteries instead of just cursing him away. Potter hesitated, and Lucius bowed his head. "I know that Draco has not been your friend, but the Dark Lord will destroy him if he learns of this. And me. And my wife."

"All I know about you is that you're Draco's father, and a Death Eater, and a bastard to your house-elves, and the person who set that diary loose in the school in my second year and nearly got Ginny killed."

It took Lucius a moment of struggle to recall that Ginny was the name of the youngest Weasley child. He sighed. He supposed he would have to memorize them all now. "I know. And I want to apologize."

"But not because you realized what was wrong! Just because you want to live!"

"Isn't that what you want, too, Harry?" The use of the boy's first name was calculated, of course, but Lucius saw him hesitate again. "I know that you have encountered danger, but you don't want to die. I'm certain of it."

"You don't know me at all," Potter whispered.

Lucius studied him from beneath lowered eyelids. Potter's face was pale, and he stared into the distance as though—

As though he could see the Dark Lord marching towards him, and be happy about it.

Lucius held back his curses with a sharp check on himself, and even then, they nearly escaped. The boy was in such deep mourning for his godfather that he had lost the will to defend himself.

Well. Lucius was going to take care of that right now. He held out his hand. "Come with me, Mr. Potter."

Potter glanced over his shoulder at his Muggle relatives' house, and then faced Lucius again. "Are you going to take me to Voldemort? Or kill me?" Lucius flinched at Voldemort's name, and saw the way Potter's lip curled a little.

Not entirely suicidal. Thank Merlin for that. "Would you care if I was, Mr. Potter?" he asked quietly. "You seem determined to die."

"I didn't think before I rushed into the Department of Mysteries." Potter's eyes were fastened on Lucius's face, but Lucius knew well enough what someone looked like when they weren't seeing him. "I caused Sirius's death."

Lucius held back the sigh. He had no time for Gryffindor dramatics, but it looked as if he would have to learn. "If you come with me, then I can tell you all the reasons that that's wrong."

"But that's what someone like you would say. You want me to save your family, so you want to persuade me to live." Potter turned away and began walking back towards the Muggle house.

Lucius lost patience and lunged forwards, grabbing Potter's arm. Then he turned and Apparated them both. He heard no sounds behind him, either the expected alarms from wards or the shouts of Order guards, but he wasn't about to stay there and wait for them.

They came out of the Apparition in the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Potter staggered as Lucius let him go and whirled around to face him. "You kidnapped me!" he gasped, as indignant as though he didn't have a Dark Lord after him.

"You want to die. How do you know that I'm not about to grant your fondest wish?"

Potter backed up a step and clenched his wand. His eyes darted around as though cataloging the position of each stone and flower and how he was going to make it into a weapon. Lucius smiled thinly. Not so suicidal when it came to it, then. Good.

Lucius started to say something else, but Draco's voice, unwelcome in the extreme at the moment, cut across the air first. "Why did you bring Potter here, Father?"

"He decided that he'd rather have a real heir instead of a little coward," Potter retorted, and turned towards Draco, every inch of him bristling with hostility now. Draco was entirely focused on him, too, and so no one saw the pinch to his nose that Lucius gave.

"Children," he said, which had the effect of uniting them against him in indignation. Lucius ignored that. "Potter is here for a reason that you'll be told about in just a little while, Draco. In the meantime, please go inform your mother that we have a guest."

Draco folded his arms. "That's a house-elf's job."

"Draco. That was not a request."

Despite what some people outside the family might think, Lucius rarely used that tone with Draco, the tone that his own father had so often subjected him to. Draco's eyes darted up to him now, and he swallowed at what Lucius knew was showing in his eyes. "Yes, sir," Draco muttered, and then turned and practically fled into the house.

"I'm not your guest."

Lucius rolled his eyes and turned back to Potter. "If we are going to be working together, then we might as well get used to being on pleasant terms. Would you prefer 'prisoner'? I don't truly think so."

Potter gave a short laugh and stared back at him with greater defiance than Lucius would have thought the melancholy boy of a few minutes ago capable of. "Given that I'm pretty used to that in Surrey, you can't use it to frighten me."

Lucius blinked and started to ask what the boy meant, but then he heard the swish of robes around slim ankles, and he turned to greet Narcissa with no little relief. "Hello, my dear. This is Harry Potter, our guest."

His wife stilled for a moment, taking in the scene, and then nodded. "Mr. Potter, a pleasure to meet you. Would you like a room on the ground floor or the first floor? And a bath will be drawn for you."

Potter stiffened and held himself for a moment as if he was going to lash out at Narcissa. Lucius subtly readied his wand. The prophecy was one thing, but no one was going to harm his wife.

Then Potter looked down at himself and shrugged. "A bath would be nice."

"Of course. And ground floor or first floor?"

Of all the things Lucius had said so far, that was what made Potter start and look at Narcissa with wide eyes. "You—you meant it? You're not going to lock me up in whatever kind of dungeon you have here?"

"You are a guest," Narcissa said, while frowning at Lucius and casting a small spell that made him able to hear her thoughts. Is he perhaps deranged with hunger? He looks skinny enough. "Of course we will not lock you up in a dungeon."

Lucius cast the same spell and answered back, I don't know, while Potter cleared his throat and said in an embarrassed voice, "Er—first floor, then. Or wherever will be most out of the way. Thank you."

Narcissa nodded and called a house-elf to escort Potter in. Potter jumped a little and looked at the elf out of the corner of his eye as it led him towards the house. Lucius rolled his eyes and hoped Potter wouldn't be giving clothes to this one.

"This is beyond strange," Narcissa murmured, which was just what Lucius had been thinking himself. "Where is the arrogant boy who Draco reported on? I know Draco sometimes exaggerates, but his tales have been so consistent…"

"He couldn't have made all of it up," Lucius finished with a nod. "And I did see some arrogance in the way that Potter was prepared to face down me, an adult wizard, when he looked as if a strong breeze would knock him over."

"Others would call that courage." Narcissa looked towards the door that had shut behind Potter and the house-elf with a disturbed frown. "I want to know what is going on, Lucius."

"Of course. Perhaps after Mr. Potter's bath, we can speak with him."

Potter did look better after the bath, Lucius had to admit. His hair was merely shaggy instead of dirt-encrusted, and the house-elf had found a set of Draco's old robes that it had shrunken for him. Potter still held his wand, in a grip that suggested to Lucius that he had perhaps bathed with it, and he sat down across from Lucius and Narcissa in the Emerald Drawing Room and stared around with an expression of almost feral awe, but at least Lucius could tell he was a human being and not a skeleton now.

Lucius started to speak, and then was cut off by an odd sound. A second later, he realized it was the rumble of Potter's stomach.

"Tibby, a meal," Narcissa told the elf who had popped into the room at a snap of her fingers.

"You don't need to do that, Mrs. Malfoy," Potter insisted. "I'm fine."

"I would prefer not to have our conversation interrupted by the sound of you being 'fine,'" Lucius told the boy.

Potter leaned back with his arms folded and stared at the ceiling. "Fine."

"While the meal is being prepared," Narcissa suggested, "why don't you tell us what you were doing in the Department of Mysteries that night? I know very well why my husband was there, and the people with him, but you are an unknown factor, Mr. Potter."

Potter stared at her without expression. Lucius was sure that thoughts were dancing fast behind his eyes, and hid a frown. He would have to give Potter some training in concealing his thoughts better than this.

"Listen," Potter said. "The answer—part of it has to do with the fact that He-Who-Must-Be-Noseless can see through my eyes. He's going to see through them and see you helping me at some point. Do you really want to put yourselves out there? To know more than you have to?"

Lucius choked at the name for the Dark Lord, but Narcissa leaned over and placed her hand comfortingly on Potter's. "He would find out what we have done already anyway," she said softly. "I think that you should tell us the truth, Mr. Potter, instead of wondering about what is or is not going to happen to us."

"If you're sure." Potter's eyes weighed and measured and judged, and Lucius was sure that the spark in them was part of the reason the prophecy had brought him and Potter together in the first place.

"I am."

Potter nodded, and began.

It took time for the whole tangled story to come out, and Lucius was still shaking his head slightly when Potter finished. The visions, the "link" that apparently existed between Potter and the Dark Lord, the loss of the final person Potter had considered family, and the prophecy that had bound Potter and the Dark Lord…

Lucius was sure, at least, that they would never have heard about that last bit if not for Narcissa. She had coaxed it gently from Potter, her head bent towards him, her voice softer and sweeter than Lucius would have thought she could ever have been to the child of a Mudblood.

Muggleborn. He should work on changing the word even in his thoughts. He had unfortunate experiences with how the truth might emerge otherwise.

There was one other factor that made Potter tell them the truth and that Lucius hadn't counted on: Potter's bitterness that Albus Dumbledore had never told him about the prophecy that controlled his whole life before. His eyes blazed as he talked about it, and he cut himself off only when Narcissa asked about his reaction to the news, shaking his head.

"It wasn't pretty," was all he said, in between gulps of the hot tomato soup that Tibby had fetched for him.

Narcissa patted his arm and raised her eyebrows at Lucius. Lucius nodded.

"You must be tired as well as hungry, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said gently.

"Yes," Potter said after a pause. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Narcissa nodded as if this was only to be expected and clapped her hands. Tibby popped up. "Please lead Mr. Potter to his room," she murmured.

Potter paused with his hand on the chair arm as he stood. "You should know that I—I don't trust you, but thank you for what you've done so far."

"Yes, you're welcome," Narcissa said. Lucius nodded. He'd stayed quiet and let Narcissa handle most of the interactions. Of course he would have to be involved in the boy's training in the future, but for right now, Narcissa was the maternal face the boy needed.

The door had hardly shut behind Potter when Narcissa turned to Lucius, her mask off again. "I believe your prophecy more now than I was originally inclined to, Lucius."

"Because of meeting Potter?"

"Yes. He could become a remarkable young man with the right training. We will have to do much about some aspects of his behavior, but…" Narcissa trailed off, and Lucius waited patiently for her to finish her thoughts. She was playing with a teacup the elves had left behind, something she only did when deep in serious thought.

"That link between him and the Dark Lord," she said at last. "Did you notice that he didn't seem to have any idea what it was?"

"Why should he? I think it's reasonable for Dumbledore to keep secrets even from his own puppets."

"Yes, but—Draco has described Potter as being obsessed with secrets and doing anything he can to find them out." Narcissa cast a disturbed glance towards the door. "He doesn't seem to have sought this one out."

"I suppose it has to do with the prophecy. And perhaps he has some ideas that he doesn't want to confirm, or didn't want to work to confirm. It seems the death of his godfather weighs on him rather heavily."

"Yes." Narcissa turned the teacup in her hands again. "Lucius, I think I know what that link is."

Well, that he hadn't expected, no matter how much experience Blacks had with the Dark Arts. He lifted his eyebrows. "All right. What is it?"

"You said that the Dark Lord returned without all the physical features that he—used to have. And that he talked about proceeding further down the path of immortality than anyone ever had before." Lucius nodded. Narcissa had examined his Pensieve memories of the moment in the graveyard when the Dark Lord had returned, since she had never met the "man" herself. "I believe he may have used soul-magic."

Lucius felt his eyes widen. "What?" Soul-magic was forbidden for a reason. There was no way for even the most powerful wizard to control it, because damage to the soul damaged the magic as well. It would spiral out of control instantly.

"Yes." Narcissa frowned. "And there is only one method that could have left him that particular combination of insane and harmed by the Dark Arts." She took what sound like a difficult breath. "Horcruxes."

Lucius hissed in spite of himself. Narcissa reached out and clasped his hand. "I begin to be glad that you found your prophecy," she said softly.

Lucius nodded without really attending. His mind was reeling too badly. "But—is it even possible to make a Horcrux out of a living thing?"

"Oh, yes." Narcissa was grimacing in distaste. "It's the sort of thing that even my father would not have done, but he taught us to recognize the symptoms in case we faced someone who was a living Horcrux in battle."

"We must face Potter in battle, then?"

"You're not listening to me," Narcissa said. "Most living Horcruxes are entirely enslaved to the person who created them. I wouldn't be surprised if the Dark Lord's snake is one," she added, and Lucius almost gagged at the thought of the Dark Lord having more than one. "But Potter defies the Dark Lord, and he seems to have normal emotions. He's not an automaton. I think—I think that he probably received the soul-piece as an infant, and his own soul has had time to grow around it."

"That would make sense," Lucius murmured. At least, it would from the little he knew about Horcruxes. "But then what do we do? We cannot experiment with soul-magic ourselves to get rid of the piece he carries."

"Living Horcruxes can reject their soul-pieces if they remain free of the wizard who created them for long enough," Narcissa said. "It is simply rare because the piece of corrupted soul usually takes them over so quickly that there is no chance. But with Potter? There might be one. Give me a chance to look up the appropriate rituals in the books I have here."

Lucius raised and kissed her hand. "Have I told you that you are a wonder?"

"You may have," said Narcissa, with another fleeting smile. "It is still pleasant to hear." She nodded to him, kissed him on the cheek, and vanished in the direction of the library.

Lucius leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the Firewhisky that he had decided he was perfectly free to drink even if they were entertaining a Potter at the moment. Right now, things were looking up.