This is another late entry that I'm allowing because I had no internet for nine days and the drabbler was unable to post straight away as she'd only just been Sorted.
Draco and his father had been given an assignment by the Dark Lord. It seemed simple enough to Draco, burn down an orphanage, a Muggle one at that, apparently the one that Voldemort had grown up in before becoming the most powerful dark wizard ever. So he didn’t quite understand why they were standing on the other side of the street just staring at the building. They should be getting on with the job, and back home to bed.
“What are we waiting for?” he hissed at his father.
Lucius answered him without turning his head. “Morning.”
“Why?” Draco answered impatiently. “What difference do a few hours make, other than the sleep that we’re missing?”
“In the morning they’ll have a better chance of getting the children out.”
Draco snorted, “They’re Muggles, who cares?!”
With a heavy sigh, Lucius finally looked at his son. He moved to a nearby bench and sat down. When Draco flopped down beside him, Lucius looked down at his hands a minute before speaking. “When they send you to Azkaban, the dementors find all kinds of dark things inside you that they feed on while making you remember them. Things you put out of your mind, things you have denied for so long that you don’t accept them as truth any longer…”
Turning his gaze back to the orphanage, Lucius continued. “When I was your age, a group of my friends and I decided it would be great fun to play with Muggles’ heads. So we went to one of their summer gatherings, it’s called a fair. We walked around and won all the games, and put jinxes on the rides, and tormented the animals. It was very amusing. Then one of the guys had the idea to attract the attention of a group of Muggle girls we kept seeing.” A small smile twisted his lips. “The girl I ended up with was named Helen. She was a sweet girl, smiled a lot, and she had soft brown hair that smelled like apples.”
“Dad!” Draco interrupted, shocked. “A Muggle?!”
“I’ve always told you that Muggles are horrible despicable wastes of space, haven’t I?” Lucius shook his head sadly. “I was mad at them all, because of her. I spent most of the summer with her, fell completely, madly in love. She was so different from anyone else I’d known, and I enjoyed spending time with her. It felt like a special kind of magic there for awhile.”
“Then she broke my heart. One day Helen just asked to meet me here, could have even been this very bench I suppose.” He ran a hand along the painted edge beside him, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Helen told me that she was pregnant, but that she didn’t want the baby and would leave it here when it was born.” He nodded his head towards the orphanage. “Helen said I could have it if I wanted it, but she was determined to finish school and wanted a job overseas someday. We argued for a long time. I even offered to marry her, Draco; but she wanted nothing to do with it.”
Lucius closed his eyes against a pain only he could see. “I was so mad. So very mad. Soon after that I was introduced to the Death Eaters. It was easy to use all the anger I felt at Helen and take it out on all Muggles. Unfortunately, one drunken night, I told someone else my story. He decided we should go find her. When we did, he killed her. She was still pregnant.” Lucius’ voice dropped off.
“I moved on, married your mother and started a family. I buried Helen’s memory deep, but the dementors found it, and brought it out and made me think about it.” He put his hand on Draco’s knee. “I feel incredible guilt about many things. I don’t need to add the deaths of these children to it. Especially when I think of how your half-brother or sister could have lived here.”
Draco was quiet for awhile, staring now at the building himself. He placed his hand on his father’s. Finally he simply said, “You’re right. It can wait ‘til morning.”