The Malfoy Chronicles

It was a calm but cold day at Azkaban. Although the sun shone brightly on the early winter morning, the stone of the great prison seemed to absorb none of its warmth. But that was of no matter to a particular prisoner. He wasn’t interested in the weather, but in the date. Today was the date of his release. Nine long years after the War was over, he would finally be getting his release from the frosty hell. Nine long years of putting up with sub-standard conditions, minimal food, dismal surroundings, and the constant scream of inmates long-insane were over for Lucius Malfoy.

He supposed he should be thankful that his stay had been relatively short. And relatively painless seeing as the Dementors hadn’t returned to their posts after the war (thank Merlin). But after all of the shit he had pulled working for that crazed snake-bastard, he was lucky he hadn’t had the key thrown away on him. He had his silver tongue and obscenely full wallet to thank for that. He smiled to himself. It would all be his again. His estate and assets had been signed over to his son for safe-keeping until he was released from Azkaban.

Draco.

He had received a few letters from his son while in prison, but nothing was ever in great detail. He knew that he had a seven year old grandson named Abraxas (he cringed at the choice of names) and a five year old granddaughter named Draca. He had never seen the two, or their mother, as Draco had been married six months after his father was incarcerated.

He busied himself by cleaning up as best he could in the squalid conditions. He used some of his precious clean water to wash a portion of the accumulated dirt from his face, and an uneven-toothed comb to carefully try to tame the tangles from his long blonde hair. He ran his hands over his face. It felt thin and clammy to his touch. He sighed softly and gathered his meager prison belongings together. The comb, a pathetic-looking toothbrush, and a tattered washcloth were all the belongings he had other than the ratty black robes he had been issued the night he arrived.

He was scheduled to be released at noon, and Draco would be there to pick him up in a boat, as there was no Apparating on or off the island. He looked out his tiny barred window and judged from the sun that it was only about ten in the morning. He still had a little time to wait so he settled himself onto his narrow cot in the corner and leaned against the wall. Breakfast had already been handed out , but he found himself unable to stomach one more plate of the horrid slop they tried to pass off as sustenance. He tried to take his mind off of the slowly passing time by trying to imagine what his grandchildren looked like. He imagined that Abraxas probably looked an awful lot like Draco. He was hoping to sweet Merlin that the boy didn’t look like his name-sake. He probably wouldn’t be able to stomach being around the child. But he was at a loss to what the little girl might look like. Females were few and far between in the Malfoy line, as sons were preferred. He was quite curious to see her. He was also curious to see the woman Draco had finally chosen as a wife. Upon these uncertainties he drifted off into a light sleep.

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Please review. It's my first story. I've got more chapters for this one, but I'd like to hear what you think about the beginning.