The twisting lies of fate which bind us,
tangled together
dancing like marionettes in the wind. Lucius Malfoy Director of Gringott's Real Estate Accounting
Wizengamot Official
Death Eater
Husband There's a reckoning a-coming
and it burns beyond the grave
its lead inside my belly
cause my soul has lost its way I've got blood, I've got blood on my name
when the fires, when the fires are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood on my name Not a spell gonna be broken with a potion or a priest
When you're cursed you're always hoping
that a prophet would be grieved
Can't you see I'm sorry
I will make it worth your while
Made a dead mans money
you can see it in my smile
All the emotional strength she had in her had gone out to Lucius that day. All her weaknesses were trembling, eager to flood the soft point developing in her protective walls. Ready to expose her and ruin her forever, as her mother always said emotions do. There was no sense in being emotionalâonly faking it for someone elseâs sake.
Lucius was surprisingly willing to speak candidly, in a way that made Narcissa numb and made her hurt all at once. He wanted to move forward and all she wanted was back. Back back back until she was eleven years oldâno, farther, before Andromeda and Bellatrix had begun their strife. Back to where everything was simple and she was too stupid to know what torment awaited her in her adulthood.
Rings on fingers meant nothing but endurance. Tolerance, really, was the farthest anyone could get in a pureblood marriage, and she didnât count Bellatrixâs affection for her husband as something genuine. That was pure manipulation and dependence and an expression, Narcissa saw, of tolerance.
Sheâd spent too long tolerating Lucius. Enduring his presence when it was not strictly necessary. Throwing her energy spent desiring him into Alecto, turning any statement that made her uncomfortable with their status into a fight so she could pretend it never happened. Emotions were never something Narcissa handled well. Nor, though, was her marriage.
She wished she could feel the release that Lucius was clearly feeling in this conversation. The relief of hearing the things she told him. Emotions were so pent upâhe always felt better releasing them, whether in anger or passion or conversation.
Conversation had never been Narcissaâs strongest point. Expressing this took more effort, for her, than keeping it in. And for all Lucius wantedâneededâmore, she had none more to give him. Only practicality and endurance.
âWe endure, as always. Laugh if anyone asks about it. We are fine.â Please, let us be fine.
Lucius felt the emotions bubbling inside him, and he was overcome by the irrational need to laugh. He tamped down on it, leaning forward to come his face in his hands. What was an appropriate response to your wife telling you that both merely had to endure this marriage which would never seem to have an end?
This was a part of his education in which he had never been versed. Not part of the formal system, and now he was left floundering in these waters, which were quickly rising up and over his head. Lucius could try and deny the texts, put them down to drunken fancy, and keep those feelings locked away once more.
Nodding, he brushed his hand through his hair. âSure, sure. Keep on going. Sounds like a plan.â Lucius kept his eyes facing downwards, unwilling to look up and see Narcissa, he didnât want to read her emotions or guess her intent. They would just continue to be fine. Would they be able to handle it?
âBut, do you really want things to continue the way they did before?â There never had been anything good about their relationship, no bright spark or actual enjoyment. Just mistrust and tension and sex and arguments. Every negative passion bloomed to life between them. While everyone only saw the roses, they walked amongst the thorns, and now his skin was so numb to the continuous pain.
Lucius was tired of it, the fact that he had nowhere to call his own. âHomeâ was the Malfoy legacy, a reminder of every burden and pressure placed upon his shoulders. A wife who refused to conceive and a family who needed to succeed. Did he dare to try to change it?
Looking up, he tried to catch Narcissaâs eye, to press his desperation home.âI donât want to hurt you, or continue pretending that the only feelings are apathy.â To continue to live life like it was, if he had the option, Lucius would try to break free of that dreariness, that continual ache inside. âI donât think I could do that.â
âYou are just too beautiful,too-â When Lucius looked at her, she was so much brighter than everyone else, an effortless silver that hurt. âI canât see you in a different light now, do you really want me to pretend to?â Because he could. If she willed it, Lucius would lock it all away, and try his hardest to keep going like it had before.
He stood up and took the few paces before he was standing directly infront of her. With the back of his right hand, he went to stroke her cheek, but stopped before he could touch her. Slowly, he lowered it, arms moving to wrap around his own waist. âWhat is it that you want?â
MALE DEATH EATERS. a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. (insp.) (words.)
Marcus jumped to his feet, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his shaking hand. âI can explain,â he began, the words falling from his mouth in a blur. Yaxleyâs eyes darted between his prone brother and his uninvited guest as he rushed through debating what the best course of action was. Glancing behind the Malfoy heir, he noticed the passageway back into Yaxley estate was clear behind the blonde. It would be all too easy for Lucius to turn heel and run. Yet for a split second Marcus hesitated, deliberating between the impulse to check on the well being of his brother and the self preservation of his families reputation.
âWho followed you?â He demanded, in a sharp tone. Stepping forward abruptly to throw Lucius off. If the blonde thought Marcus might attack him even after he helped to save him then hopefully he would freeze up. Marcus advanced in an intimidating fashion, maintaining the pressure on the younger man. The Auror had decided he had to deal with Lucius swiftly, he couldnât allow him to think too much on what he could do with any of this information. What Lucius had seen could go no further. No one was supposed to know about Joshua and especially not a Malfoy. It would ruin the Yaxleyâs to have this secret escape and Marcus would not allow that to happen. Not after how hard he had worked for everything.
âI asked you a simple question Malfoy.â He warned, âyouâd do well to start answering me.â Marcus pushed, pressing forward and blocking Lucius escape path. Now Lucius stood between him and the unconscious Joshua, who groaned uncomfortably where he lay. âThatâs my brother.â Marcus admitted, pointing towards the pale boy on the dirty ground. âHe is sick. Unwell.â The words came out slow and purposeful, as he formulated an excuse in his mind. âHe was being treated for his illness but heâs been⌠Unruly as of late and stole away down into the basement of our estate. Heâs not let anyone near him until now. He was calling for help so I came down to see to him.â Marcus finished, eager to draw Lucius attention to him. The basement was dark and Marcus was sure Lucius would not be able to make out many details within the room. Still, Marcus did not want to risk the possibility. Should Lucius see the set up in here there would be no telling what he could do with that information.
âI didnât know he was luring me into a trap but donât you see how unwell he is?â Marcus was almost shouting now, tone rising unsteadily as he willed Lucius to believe him. âYou must understand that my brother is unwell, he doesnât understand it sometimes but we know whatâs best for him even when he wonât accept it.â Marcus was growling now, smacking his forehead uncharacteristically. The Auror was usually a picture of calm. Cool, collected and sophisticated. Ever the professional, Marcus was used to dealing with situations under pressure but usually he had a few aces up his sleeve. Marcus always knew what was happening and where. This instance had been unplanned. Here he had nothing but a nosey trespasser and danger at his fingertips. âYou shouldnât have attacked him but I understand why you did. I can forgive that if you forget you saw him. We can draw this transgression under the carpet so to speak?â Marcus wondered what Malfoy would say. Would he play this into his own hands, or bend to Yaxleyâs will. Time seemed to tick on painfully as Lucius seemed to consider his options. âWell?â He shouted, glancing behind himself anxiously to make sure the coast was still clear.
The man was harried, making a gristly sight as the blood pooled and dried on his top lip, and Lucius raised and eyebrow, waiting for the explanation. One that didnât come, but was thrown out the window by a question. His lips tightened, and he waited for Marcus to collect his thoughts some more. Explanations were needed.
Marcus strode towards him, eyes flashing dangerously, and Lucius did have to admit that he cut an imposing sight. If not for the fact that Lucius had just helped him, he might even feel intimidated. As it was, Lucius kept his body relaxed and impassive, spinning once to keep Marcus in his line of sight. The man was a well-renowned Auror, despite his familyâs political tendencies.Â
The waiting game paid off, and Marcus eventually filled the silence between them with an explanation. But brother? Rumours of which even Lucius hadnât heard? He would have been tempted to dismiss it if not for the evidence that had just been presented to him. Marcusâ words sounded hollow, parts ringing true, but not quite slotting perfectly into place. There were still things that werenât being told to him, and Lucius had to suppress the questions that leapt to mind.
Lucius kept his eyes trained on Marcus and his wand hand, knowing that this was information he was never supposed to see. Honestly, he wouldnât put it above the other man to Obliviate him, so Lucius didnât dare relax. Marcus also didnât seem quite emotionally stable, the rising tone sending a shiver down his spine, Lucius forcing himself to relax.Â
When Marcus hit himself in the forehead, Lucius couldnât hold back the flinch, and he cursed the curiosity that brought him here, that led him into a darkened room with an Auror who looked as though they were barely holding it together.Â
At Marcusâ offer, Lucius stayed silent, mulling the options in his mind. It was obvious that Marcus wanted this hidden, but there was nothing that sprung to mind. He was still only setting off into the true waters of wizarding politics, and didnât care all too much for them. But the favour of an Auror such as Marcus wasnât anything to turn a nose up at.
âWell.â Lucius let the silence drag on between them, and took a step forwards, towards Marcus. âI can be persuaded to keep my mouth shut, to keep such a secret hidden. After all, I would never want to risk the Yaxley reputation, and on your fatherâs birthday.â Lucius kept his tone airy and light, as though doing nothing but discussing the weather, ending with a small scoff of incredulity.
Then his voice hardened and lowered, inaudible to anyone ten paces away from them, âBut this is a favour I am doing for you, Marcus Yaxley. And in the future, if there is a favour I need returning, I will be free to call upon you.â Then abruptly, it changed back to the softer brighter tone, and Lucius offered his hand. âDoes that sound agreeable to you?â
On the night of Andrew Yaxleyâs 57th birthday on the 12th of June 2010 his wife, Nora Yaxley arranged for the entire wizarding social elite to attend Yaxley estate for a rather lavish wining and dining. Unfortunately, Marcusâ evening didnât go quite as he had hoped.
Marcus tugged at his overly starched shirt collar in a vain attempt to loosen its hold on his throat. But the more he fussed, the tighter the material seemed to wrap around him, even pulling in close to his chest around his body. Frantic fingers struggled to open the top button but it seemed to be unnaturally fixed in place. The damn thing just wouldnât budge. What the hell has mother done to my clothes? He thought, irritation creeping in. Nora Yaxley had insisted on starching them for him in preparation of the eveningâs event but he hadnât thought she had meant to kill him with them! At least he considered that until he heard his sister sniggering behind him. âElsie.â Marcus growled, spinning around to confront her. âWhatever is the matter brother?â She replied, voice dripping with mock concern. âYouâre awful red.â She stated, a self-satisfied smirk stuck to her lips.
âIâm not in the mood for your games.â Marcus replied coolly, taking a step towards her and drawing his wand subtly. But she must have sensed danger, because the moment his finger grazed his wand she ran out of the room, leaving him with nothing but a smug wink. Marcus was ready to chase her when his mother abruptly stepped in front of him. Ah. Thatâs his sister ran. âI hope youâre not antagonising your brother.â Nora called out to her daughter, waving her wand and undoing whatever she had done to Marcusâ clothes. âThank you mother.â He muttered appreciatively, pocketing his wand and rubbing his neck. âSo much for a quiet drink at home with the family.â He grumbled as a familiar yelling echoed out from the depths of Yaxley manor.
âMarcus my dear, you should see to your brother. He is⌠Shouting again.â  Nora told him, concern etched across her face. If there ever was a time for Joshua to be acting up then this evening was not it. However, Marcus really did not want to be the one sent to see to him. âMother I-â He protested, pulling away from her as he spoke.
âYou will do as youâre told or so help me Marcus.â Her voice was shrill as she interrupted him, eyes aflame. It wasnât often she used a tone like that; especially not with him. Elsie was usually the subject of her disappointment whereas he was her prized son. At least he was now after years of hard work. At her words Marcus nodded, bowing low before he turned to find his brother in the bowels of the estate. He had to admit the way they treated Joshua was criminal. The young man had been reduced to little more than a prisoner in this supposed palace, only he lived without the small luxuries that came with a gilded cage. Marcus hated to be reminded of it.
He hurried along to the door leading down into the basement, passing by the first lot of guests that had been greeted into his home. Marcus smiled at the few that he passed him by in as charming a fashion as he could muster but in all honesty a horde of muggles could have passed him by and he wouldnât have noticed. Marcus reached the door at last, yanking it wide open. In his haste he forgot to close it. Marcus rushed through leaving the basement door swinging wide open for anyone, if they were so inclined, to venture into. With all the shouting Marcus really should have been more careful to ensure no one might wander down to investigate. Joshua was a dangerous secret.
Marcus burst through the basement into the wine cellar, as Joshua shouted ever louder. This felt like more than just disruption. Marcus thought his brother sounded injured, in pain perhaps. Maybe Josh had hurt himself and was trying desperately to get someone to come and help him. The sudden thought caused Marcus to sprint the rest of the way, panic over whelming him. âAlohamora!â He yelled, bursting into his brotherâs room. The boy was a squib so they locked him up in the only way he was guaranteed to never escape from. It was cruel really.
Marcus struggled to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Did they really allow his brother to live in the dark like this? It felt as though he hadnât seen Joshua in so long. A pang of guilt rang through his chest with the realisation that he hadnât. Casting lumos wordlessly, he held his wand up high. âJosh?â He called out, gingerly stepping forward into the black. âJoshua itâs me. Marcus. Where are you? Mother wants you to be quiet I-Josh? Are you alright?â Marcus walked further into the room, his foot finding glass. There was a loud crunch and then suddenly his brother was tackling him to the floor. In a flurry of limbs, Marcus was certain his brother had managed to break his nose. âJosh! Josh itâs me! Itâs your brotherâ He cried out, shielding his face from the onslaught.
At that Joshua laughed. A sharp howling, bitter laughter that captured the essence of a mad man. âBrother?â He questioned with a hiss, elbowing Marcus roughly in the jaw with his deformed arm. Marcus grunted in pain, reaching for his face. He could feel blood running down his nose. Joshua pushed himself up off the ground with his good arm, leaving a rather shocked Marcus on the floor. âI have no brother.â He spat.
Lucius stepped into the Manor, face and expression gentle as he congratulated Nora Yaxley, then Andrew, as they stood by the door, welcoming people in. He had arrived just after the throng of people, at the perfect time. A Malfoy always had to be perfect, especially when this was one of the rare few times when he had been allowed to such an event by himself.Â
He continued through the corridor, when greeted by a very harried Marcus. Something akin to either concern or curiosity flared within him, as Lucius was tempted to follow, though he knew he couldnât afford to make a single mistake tonight.
But the curiosity continued to tug, and Lucius sighed, dissapearing down a corridor to follow Marcus through the swinging door, not quite closing it behind him, not knowing what he might discover in the darkness of the Yaxley Manor. Merlin forbid no-one was dumb enough to do anything similar in the Malfoy Manor.
With his wand out, but no spell yet on his lips, as a sudden shout echoed through the halls. Lucius flinched, but his lips tightened into a determined line, and his mind focused further on the dim light that illuminated his way. Then there was another shout, akin to an animal in pain, and the pounding of hurried footsteps, before an Alohamora sounded. What were they hiding down here?Â
Then there was the sound of flesh against flesh, and Lucius sped his pace slightly, wand still pointed ahead of him, the names of three dozen offensive spells ready to leap free. Then a voice like Marcus shouted out, and Lucius cursed, again speeding his pace as he turned a corner, before stopping dumb at the sight.
There was a young boy crouched over the prone form of Marcus, one hand missing, hair wild around his face, thin and skin paler than any normal human had the right to be. Then he looked up, and their gazes met, and Lucius was startled by the sheer anger that lay in them.
Automatically, Lucius waved his wand, quickly casting a Binding and Silencing spell, waiting to hear the thump of a body before moving forward to scan Marcus, as blood poured from his nose.
âNice seeing you here.â Lucius smirked, too many thoughts colliding in his head as he automatically assumed the cold mask, features impassive as he looked down at the other. Could this be used to his advantage? What was going on here? Who was the boy? Why had Marcus called him brother?
She saw his vulnerability and would have felt disgusted if she werenât locked in a battle to control her own, knuckles whitening under the strain of her fight reflex overpowering that of flight. There was too much tension in the room and between themâone of them had to snap, and it was always Lucius whose temper became the outlet. Narcissa did not have a temper: she swallowed everything.
His outburst relieved some of the steam building up in her, though. Luciusâ temper was something she could handle much more easily than his vulnerability. Narcissa flinched automatically when he raised his voice, but she released the chair and started to move around it, toward him, a hesitant step halted as she forced herself to look at him before making any more motions.
He muttered something under his breath. She assumed it was a rude comment intended to incite things if sheâd heard itâthey always solved their disagreements with insults turned to passionâand bit her tongue instead of make him repeat it. If he wanted a fight, he should have said it louder; she was not going to indulge him this time.
She rubbed one foot against the back of the other leg, breathing through her nose and then her mouth, trying to find a balance inside her somewhere that would allow her to say the words currently choking her. Narcissa had never learned to talk the way most people could: her emotions never found words in a household where feelings caused more problems than they solved. Explaining her thoughts, intentions or actions was a struggle she rarely had to face. Luciusâ emotions combusted with his anger; Narcissaâs froze over.
The words he chose were bitter and accurate. She had never stopped blaming him for the stunting of her adolescence. Mrs. Malfoy was not a title that fit her, still, after all these years. Her parents, in truth, were more to blame than her husband; Andromeda even more so. Narcissa had spent years placing her anger in the center of her marriage, preventing Lucius from coming too close. Preventing anyone from getting inside the protective barriers she had built since Alice.
As always, the errant thought of her former friend sent a shock through her teeth and fingernails and she clenched them both. The magic she and Alice once shared was dangerous now.
That, she could swallow and compartmentalize; Lucius she had to handle now. Bizarrely, even without an outburst of her own, she felt exhausted. Narcissa moved toward him, not stopping until sheâd reached the table between them and sat on it. It was a glass-top ridiculous thing, purely for decoration because its reflective surface smudged too easily to actually use it. Pressing the print of her palms into its clear top was satisfying. She hated everything about their pristine lives, anyway.
The short walk had given her enough momentum to begin to speak, though her words were not carefully chosen. Narcissa could speak primly when prepared; she never trusted improvisation. âDonât apologize for my familyâs orchestrations.â In contrast to Luciusâ impassioned words, Narcissa was quiet with an illusion of calm, channeling her frustrations through her limbs into the plush carpeting beneath her feet. âYou didnât knowâbefore. That any of this would beâŚâ Breathe, Cissy. Donât think. Just breathe.
Strangely, the voice in her head was not her own, but Bellatrixâs.
ââŚless than ideal for me. That wasnâtâŚsomething you could predict.â
It was the largest sincere speech she had likely ever made in Luciusâ presence, and all her resolve could manage for now.
That was hesitancy, wasnât it? Not a game, not a coy step forwards when she paused or when she looked up at him, breathing deliberate. His every muscle was tense, anticipating some sort of outburst, either from her or himself, the emotions inside him, flaring and sparking until it felt like a thousand spells releasing, and he had no way of describing the roil of something in his stomach.
Or was that anger, her knuckles whitening as she stood by the chair, and then again in the center of the room, her lips pressed tight as though trying to prevent the words from flying out and attacking him. Would it be anything more than he deserved? Would he be able to take it?
Or was it determination and understanding, as she moved infront of him with the grace of a otherworldly queen, bearing and poise that made him feel insignificant as he stayed seated infront of her. Lucius couldnât bear to look up.
But then she sat, and they were at equal levels, as they always had been, giving and taking and taking for themselves, as was the way that they only knew how, unable to deal with their own humanity. But he stayed until he exploded, while Narcissa never seemed to crack, the perfect pureblood bride.Â
Yet here they were, exchanging words of emotion, and it felt like the world was going to end. Then her words filtered through, and something in the air changed between them. Was she forgiving him? Narcissa had always blamed him for the direction that their lives had met and then continued in, blamed him for destroying what she had. Somehow, though, there was no lie here.
Lucius took the words and held them close to himself, letting them emblazon itself across his heart and brain, feeling some of the tension in him begin to bleed away. âI-.â His voice cracked, and Lucius had to look away again, away from the serenity and peace and forgiveness and goodness that she excluded. âThank you.â
There was something more that he should say, some similar token of appreciation or something, but the words, for once, fell dead upon his tongue. A flicker of panic sparked when the moment continued to stretch, and Lucius tried âBut that doesnât mean my decision was right. There are many things I have done wrong since we started this relationship, and many of them I regret.â
He didnât want them to start the relationship again, as though the misunderstandings had never happened, or to âturn a new leafâ and change everything. Yet he couldnât bear to continue the way they had been, or without the knowledge he now had. That he did, in fact, love her.
âHow are we going to continue, with these words, and that text, hovering between us? What should -â I? We? You? âWhat can I do for you?â
Do we bleed the same too? | Alecto & Lucius | August 3, 2015
@plansandpower
Alecto recognized the tapping of Stephenâs owl not so familiar but memorable for the few times it had brought her life-changing news. Thin lids fluttered shut over weary reddened eyes. Her entire body seemed to ache from the impact of so much recent news and she wasnât sure how much more of it she could take. A glance at her calendar showed a faint glow over a date that made it the likely reason behind the owl clear. Stephen toleratedâŚeven expected by this point⌠her occasional two or three day disappearances but a week was where he drew the line. She knew this. Sheâd known it on Friday when sheâd promised herself that the weekend was the last of her hiding away. The chiming of her mobile had slowed near to stopping after sheâd swiped around enough to erase her posts off her page but her nerves refused to do the same. Especially when her mind ventured hungrily towards one of the new morsels of scandal she had gathered from friend and foe alike and then recoiled at the realization that those same people could very well be doing the same with her own spilled secrets. Sheâd spent most of Friday and Saturday resolutely miserably sober in preparation but then sheâd opened Saturnalia to type out a message to Narcissa and found Luciusâ bedroom eyes and sentiments awaiting her.Â
The quiet tapping sounded againâŚit  pounded painfully behind her eyes but a twinge of guilt - pulling hard at the twisted river of fear whose flooding ravages had hardly calmed back to its banks - twisted in her chest and prompted motion from her prone position on the couch. Swallowing back nausea Alecto made her way to the window to relieve the bird of itâs message and watch it hop patiently onto her desk clearly expecting a response. She set the message aside - well aware that whatever admonishments or worries it contained would only make her feel even more like crawling into the tempting darkness and warmth of her bedroom - and jotted out a quick reply promising her imminent arrival instead. She pulled herself together opting for a pair of dark sunglasses and a charm to conceal the worst of the exhaustion that excess left in its wake.Â
The morning light and bustle of the street outside of her flat was nearly enough to send her cringing back inside but she gathered her tattered resolve and started in the direction of Nova forgoing the usual detour to her favorite cafe. It didnât take more than five blocks chock full of too many people and a seemingly unreasonable number of screaming children before she realized just how much a mistake it was to attempt to have anything like productive face to put on for Stephen without an infusion of caffeine. She ducked into the next cafe at random and stood in a line of well-dressed wixen counting off the seconds impatiently. When she was finally able to reach the counter the witch tending it looked upâŚonly for her eyes to skitter over Alectoâs face in favor of settling on somethingâŚsomeone that made her smile with a careful dose of respectful charm. âMr. Malfoy, can I get you your usual?â Irritation burned a familiar path over already raw nerves as she turned to fix her eyes on the source of her frustration. Was there anything she needed that that man wasnât determined to rub his dirty fingers on?Â
An ordinary day in an ordinary shop with an ordinary calendar and everything was ordinary. Lucius wasnât sure whether to be disgusted or relieved that the world somehow managed to continue spinning seemingly harmlessly despite the constant barrage of news that flew out with every passing second, the political and social worlds in upheaval.
But it was an ordinary day with an ordinary agenda, and Lucius was determined to get through it without any added drama. So into an ordinary shop, with the ordinary reaction to his name, and he ordered an ordinary drink. While he seemed to be interrupting the person in front of him, they were merely a child with a terrible hangover, so he ordered âVanilla Bean Macchiato to go.â
The server then nodded and everyone behind the counter spun into activity, as though trying to get him out of the shop as quickly as possible. Or maybe they just didnât want to make him impatient. Lucius shrugged under his robes, a slight movement that rustled his robes as he stood, causing the serves to, if anything, hurry into faster action.
His grey eyes then turned to examine the rest of the room, before landing back on the girl standing infront him, still staring at him. Alecto Carrow. He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the familiar surge of annoyance that came every time she was mentioned. She was far too close to his wife for any decent amount of comfort, as much as he tried to brush it off. âRough night, Carrow?â
He answered in half-jokes delivered too seriously, looking perfectly collected and unfazed when her heart felt cold and heavy. It was beating in her throat as he approached, all of her willpower going into refusing to take a step back but keeping her eyes on him. She couldnât see the struggle on his face: only flickers of what could be guilt, regret, or embarrassment.
If anyone could make a lie seem genuine, it was Lucius. But if he were lying about this he would not be so blank-faced. He would perform for her, convince her, place his fingertips on every weakness she had and pry forgiveness from her breath. He would have stepped forward and not back, his body positioned as if he had not yet stopped considering turning away entirely. If this were a manipulation, he was pulling it off astonishingly well.
Because no matter how vulnerable he looked, he could be doing this to trick her. This could be a massive manipulationâshe wouldnât put it past any pureblood in their society. Narcissa gripped the back of a chair, fighting her urge to look away from his face (gentler, all of a sudden, his severe lines softening) and run back through the doorway into the bedroom.
Her breath caught in her chest; her eyes were brimming but not spilling over. âSorry for what?â she asked him, blinking fast to clear her vision.
Did she feel as he did? Or was that disgust on her face, and not the pain that was in his own heart, weighing heavily on his chest and throat? Was she gripping the chair in anger, frustrated that their established relationship had been torn around them, his sudden confession rocking something that wasnât supposed to change? Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the light, blinking fast. In anyone else, he might try to comfort, but here he felt as though he were swimming, lost, in an endless sea.
One hand came up to rub his forehead, eyes looking to the side, unable to face her fully, unable to try and figure out what lay in her gaze. Lucius licked his lips, then swallowed, trying to sort out the mess of noise and emotions and nonsense inside his own head. âIâm sorry for, for -â
He paused, then breathed in, his hand moving away from his face, moving wildly in the air before stopping, tightening into a fist as he breathed out again, and then tried again. âFor messing up our relationship, for pulling you into a marriage that you didnât want, for having to face such a public scandal, for challenging you, for ruining your fucking life!âÂ
Luciusâ mouth snapped shut again, hand dropping back down to his side, gaze resolutely pointed at the ground. Then underneath his breath, he murmured, barely louder than a breath, âBut Iâm not sorry that I love you.â
The news of Luciusâ death was more a grim reality than a life altering blow to Bella. Sure, she missed him, he was a vibrant person in her life. But more importantly, it destroyed Cissy. Her face was pale and sullen, she spend days awake but weeks asleep. She now lead a half life, one Bella tried to help with.
After she heard the news, Bella asked Rod if she could move in with Cissy for a little, just to get her back on her feet. Rod agreed of course, Narcissa had been lost at sea since Luciusâ death. The windows and curtains closed, Cissy herself clammed up. Refused help, or even time to grieve properly, she just hid from the world, consumed herself in pain.
Bella arrived and swiftly found her sister passed out in Luciusâ clothes. She carried her to bed, tucked her in and began setting the elves to help. They cleaned, cooked and perfected the house. They opened windows, let in light and let the Malfoy residence breathe again. She had not had enough time to truly connect well with Malfoy, but he wouldnât want Cissy to do this. Death should only have been his end, not herâs too.
When Narcissa awoke, she tried to fight Bella. Screaming how it should have been her, or Rod, or anyone else. It hurt, God it hurt knowing your sister wished you dead, so her husband could live. But Bella tolerated it. Narcissa was still slightly drunk, but definitely hurt. Her eyes never seemed to dry, but Bella coped. Made her bathe and eat, let her stay in a new set of Luciusâ clothes. Love would always be the downfall of the Black family. Surprising for a family said to have no hearts.
The Funeral was set a few weeks after Bella moved in. This was probably the most responsible she had been since childhood. Her baby sister was in so much pain, so broken over death. It was hard for Bella to see the result of something she caused with almost no repercussions. Death seemed frustratingly out of time. Her sister should have had time with Malfoy. A good life, but other plans were made.
The service was small, family members, a few friends. Nothing shabby, but personal. It seemed more intermate that way. Cissy didnât want to say anything, her eulogy was one between herself and him, no others. She asked Bella to do the performance eulogy. Bella had several queries, like how they didnât know each other, or really cared for each other but Narcissa had none of it. bella apparently was the only one trusted with this.
The time had arrived to somehow prove this manâs worth in front of people here mainly for free food. It seemed so unfair, she thought sheâd better point that out.
âLucius Malfoy was a man I hadnât had the pleasure to truly meet yet. Of course we saw and knew each other, but as Cissy will tell you, we hadnât bonded all that closely. To me, he was still the man who stole the heart of my littlest sister. But from what I had seen, he was a good man. Cissy was the happiest sheâd ever been. Always smiling and laughing, telling me about the hilarious antics theyâd do. She was in love, and I guess as a sister I was too. Malfoy was reasonably laid back, not too controlling but proud. He cared about few things, but those little things he protected with everything he had. Lucius was a handsome man as many agree, Narcissa really did get lucky there.â Bella giggled recalling now bittersweet memories. âHe carved good paths for some of us. Made sure we were okay, he wasnât one to wear emotions on his sleeves. But the more you observed, the more you saw. Lucius, I will always be thankful for the life you gave my sister. Though we may not have always seen eye to eye, I did respect you. Iâm never gonna say that again, I hope you knew lots of things. Like how youâre life was good, and how tragic it is that you were ripped from it. The hole in our lives might never heal from losing you, but we can honor your memory in our lives. I hope wherever you are, you found peace. Goodbye, old friend.â
Bella placed down her bouquet, a bunch of Black Roses with one single White Rose in itâs middle. She took her husbandâs hands and walked towards the house, leaving Narcissa in peace to say her own Goodbye. Bella meant what she said, Lucius Malfoy really did deserve peace.
Strolling down Diagon Alley, knuckles occasionally bumping against each other as they walked, Lucius and Narcissa spoke fondly to each other, with warm gazes and the hint of a smile at the corners of their mouths. Outside Madam Malkins, they separated with a kiss on the cheek, Lucius turning to go do his own shopping. Narcissa made her way into the racks of robes in the shop, until she felt someone take and tug on her hand.
Quickly pulled aside, Narcissa had her wand pointed in Alectoâs face before slowly lowering it, both with apologetic looks. They both paused, before Alecto slumped, leaning against the wall and she ran her fingers through her hair. âWhat do you see in him Cissa? What about him, is it the money, the sex, the family? I see the way that you look at him and I canât help feeling slightly replaced!â
When her voice rose in volume, Narcissa shuffled forwards, raising one finger to silence her. She could still feel the euphoria of her earlier orgasm (where he knelt between her legs in the foyer of the Manor) dancing along her nerves, sparking a thought in her. Narcissa shuffled forwards again, spreading Alectoâs legs with one of her own.
âDo you want me to tell you?â Narcissa leant forwards to kiss her, soft and short, pulling away before it had properly began. âDo you want me to tell you how he fucks me, how he kisses me, how his fingers feel against my skin?â Alecto looked at her with this confused gaze, though her pupils were growing and her breaths were becoming shaky.
With one hand, Narcissa pulled up Alectoâs dress, tucking it around her waist to reveal red lace. âOr do you want to know where we fucked? On the table in his study, in the changing rooms at Deliahâs Outfits, in a backroom at the Parvatil party, with his hand over my mouth so no-one would hear me?â One hand laced with Alectoâs, held against the wall, the other stealing up  to rub against her bra. âFinger yourself, Alecto.â
With a gasp, Alectoâs free hand moved down, slipping behind the fabric to move against her slit. âDo you want me to tell you about how he holds me against the wall as he fucks me, open shirt brushing against my back? Or do you want me to tell you how his fingers felt as they fucked my pussy, mouth leaving hot trails up my stomach, thumb brushing against my clit until Iâd orgasmed twice?â
Narcissa pulled her hand away from under Alectoâs dress, moving to fist the hair at the nape of her neck, before leaning forwards to hungrily claim her mouth in a kiss. âYou can imagine it, canât you, his cock sliding in and out of your wet cunt, thicker and harder than your fingers, and you canât do anything but moan.â Alecto squinted, trying to think through the haze and form words âThatâs not true, I would-, he-â Her voice was stilled and broke off into a high keen when Narcissa tightened her grip in her hair, forcing it backwards to expose her neck.
âDonât lie. I can feel it, youâre so horny. When he stands there and watches as you fuck yourself, and you show off every technique in hope that you can see his mask break and shatter but it doesnât work until your mouth is around his cock and you tease, dragging him closer and closer to the edge each time, when youâre both so desperate that you can hear nothing but fuck.â
At that, Alecto moaned, a litany of swears pouring out of her mouth as her hand moved desperately, rubbing against her clit as her back arched against the wall, every muscle in her body tightening. Narcissa let her ride it out, grinning. Once both their breathing returned more to normal, she leant forwards for a final kiss, before turning on her heel and making her way out the shop to find Lucius and get home and the nearest flat surface.
Lucius rolled off her, panting slightly, muscles trembling in exhaustion. Narcissa chuckled, willing her own breathing to settle as she curled onto her side, cleaning them both off with a quick spell. They were both settling into a soft afterglow, where the world seemed just a little brighter and the prospect of emotions less daunting.
âWhat would you say about adding a third?â Lucius jerked from where he was laying, turning to look Narcissa in the eye. âDid you really just say that?â She nods, then throws a leg over his hip to drag him forwards, closer to her. âYou get another person to control, to fight against. I get another person to make me orgasm. You get two girls wanting to fuck you. I say we try it.â
Itâs obvious that the gears in Luciusâ mind are churning, trying to overcome the initial shock of such an outlandish suggestion, evaluating the concept. âI presume you already had someone in mind for this?â Narcissa nods, twice in quick succession, before leaning forwards for a kiss that will distract them both.
Alecto received the message and spent a while thinking about it before answering. Actually going to the Manor to talk to Narcissa, while Lucius was still in the country. She knew what would happen, Narcissa had made it clear in their last meeting (Alecto rubs her legs together with the memory) and the text. She sends back âYes.â
In the tightest black dress in her wardrobe, and the tallest pair of red fuck-me stilettos, Alecto arrives on their doorstep, shoulders tight, biting her lip without noticing. Narcissa answers the door with a smile and a thrice-over, and approving smile on her lips. Some of the tension bleeds out of Alectoâs body, hands settling by her sides.
They move upstairs, into a cozy room with large windows, sunlight streaming down on a table laid for two. Alecto glances around, before settling opposite Narcissa. They have tea and biscuits, shared with awkward small talk, until Narcissa huffs and stands, moving to straddle Alectoâs lap. One finger lifts her chin, and she leans forward for a soft kiss, before pulling away.
âKiss her again.â Alecto starts, pulling her head away to stare guilty at Lucius, whoâs standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a bored expression. She fights the blush and instead cocks an eyebrow, a silent challenge. He just smirks, and crosses his arms, motioning with a wave. âKiss her.â
Narcissa grins, then leans forward for a deeper kiss, nipping at her bottom lip, parting them with her tongue. Once they both pull away to breathe, Lucius sighs from his vantage point, a sharper tone to his voice. âI know you can do better. Kiss her again.â Alecto canât help the shiver that races down her spine at the commanding tone in his voice, and at the challenge in Narcissaâs eyes. (Thereâs also jealousy mixed in there, that she could never get Narcissaâs eyes to light up like that until they were both drugged, until they were - ) the taste of Narcissa against her tongue was startling, drawing her out of her thoughts and into the flavour of her lip gloss and the feeling of her teeth and -
When they pause for breath, Alecto glances up at Lucius, sees him playing with his bottom lip, finger dragging against it as his mouth parts and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. And fuck if it isnât one of the hottest things that sheâs seen, then Narcissaâs tugging the hem of Alectoâs dress up, and his gaze sharpens on her and her breath hitches in her throat, desperate need starting to course through her.
With a few tugs, Narcissa has the black lace underwear thrown to one side, a finger sliding between her lips to press up, slipping in easily. Alectoâs back arches and her head stares up at the ceiling as she tried to focus on her breathing, hands clenching on the arm rest as Narcissa adds another finger, and then another, slowly moving in and out of her, curling her fingers so they brush against her G-spot with each stroke. Her mouth licks a stripe from her navel to her waist, before sucking on a patch of skin on her hip, and it takes everything for Alecto to not moan.
Then Narcissa uses her thumb to press and rub against her clit, and Alectoâs breaths are turning ragged, trying her best to hold onto the threads of control which are slipping outside her grasp. âMake her beg.â Luciusâ voice is so sharp in her mind, addressed only at Narcissa, and Alecto clamps her lips shut in an attempt to defy him.
But then Narcissa starts to tease her towards the edge, over and over again, slowing down every time her thighs clench and her breath stills. Itâs getting painful, sheâs so achingly desperate, the need bursting behind her eyes as she tries to stop the words from falling from her lips. âFuck-â She cuts herself off, mouth snapping shut as she writhes on the chair, groaning as Narcissa slowly pulls out, the tips of her fingers tracing small circles until she cracks, âPlease, fuck, please just, fucking, please.â The last word drags out in a long breath, and she hears Lucius chuckle from where heâs standing.
But still, Narcissa doesnât move, until Alecto hears a step behind her and then a hand is in her hair and someone is kissing her, hard and dirty, the slightest amount of stubble sending shockwaves against her sensitive skin. And Narcissa is finger fucking her hard, brushing up against her clit with each stroke and Alecto orgasms with a shout, swallowed by Luciusâ mouth.
When Alecto manages to open her eyes, Lucius and Narcissa are wrapped around each other, arms looped around waists and shoulders, and Lucius has one hand tangled at the nape of her neck. Sheâs slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, pausing, hands splayed against the white material as he tilts her head back, sucking a stripe under her jaw to the hollow of her neck.
Alecto shifts on her chair, and both their attentions snap to her, arms still locked around each other, their heads turning to face her. She canât help feel small under their twin gazes, hard and assessing as they scan her disheveled state. A reassuring smile touches Narcissaâs face, while a harder smirk graces Luciusâ. She quirks an eyebrow and makes to stand, but then Lucius pulls her up and pushes her to the door, where she stumbles before regaining balance, straightening her dress with a few tugs and her cheeks turning slightly red. She canât help but be acutely aware as to how dressed the couple still are, Narcissaâs hair still perfect and Luciusâ tie pin glinting on his chest.
âBedroom, now.â Lucius points at the door and they both hurry to obey, the two women kissing each other at the door, quick and soft, before turning to look at Lucius. âAlecto, on the bed, and get that stupid dress off. I want to see what Narcissa likes so much.â Alecto grins, teeth and a promise, sauntering over to the bed with an exaggerated sway to her hips. Slowly, she slips one arm out, then the other, before pulling it down her body, leaving the black fabric in a pile of the floor, and her dressed in nothing but a black lace bra.
Glancing up, she meets two hungry gazes, and Lucius smirks again, but the blown pupils of his eyes tell her she did well. Alecto tries to stifle the victorious feeling, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it slowly fall to the floor between them. His gaze sharpens again, and she gives him a wink before turning. Sauntering over to the bed, she hears the zip of Narcissaâs dress slide down, and she rolls onto the bed to face them, lying back onto the many pillows. âLike what you see?â Alecto challenges, letting her legs fall open just a touch, arms spreading to relax on the bed. Lucius tilts his head, considering, âI can see the appeal.â And Narcissa hums at this, kicking her clothes away and leaning forward to kiss him.
His lips part eagerly, and her hands come up to loosen his tie, undoing the knot completely so that she could throw it aside without breaking the kiss. Then Narcissa moves to kiss his jaw, his neck, moving down his chest as she undid the buttons on his shirt, leaving him to arch and throw his head back as her mouth sucks on each nipple, drawing them into peaks as his hand fists in her hair, urging her on.
When his shirt fully falls open, Lucius allows himself to savour the moment, before moving back and using Narcissaâs arm to tug her upwards and backwards, until the back of her legs hit the bed. He pushes again, and she falls backwards, head lying between Alectoâs legs. Lucius suppresses a smirk at the picture, slapping Narcissaâs thigh. âGet on with it then.â
Narcissa grins, then turns around to face Alecto, crawling up to hover over her, before dipping down for a soft kiss. A kiss that slowly gets harder and more passionate as it goes on, until Alecto groans and grinds their hips together. With a vicious grin, Narcissa pulls Alectoâs hands over her head and keeps them pinned against the bed, ignoring the way that she bucks up against her. Slowly, Narcissa started grinding against her, eyes closing briefly every time Alecto struggled upwards, which did nothing but push them together, faster and harder. Narcissa starts dragging out each movement, hovering over Alectoâs body until sheâs panting for it, face flushed between her arms.
Suddenly, Alecto twists up, trying to take advantage of Narcissaâs aroused state, trying to win, though Narcissa responded with quick movements, throwing her body down against the younger witch so she couldnât move. Then Narcissaâs hands on Alectoâs wrists were covered by colder ones, and Lucius was standing above the both. He motioned with his head for her to continue, pushing away her hands with his own.
She darted a quick smile at him, licking her lips, then started dragging light fingertips down Alectoâs arms and body until she was shivering and biting her lip in an effort to not moan. Luciusâ hands kept her in place, unable to do anything but writhe as Narcissa bent down to lick a line along her inner thigh, then jumping up to bite at her hip, soothing the mark with her tongue.
Steadying herself, Narcissa spreads Alectoâs lips with two fingers, waiting a moment before abruptly licking a path from her entrance to her clit, riding the involuntary buck of her hips. Slender fingers press and rub, sliding in place next to her tongue. Narcissaâs free hand smooths up her side, sliding to cup her breast, flicking and twirling the peak of her sensitive nipple. When she finds a sensitive spot near the hood of Alecto's clit, she lingers, swirling her tongue until Alecto cries out, and then she moves on, finally sucking her clit into her mouth.
Alecto bucks and moans, throwing her arms up against Luciusâ constraints, her head arching back against the pillows, incomprehensible words spilling out of her mouth as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Narcissa dips the tip of her tongue into Alectoâs entrance as she slowly draws to a close, sending her into a final wave of trembling aftershocks.
Narcissa surged forwards, capturing Luciusâ lips in her own both of them leaning over Alecto as her chest continued to heave. Narcissa wrapped one hand around the back of his head, and shuffled to the side of Alecto to press up against him, and at some point he must have gotten rid of the last of his clothing, but she doesnât care because all she wants is skin.
He seems to understand this, and pushes back with equal intensity, one arm coming around her waist to pull her in closer, the other tucking behind her neck to deepen their kiss, Narcissa moaning around it with a filthy sound.
Her hand reaches down and strokes him a few times until he pushes her down to the bed, hearing her land softly, hair bouncing around her face like a halo. His elbows come on either side of her face as he kisses her again. Lucius used one hand to reach down and press one finger against her entrance, feeling just how wet and eager she was, even as she moaned into his mouth in obvious agreement.
Lucius pressed in with a second finger, then a third, making sure that Narcissa was loose and open before pushing in, letting out a single moan that he tried to muffle in her mouth. She grinned against his mouth, then rolled her hips up against him. He stiffened, then rolled back, steadily increasing speed until he felt them both near the edge, panting and muscles tightening across his body.
He forced himself to slow down, not wanting things to be over too quickly, leaning down to fasten his mouth around one nipple, teasing at it with his teeth until her back was arched against him, âFuck, please, Lucius, please, fuck, please.â He grinned, then pulled out, brushing against her clit.
Narcissa collapsed against the bed with a silent scream, seeing nothing but stars as she shuddered, pleasure sparking behind her eyes. Lucius leant down to suck at her neck while she tries to recover, hands tightly twisted in the sheets as she pants.
Lucius kneels on the bed as both the women recover, a smirk on his lips as he watches them try to bring their scattered wits back together, idly stroking himself, fingers dancing over his own body as he waits, eyes dipping closed when his fingers press behind his balls, or stroke a line down his waist, or against his collarbone.
The last one wasnât him, but Narcissa, as she was finally able to sit up and take advantage, Alecto still lying on the bed and watching him with hooded eyes. Her fingers stroke similar lines against her own body, mouth open and cheeks flushed.
Narcissaâs lips traced slow circles down to his navel, and Lucius threads one hand into her hair, not pushing, but a warm weight. She dips lower, before taking the tip of his cock into her mouth, then licking along the base, the heat of her tongue against the vein. The grip in her hair tightens, and Narcissa relents, moving back to slowly take more and more of him in her mouth.
Lucius started to tremble in an effort to not jerk and drive in, Narcissa moving slowly, then gradually faster. Alecto decided to get involved in the action again, and leaned up to wrap her arms around his shoulders and kiss him, tongue delving in. Lucius couldnât hold it back, but arched his back, driving his cock further into the warm heat of Narcissaâs mouth.
In response, she just moaned, speeding up, her hand coming up to take place when her mouth couldnât. Alecto had her hand in her crotch, fingers fucking herself furiously as she groaned into Luciusâ mouth, one hand scratching desperately against his spine and neck.
He bucks, then feels all his muscles tighten as he buries himself deep within Narcissaâs mouth, as her eyes close and she moves up to kiss his jaw as he shakes and orgasms against their stomachs and chests, a long groan dragged out of his chest until he collapses against himself, only the two womenâs arms around him keeping him upright.
At Luciusâ groan, Alecto echoes it, fingers pumping in and out of herself as she shakes, thumb brushing over her clit to send her over the edge again, turning boneless and causing them all to collapse against the bed.
Narcissa grins, then traces a spiral on Luciusâ chest, her smirk clear in her voice as she says, voice hoarse and low, âHow about round 2 in the showers?â
