Set Post-CoS, Lucius returns to Malfoy Manor having failed Voldemorts mission; to open the Chamber of Secrets. He is beyond reasoning and Narcissa is the one who can help. Rated M for Lemons. Please review, I welcome constructive criticism.
Disclaimer: All characters and places are owned by JK Rowling, I own nothing but my soul.
One August evening, the Sun light began to wane over Malfoy Manor. On the third floor of this stately home, the Lady of the house; Narcissa Malfoy, sat patiently in the Master bedroom, which was usually pristine and perfect.
Today, however parchment and quills lay over the floor, vials and ornaments had been shattered into tiny pieces, even the silk sheets on the four poster bed had been torn. It was as if someone had released a Hungarian Horntail in the room, in fact it was her Husband.
The day had started off quite ordinarily; Narcissa had paid a visit to Borgin and Burkes to buy 'Welcome Home Gifts' for Draco, who would be returning home from Hogwarts for the Summer very soon. She had then returned home and decided to take a well earned nap, whilst the house elves cooked a dinner in preparation for Lucius, due to return from 'business' at the School that evening.
A few hours later, Narcissa had been awoken by a high pitched squeek, coming from their bedroom. She ran to greet her husband but stopped when she saw Lucius pacing up and down the room frantically, whilst a house elf who was not Dobby cowered behind a waste bin.
'Lucius?' Narcissa asked calmly, from the safety of the doorway.
But her Husband simply kicked the waste bin, and the elf shrieked, jumping back.
'Lucius!' Narcissa said, more firmly this time, 'What on Earth did you do with the House Elf?' She asked, wondering if he had abandoned or killed Dobby.
Lucius stopped for a moment; his long, blonde hair covering his cold, grey eyes, which had narrowed on his Wife. 'Not what I did. What POTTER DID!' He spat out the last two words with venom, before sweeping his hands across the dressing table, and in turn destroying it's contents.
It had been two hours since Lucius' return from Hogwarts and he showed no signs of relenting. In this time Narcissa had watched him successfully ruin the contents of the room, excluding the arm chair she was now sitting on. The house elf had wisely left, having acted as a punch bag for his Master quite a few times within the last hour.
Narcissa had remained silent the whole time, not daring to speak. In the whole time she had been a 'Malfoy', her husband had only displayed this behaviour one or twice. But Narcissa, ever the observer, knew what this meant; Lucius was scared. And this scared her; Lucius was usually so calm, whether he was reporting to the Dark Lord or to the Daily Prophet, or torturing Muggles, he always wore his poker face. But not tonight.
She desperately tried to pick up snippets of what had provoked this irrational behaviour from her husband and through his growling and cursing, she could make out the following; Lucius' attempt at opening the Chamber of Secrets under the order of their Lord, had gone horribly wrong. Narcissa understood now.
'You are scared about what happens, if the Dark Lord returns?' Narcissa spoke for the first time in hours; her voice cut through the hostility in the room like a knife.
'Scared? Don't be preposterous woman!' Lucius spat. His head was lowered, and his back was towards his wife. Narcissa used this opportunity to drink him in; his proud, broad shoulders were concealed by an uncharacteristically crumpled, silky, black cape. Even in one of his moods, Narcissa still thought him beautiful.
'Lucius.' Naricissa said, trying to coax the truth out of him.
'Not if He returns, but when, Cissy,' Lucius turned to face her; his grey eyes were softer now. 'I have failed him, Narcissa.' He paused, before adding, 'I have failed our family.'
He was not one to admit weakness, easily. But if he were to confide in anyone, it would be her. Only she knew the real Lucius. Not the sadistic Death Eater or smug Aristocrat that graced the pages of the Daily Prophet, but the loving, dedicated Husband and Father; the Lucius she had married all those years ago. The man who would do anything to keep his family safe, the one who had risked a life as a Death Eater and who had faced imprisonment in Azkaban, just to ensure his family would have the best. Of course Lucius was often snappy and impatient, but he loved Narcissa nonetheless and by God, she knew it.
An awkward silence filled the room as Narcissa stood up, her petite frame sweeping over to him. The small blonde desperately trying to think of words of comfort, but none came. Her words would not guard him against Voldemort, and she had no intention of lying.
'How can I help, Darling? I shall do anything.' Was all Narcissa could think of, her blonde ringlets fell over her face, as she stood utterly helpless. If she could do anything for her husband, she would.
'Anything?' Lucius replied, after a few uneasy moments. His down-trodden expression had changed; the grey eyes were filled with malice, a look that sent chills down the spine of Narcissa; she knew that look well. It had been years since the Dark Lord had last been in power, but during that time she had had seen another side of Lucius; the servant of Voldemort. The malicious stranger who took out his frustration on Mudbloods, on House Elves... On her.
He strode towards Narcissa, who remained where she was. Of course Lucius would never lay a finger on her, but his gentle touch, which he reserved only for her, was occasionally corrupted by his malevolence. This was when he relieved his anger on her. When he exploited her. It hadn't always been like this, when they had spent their first night together as husband and wife, when he had taken her virginity, he had been ever so gentle and considerate of her needs.
Lucius' powerful frame, clad in a dark, tailored suit, towered over her petite one. Narcissa closed her eyes, half out of fear, half out of anticipation. As she felt the heat of Lucius' breath tickle her face, she drank in the smell of his cologne, dark and musky. A leather gloved hand suddenly grabbed her chin sharply; Narcissa snapped out of it with a gasp. She was now staring into the face of her husband, who now wore his infamous smirk.
'Why, whatever are you scared of?' He whispered to her rhetorically, before pulling off one glove with his teeth, and trailing his finger down Narcissas torso. All the while, he held her chin, his cold, grey eyes boring into hers, daring her to defy him. She accepted.
'Not like this, Lucius.' She said gently, before turning and making for the door, quickly. Narcissa enjoyed making love with Lucius, but this was something completely different. In a second, she was whipped around, and found herself writhing on their bed, pinned down by Lucius, who simply smiled sadistically at her. She wondered if this is what it felt to be a Mudblood being tortured by the Death Eaters.
He had never learnt the meaning of the word 'No'.
'Now, now Cissy... You wouldn't deny me what is clearly mine?' She closed her eyes as she felt his breath, hot against her neck. His long, blonde hair tumbled around his face and brushed against her skin. Lucius lowered himself between Narcissas legs, his weight refraining any movement. In seconds, his mouth was upon hers; his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, exploring every part of her. Narcissa fought an internal battle between mind and body; torn between struggling against him or kissing back. She chose to fight, snapping her face to side, breaking the kiss.
'Fine!' Lucius growled. Scowling, he tore down Narcissas dress, before he began to trail kisses down her neck. Focusing on one area, he nicked and sucked, trailing his tongue round in circles. Narcissa felt her breath quicken and her muscles relax as pleasure resonated through her body. She could feel Lucius hardening against her, and herself becoming increasingly moist with every touch.
Lucius had started to slip his clothing off, himself now in nothing but green, silk boxers. His warm, toned torso rubbing against Narcissas felt riveting, and she began to give up resisting. She felt him stroking locks of her golden hair, 'Now, that's not so bad is it?' He whispered mockingly.
'But of course, a little punishment never hurt anyone,' Narcissas eyes snapped open in horror but Lucius had already grabbed her hair, forcing her to sit up, whilst he kneeled over her. He unbuttoned his boxers, which fell to his knees, to reveal his long, fully erect member; an intimidating sight. Roughly forcing it into Narcissas mouth, he smirked, ordering, 'Suck.'
Narcissa had no time to act, for Lucius grabbed her hair once more, forcing her head back and forth, thrusting into her mouth. She spluttered, struggling to take in the length of him, but the vibrations simply increased his pleasure. Savouring the salty taste that started to trickle from the head of his penis, Narcissa couldn't deny that the power Lucius held over her was incredibly arousing.
'I am not done, yet!' Lucius snapped, and just as roughly as he had pushed it in, he withdrew from her mouth. This time, he effortlessly picked her up and slammed her onto the bed, knocking the air from her. Narcissa, now lying on her stomach, felt Lucius tear off her underwear and grab her hips; his nails digging in so hard, her eyes watered. 'Lucius, please-'
Her words were cut short as without warning, Lucius raised her hips up and entered her from behind; his powerful member slipping into her with ease. Narcissa let out a gasp as her husband began to pound roughly into her, delving further with each thrust. The pleasure intensified, she couldn't conceal her enjoyment anymore, and moaned into the silk sheets. Lucius smirked, quickening his pace so that the head board of the colossal bed started to bang against the wall.
Lucius flicked his hair back, as beads of sweat ran down his lithe, yet powerful torso. His thrusts became more and more powerful, his breathing quickened. He gave a thrust so powerful that it propelled Narcissa forward, causing her to lose her balance. Exploding into her, Lucius collapsed on top of Narcissa, spent. The two lay in a thick silence, pierced only by their heavy breathing. After a few minutes, her breath regained, Narcissa looked up at her husband, who was now getting changed.
'Do you feel any better, Lucius?' She asked, drained.
The tall blonde, now dressed smartly in dark green robes looked over to his Wife. This Lucius didn't resemble the one Narcissa had been with a few minutes ago; this man looked at her softly, warmly, genuinely. This was the Lucius she knew, the real Lucius. His anger had been spent. He slowly bent down and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
'Much.' He gently whispered, before turning and sweeping from the room.
