The Beginnings of a Death Eater—Chapter Twelve

"Master Lucius?" Dobby dodged the shoe thrown at him, then stuck his head around the corner again, huge ears drooping warily. "Master Lucius has a guest."

Lucius paused, arm upraised in mid-air, his other shoe at ready. "Who?" Probably Severus, his mother let him visit via floo network, but if it was one of those Goyle or Crabbe imbeciles, he wasn't interested.

"Miss Black, Master Lucius." The elf cringed, expecting a tirade, a flurry of tossed objects, or both.

Bellatrix? he thought numbly. He'd told her not to come here! But the elf said Miss Black, not Mrs. Lestrange. He closed his book, heaved himself out of the chair, and walked past the cowering elf, forgetting he was even there. His step quickened to think it might be Narcissa. But why would she come in the middle of her own party? She wouldn't, of course! That idiot Dobby must have meant Mrs. Black, who was one of the last people on Earth he wanted to talk to! He made a mental note to throttle the creature the next time he saw it.

By the time he reached the parlor he'd formulated his excuse for leaving the party early: He didn't feel well. Lame, he knew, but it was the best he could come up with.

"Mrs. Bl—Narcissa!" he exclaimed. A spate of emotions ran through him, though he honestly wasn't sure which ones to latch onto. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip. "I have no right to come after everything I said and did to you." When he didn't respond right away, her face fell. How could she have expected him to act like none of it had taken place? Nevertheless, she forged on. "Bella told me you're still a—well, that you didn't really do anything with Roxie. I'm sorry I didn't believe you and I embarrassed you and hurt you." Standing there dejectedly in her voluminous party dress, white-blond hair meticulously braided, lovely face looking so woeful it made his heart melt, it was all Lucius could do not to sweep her into his arms.

"I forgive you," he said softly. He offered his hand, which she took, and he pulled her close until their faces met. "It doesn't matter, I don't care about any of that." He wiped a few tears trickling down her cheeks. "Don't cry, honey, it's alright."

"No, it isn't. I was horrible to you, I thought evil things about you. I even tried to hex you with an engorgement charm, only I hit some Hufflepuff by mistake."

Thinking of it, Lucius began to chuckle. He could definitely say he was glad she'd missed him! "That's all passed. If you can answer yes to this, we can pretend none of this ever happened. Do you still love me?"

"Lucius! Of course I do! Why else would I be here?"

"Guilty conscience?" he teased.

She threw her arms around his neck and he crushed her to him; their lips met in a frenzy of desire. Her hands played through his hair, stroking and caressing as she pulled him so close it took her breath away. How she loved his hair, his face, his everything! No slouch either, he kissed her frantically as if afraid she might disappear at any second, running his lips over her face, neck, throat, compelling himself to stop before he lost himself in regions he had no business exploring.

"Narcissa," he gasped between smooches, "I've missed you so much."

"Me, too," she breathed.

"We have to make it official. Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

They resumed snogging for what seemed ages to the house elf skulking in the background. Dobby was pleased because if Master Lucius was happy, he was less likely to throw things at Dobby or berate Dobby or kick Dobby. He hoped they would continue this odd human custom for a long time. No such luck.

At length Narcissa pulled back slightly, her blue eyes troubled. "Lucius, I know you told the truth about Roxie, but have you ever lied to me?"

"What?" he asked, puzzled at the sudden change. His eyes pierced hers, searching for clues. Did she suspect he'd been with someone else? And if so, why? "No." Then, rethinking his position, he amended, "Not lied. Avoided the truth, you could say, about Ivan. That's all. I promise you now, no more lies, no half truths, no omissions. You're my wife, my life, and I won't hold back anything you want to know."

"Can I get that in writing?" she grinned.

He smiled. God, it was so good to hold her, to feel her, to smell her hair as he stood beside her. "If that's what you want." His hand traced down her cheek, caressed her neck.

"Answer me this and I'll believe you: has Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on you?"

Lucius paled, more at the mention of his name from her lips than the curse itself. How the hell did she know about that? As if he couldn't guess! "Yes, he has."

Narcissa winced almost like the pain was her own. "Why do you continue to serve him? I don't care what he says he stands for, he's evil! Why don't you leave him?"

Leave him? If it weren't such a harsh reality it would be amusing. Lucius sighed. "You want the truth, so I'll tell you. I joined so I could have you. It was selfish and stupid, but I got you. I'm not sorry for that. Now he owns me, and if I try to leave he'll kill me—most likely after torturing and murdering everyone I love. Since I'm not willing to pay that price, I must become what he wants me to be. Is that honest enough?"

Narcissa blinked several times, taking it in, fighting back a wave of panic. He truly was trapped, there was no hope. "Does he make you murder people?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, he's never ordered me to do that. There are plenty of others perfectly willing. I think he has a plan for me, he wants me to become powerful so whoever and whatever I control, he controls, too."

"Then why does he torture you?"

"Because he knows I'm reluctant to follow him blindly. He can't stand anything but subservience." At this he pulled her closer again and dropped his head on hers. "No matter what, I love you. Whatever I do in service to the dark lord has no effect on that."

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Dobby met Abraxas at the front door where he'd Apparated. "Master Malfoy is home early. Can Dobby take Master's cloak?"

Abraxas handed the cloak to the elf. "Miss Black disappeared from her party," he said grimly. "No one's in a very festive mood."

"Miss Black is not disappearing, Master Malfoy," Dobby jabbered excitedly, happy to help. "Dobby saw Miss Black tonight."

The man's eyes widened. "She was here?"

"Yes, Master Malfoy. Miss Black was with Master Lucius."

"Did they say where they were going?"

"No, Master," Dobby said, shaking his head until his ears flopped back and forth. "Master Lucius never tells Dobby. Dobby sees them doing what humans calls snogging in Master Lucius' room."

Abraxas immediately Disapparated, reApparating silently in the boy's bedroom. Just as the house elf said, Lucius and Narcissa lay fully dressed on the bed, the young man spooning her. He cleared his throat with a mixture of aggravation and relief.

Both youths sprang bolt upright.

"Father, we didn't do anything, she—"

"Mr. Malfoy, we—"

Abraxas waved a silencing hand. "I can see that. Narcissa, your family is worried about you. Lucius, walk her downstairs and say goodnight."

Several minutes later when Lucius returned, he came to a jarring halt, alarmed at finding his father still in his room. The briefest look of terror that flitted through the boy's eyes made Abraxas ashamed. Only a second and it was gone, that slight recoil before catching himself. All his life Lucius had held a respectful fear, something his father considered a good thing. Now that it had morphed into doubting his own father's ability to restrain himself from brutality, he wasn't so sure.

"In the future, son, it would behoove you to consider propriety. Miss Black's reputation as well as your own is at stake here."

"We didn't do anything, sir."

"I believe you. Others might not. Am I to assume the betrothal is back on?"

"Yes, sir," Lucius answered, unable to keep a broad smile from spreading across his face.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. As for the Malfoy reputation, I think it can withstand innocent cuddling." His own smile, though amused at his son's elation, held an air of warning. "Make sure that's as far as it goes."

"Yes, Father."

"Goodnight, son."

Lucius lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling, rolling the memory of Narcissa and their reunion around in his mind. Still grinning like a Cheshire cat, he hugged his arms around himself, wishing she were inside them. Tomorrow he'd have to get up extra early so he could spend even more time with her.

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Dammit, dammit all to hell! Lucius griped. Lord Voldemort had sent him to the dungeon again where there awaited a man and a woman hanging up against one wall, the sight of whom brought sharp pains to his skull. He drew his wand, then hesitated. He hadn't been ordered to torture them, what if the dark lord had other plans for them? But this overpowering, pounding headache drove him to his knees… He let loose a brief crucio and the relief came almost instantaneously. An obvious silencing charm on them kept him from hearing their screams, though he now noted the contortions with something akin to disinterest. He didn't understand why it helped to hurt them, only that it did. The master was right, to inflict pain on Muggles and mudbloods saved him from pain. Perhaps he was also right about exterminating the vermin; if they had the ability to cause such excruciating agony, it was necessary to be rid of them.

He was glad he'd pulled up his wand before a group of fifteen Death Eaters Apparated all around. He recognized several of them, including Macnair, Mr. Avery, Mr. Goyle, Yaxley, Dolohov, and of course Bellatrix. They all fixed their gaze on him, a most disconcerting sensation.

"What?" he demanded. Crap, they must know what he did!

"We've been talking with the dark lord," Yaxley said. "About you."

"What about me?"

Another man who looked to be in his late twenties and whom Lucius had never seen before spoke up from among the cluster. "We mentioned to him how young you are. Unspoiled. And awfully cute besides."

Lucius scowled while the rest laughed. "Step away from the others and we'll see how cute I am." He raised his wand.

The man drew his own wand, but was stopped by one of the others muttering something. The man curled his lip and put it away. "The master said we're not to harm you. He promised a reward to those who eliminated a few of his particularly loathsome enemies, and we decided to ask for you."

For a long moment it didn't register what the man was saying. After a full minute of staring, trying to sort it out, Bellatrix finally snapped, "They want to rape you, dumbshit!"

Lucius' eyes grew to the size of oranges, but his lips bit down in a thin line, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. There were fifteen of them against only one of him, he couldn't hope to win, but he'd go down trying and take as many of them with him as he could.

"Look, boy, you're no match for any of us," Yaxley sneered. "Certainly not all of us."

"I'm not part of it, Lucius," said Macnair, moving off to the side. "The dark lord didn't give permission, anyway." He whirled on the rest. "He said he'd think about it!"

"So you want to take the kid's side?" leered another man Lucius didn't know. "This could get very interesting."

"Maybe I can't win," said Lucius defiantly, his eyes blazing with fury. "But know this: if any of you rape me, you'd better kill me because if you don't, I won't rest until you're dead, until your mutilated, bloody carcasses lay stomped under my feet! And be assured I would make you beg for the Cruciatus just to stop the hideous tortures I've only begun to dream up!"

Yaxley patted his hands together in a cruel mockery of applause. "I'll take my chances." He started across the floor.

"Stupefy!"

Yaxley flew backward, slammed the wall, and slid to the floor. In the crowd of Death Eaters there seemed to be some dissent as they argued in low voices. At last half of them moved off to join Macnair, including Goyle and Avery. Bellatrix meandered over to Lucius.

"Not all of them think you're the cat's meow," she said, a twisted smile playing on her lips. "Don't worry, blondie, unless the dark lord gives the order, they aren't going to touch you." From somewhere on her skimpy attire she produced her wand.

For once he didn't object to her use of 'blondie'. If she was offering her help, she could bloody well call him anything she wanted!

The sudden appearance of Voldemort shocked them all into silence. He scanned their ranks, his keen mind piecing together the scenario. "Contention in our ranks?" he asked pleasantly, as if he were inquiring about the weather. To the small mob intent on deflowering Lucius, he clucked his tongue and shook his head like they were naughty children. "I said I'd ponder it, didn't I?"

That group nodded and murmured obsequious agreement.

"Why, then, is Yaxley unconscious over there?"

"He tried to disobey you, master," said Jansen, the twenty-something man. "Lucius stupefied him."

Voldemort spun slowly around, his cold eyes fixing on Lucius. "Finely done, Malfoy. I can assume you have objection to playing the harlot with your fellow Death Eaters."

"Yes, my lord, I do object."

"Nevertheless, my desires supercede yours, do they not?"

"Always, my lord," he choked out, holding his head up.

"What will be your response if I order you to submit?" persisted Voldemort, reveling in the discomfort and disgust he sensed emanating from the boy. Every shred of fear or loathing tickled his mind in a way short only of the unforgivable curses. Originally he'd had no intention of giving the Death Eaters what they asked for, he'd simply wanted to make them wait for his verdict. The delicious smell of lust and revulsion might change his mind.

There could only be one acceptable answer to the question, Lucius was astute enough to realize that. Refusal would mean hideous torture and rape; obedience might buy him a hint of mercy. "I would obey you, master," Lucius said finally, his glare upon the Death Eaters across the room. "And then I'd kill them."

Voldemort actually chuckled, whether at the response or the unlikelihood of his being able to carry through on the threat. "Well said, Lucius. Because of your loyalty, I will reward you with my decision. Anyone wishing to take the boy will duel each other for him. The winner of said duels will face and duel Lucius. If he loses, he submits to that person only; if he prevails, he has my permission to use the killing curse on everyone involved in the duels. Any takers?"

By now Yaxley had roused himself and joined the group, his humor seriously compromised. "I will, my lord."

"And I," said Jansen, stepping forward.

A ripple moved through the others, who were evidently trying to decide if it was worth risking their lives to bugger one of their own. They decided to the contrary and flattened themselves along the wall.

The duel between Yaxley and Jansen lasted all of eight seconds. Several jets of light poured from their wands, then suddenly Jansen's wand flew from his hand, slapped the ceiling, and fell atop one of the onlookers' heads. Yaxley walloped him with the Cruciatus, smiling fiendishly as he watched the other man thrash and recoil in agony, egging him on to scream louder.

"Enough," Voldemort commanded, looking bored.

Yaxley waited another few seconds before lifting his wand. He turned to Lucius with an appallingly wicked sneer. "Ready, boy? You don't have a shot in hell, I've been dueling since before you were born. Come on, I'm waiting."

Lucius took a step forward, his heart in his throat, only to be pulled roughly back by Bellatrix, who sauntered out to meet Yaxley.

"My turn," she purred, baring her teeth.

"The master said men! My lord, she can't—"

"I said anyone, Yaxley," Voldemort corrected him. Although not delighted at the idea of Bellatrix volunteering to service the boy, he'd set the rules and so they would stay. He'd punish her later, in private. The very thought caused a rush of warmth to his groin.

Bella and Yaxley, both standing at ready, snapped into action. Curses and hexes flew, were deflected, ricocheted off walls. One particularly violent spell heading toward a group of Death Eaters sent them howling to the floor, protesting at the participants' lack of caution. Minutes ticked away as they rounded the room firing upon one another. All at once a blue flame shot from Bella's wand, engulfing Yaxley in a fiery blaze. Stunned, he had no time to attempt either a counterspell or a self-rescue effort. A second blast knocked him screaming off his feet.

"Help me!" he shrieked as his hands slapped ineffectually at the fire.

A wave of Voldemort's wand doused the flames. "It appears we have a winner. Bellatrix, Lucius, you're up."

Lucius trudged out to meet her with inane, jumbled thoughts racing wildly through his head. This was it. Bella was going to kick his ass and then have sex with him. Lucius shuddered. One bright note—at least she wasn't going to have sex with his ass. He hoped she didn't set him on fire, it would ruin his hair and probably scar him for life… from the skin, he meant. And Narcissa. What was he going to tell her when he'd just promised to be honest with her?

He lifted his wand. Protego he thought as Bellatrix cast a hex at him. It deflected back, narrowly missing her. He wasn't sure he liked the squinted look of malice in her eyes—or was that mascara? Damn it, Malfoy, pay attention! Another spell knocked him on his back, panting for air. Bella stood over him, grinning and pointing her wand in his face.

Not the Cruciatus, not the Cruciatus, he thought fervently.

"I win," she said smugly.

The dark wizard began to clap. His Death Eaters picked themselves up off the floor where they'd huddled for safety and joined in enthusiastically. Bella bowed graciously, smirking to herself, then unexpectedly came over to flop at Voldemort's feet.

"Are you forgetting to claim your prize?" he reminded her. Oh, yes, he couldn't wait to get her alone, to show her who the master was, over and over.

"I don't want him, my lord. I just didn't want Yaxley or one of those other perverts to have the satisfaction." She looked up at him with sheer adoration.

"I see, Bellatrix. Lucius, you may go. Yaxley, Jansen, get over here. The rest of you leave."

Lucius Disapparated with the others, leaving Bellatrix seated at Voldemort's feet and the other two kneeling in front of him. He truthfully didn't want to know what was about to happen.

Voldemort aimed his wand first at one, then at the other, then he addressed the woman. "You're the victor, Bellatrix. You do the honors."

The dungeon echoed with their agonized cries.

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"Merlin's ghost, can't you let me be!" Bella roared. "It's freakin' midnight!"

"You weren't here when I came earlier." Lucius attempted a smile. "May I come in?"

She let him pass, mumbling, "This is getting to be a habit. A bad one!" The door crashed behind him. "What is it? If you're coming to collect the prize, get out before I hex you."

Lucius ignored her. "I know you don't like me, so why did you help me today? The master didn't order you to."

"In case you forgot, you're engaged to my sister," she said snidely. "Cissy'd never let me hear the end of it if I let them gang rape you."

"Okay, but you stepped in to take on Yaxley. How did you know I wouldn't have been able to beat him in a duel?" he asked, feeling stupid for even asking. There was no way on Earth he could have won!

She crossed her hands over her chest. "How many duels have you been in?"

"Um, counting today? Two."

"My parents started teaching me dueling the day I got my wand."

"How come Narcissa doesn't know how?"

"Because she's a pansy like you! Just thank me and get out, I'm tired!"

He wanted to reach out, at least shake her hand for what she'd done. She yawned in his face. "Thank you, Bella." Here he paused, then added, "Will you teach me to duel?"

"If it'll make you go home, yes."

"Great. Goodnight, then."

"Whatever. Shut the door on your way out."