Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

A/n if I don't see any interest, it will not be continued. I write as long as there is interest.

Caught by a Mad Wizard

Her friends and members of their rebel faction, were all irritated with her. She remembered their recriminations after their contact had alerted her of Lucius' arrival at the club.

Hermione remembered their warnings. "Be sensible, what is it to be gained? You have told us time after time how much you fear his reaction. Draco wouldn't be happy knowing you are endangering his child. Or better, what if others are right? Some swear that he destroyed his office when he found you gone, that he growled like a beast while breaking everything on sight, not using magic.

One of her Pureblood supporters, a blond wizard, had tried to convince her without without success. They were all desperate, there were rumors than the monster wanted Hermione, their leader, for himself, and the mere possibility scared them to death.

"You should know the Malfoy live by strange, archaic rules sanctioned by old and new laws; some are quite barbaric, dealing with wives, children, and possessions. " One of Draco's friends had revealed this on the last attempt to stop her; he didn't like to divulge close-hold knowledge about the old families, especially to those outside the privileged circle. However, this time it was necessary. Even he and Draco would, if they were asked, obey the laws. Why? Because property, inheritances, and magic knowledge were tied to the laws strict adherence.

"I'm not a wife. Moreover, he isn't going to want my son." Hermione argued.

"That is where you are wrong," another wizard from an old family retorted. "Lucius' family goes to the beginning. He will keep you, and who knows what he will do to you. There are no out-of-wedlock Malfoys, nor now nor ever before. It is a Malfoy family's secret that makes it happen. Please don't go." Whereas he didn't know if Malfoy wanted her, he knew of the secret magic that made it possible.

Alas, now she realized that she really didn't know old laws and should have listened.

Yes, Hermione thought, I was warned. Without her, the rebellion was dead, or at the very least, it would lose support from the ones at high places unless they could rescue her.

There, at a nearby table, she identified the burly, young wizards, the Bulgarians, whose lifetime salaries had been paid by Viktor, who also was in a deep coma; as a matter of fact under the same exact curse that Harry was under. Great, they were coming to help; damn, at his right, she saw his bodyguards, consisting of Goyle and a couple of punks, ready to strike. They had seen several Aurors posted outside, who would come running if trouble was perceived. The outcome didn't look favorable, face it, she had risked it all and lost.

Lucius didn't want any harm to come to the witch next to him; however, she had made a fatal tactical error. Not only she lacked understanding of Pureblood traditions, but she couldn't have begun to understand Malfoy's blood bonds and the old magic which controlled many of their actions.

He couldn't let her go; it would be his death, knowing she was out there carrying his future, taking away all that he had left. By law, since he was alone, she belonged to him; she was Draco's partner by the grace of her pregnancy. Even the Winzegamot would respect his rights. Funny, it didn't occur to him how the bond tied him to her.

Because of her revelation, Astoria, the fucking barren witch, had lost his allegiance just a few minutes ago. Nah, she was a witch who didn't want her stick like figure ruined by pregnancy. No, she wanted to be the beauty of their new world, and she had shamelessly proclaimed herself as the new queen of Pureblood society and as the new Lady Malfoy, but without the inconvenience of a baby; because she had wanted to "wait" to enjoy their married life, what a laugh.

Lucius hadn't imposed their traditions on her; not even when she came into his room dressed in suggestive, transparent chiffon gowns to parade her bones, in order to remind him of the Malfoy ways.

She made him sick and had it long coming. She would be stripped of her name and properties come tomorrow. She was no longer a Malfoy. He would set her up with an annuity, and a modest house in the Continent. He would make her wear one of the new wrist cuffs to bar her from the UK because he didn't want a viper near his heir.

Greg approached; he was no longer burly and rather handsome. Hermione saw his eyes gleaming with malice; he wanted a piece of the little Mudblood. At once, his broad hand roughly grabbed Hermione's arm, making her wince with pain, "Lord Malfoy, is this unworthy rubbish giving—"

His lord's eyes gave him a look which froze his blood, and his heart's beat became loud and disorderly. He was caught by the proverbial hunter's light, frozen in place, and couldn't move a muscle.

Lucius' voice was low and venomous, his teeth were clenched, his face's color had risen, splotches of red colored his porcelain skin; his hand covered Hermione's free hand and when he felt her trembling, anger coursed through his veins, "You are the unworthy; take your hands-off her at this instance. We are going to dance, hands-off, now! Or better, I would like to know, do you have a death wish? If so, I could make it real. "

Goyle was not only unable to move away, but his hand had stopped working all together. He tried again, but his arm remained paralyzed.

Lucius was aware of Greg's predicament yet his voice was pure menace and anger. His hard eyes fixed on Greg's hand, the hand that pulled the witch's hand from his arm. Greg still held on to her arm, probably too hard, perhaps causing her discomfort and pain. How could have he dared? Lucius thought, ready to kill him.

"You are to address her as Miss Granger, effective immediately, is that understood? And if I hear you have said one single word against her, one, you might find yourself without a tongue. Perhaps after you are gone, your dear beautiful mother and her stepson and lover, could be invited to spend a season at the Azkaban's suites, fancy that Lord Goyle," Lucius sneer made Greg shake uncontrollably.

Everyone around, kept their eyes riveted on them, Lucius assessed him as a snake would its snared victim and clicked his tongue, "Ah, and now imagine, your innocent young brother, sweet Ephraim, living in one of the orphanages once all his family is gone."

Lucius' voice demanded compliance; everyone knew that his threats were never in vain. His tone spoke volumes; it left no doubt that he had reached his limit.

"Have you listened? I am about to slice your arm off, let her go now and pray to all deities that you didn't bruise her!" Lucius warned once more.

The angry words made Greg's nerves come alive; and, at once, he let go off her arm and backed fearfully; he knew of those who had died for much less. Maybe the rumors were true; according to many, Lucius had claimed the Mudblood instead of Astoria, who waited for him. He was with Granger instead of following the House of Malfoy's tradition; yes, he knew that Lucius had turned Astoria down all along. Fuck, he had placed his bids on the wrong witch. His brother, err, his father, Francis had told him he was making a mistake. He should have listened.

He knew firsthand that his Lord had been inconsolable since Draco was abducted, and he had seen Lucius' obvious brooding since Granger had taken leave. He was not clever.

If that were to be the case, Granger was the favorite; correction, Miss Granger was the one, and he would have to watch his step. He wished that he had been able to gain from the opportunity and had been solicitous; he'd missed the chance to go up one more rung.

He could have been appointed as her personal assistant, but instead, he had caught the Lord's unwanted attention and had earned his wrath. He needed to talk to Astoria soon and would to find out how much Lucius knew about him, about them. He shuddered in fear.

He bowed without pride, "I am so sorry Miss Granger. I am too zealous about our Lord's safety, please forgive me." He knew that she was generous, noble, and kind, so he deeply hoped that she would protect him from harm.

"Greg, straighten out. I am still the same person, your school's student, and you are fully forgiven; you were only doing your job." Albeit her arm still throbbed painfully, she didn't want someone else hurt. Greg wasn't surprised at her reaction, and once again bowed truly grateful, no subterfuge or pretense. He would make amends and come out on top, besides he never forgot a good turn. Though he'd keep his eyes open for any missteps.

"OUT," Lucius barked.

Lucius, the unexpected dancer and quick study-

The D. J., a yank import, loved to play Muggle music; he often claimed that the singers, or the bands were magical beings living amongst the Muggles, hiding out in the open. His allegations could have been true since across the pond there were no hidden magical communities. The reality is that he did what he wanted and spun yarns to justify his actions. He had rabid Purebloods dancing to Muggle music and loving it. He was one strange character with a hidden agenda. He had secrets and a mission of his own.

Lucius held on to her waist, his fingers barely on her, "Shall we my dear?"

He wanted her in his arms. His mind was cloudy, and the need to protect her was driving him relentlessly. The wish to have her inside his arms, as allowed during dancing, held an irresistible lure; it was the siren calling the fierce seafarer to his doom.

She wanted to resist but thought it better. She had seen her companions coming towards her, ready to rescue her. Greg was probably not contrite. No he wasn't, he still watched with hawk's eyes, doubtlessly waiting for a slip up from her part. That was Greg, an opportunist and his interests came first. All true, but she didn't want blood spilled over her lack of good sense.

She knew that if she were to resist Lucius, a bloody fight was sure to ensue and all would be lost.

She had been crazy to think that she could change his mind. Now, the demented monster thought her baby belonged to him. Had she known this, she would have stayed where she had been, hiding right in front of his eyes. Draco had been right; he was blinded by his power.

Lucius insides were causing him distress, her touch was polluting his pure soul, and her muddy blood was infecting his perfect blood. His skin felt warm and prickling, his cock was hard, throbbing, and wet, and the surging emotions made it hard to breathe. This had to be about the child and not about him, thus he needed to rein on the wild feelings running amok his head, heating his blood, awakening a beast inside of him.

He had never felt like this, for him sex was merely a bodily function to procreate, or a need that had to be addressed and sated; hence the reason for marriage, to avoid these bestial urges. His lovely Narcissa had met all his needs without complaints. During her life, she was only touched by him and had been pristine and clean. Lucius remembered.

He liked schedules; hence, they usually met every Wednesday and Saturday from 9:00 to 9:45 P. M. ; of course, there were some additional occasions such as anniversaries, balls, vacations, and such, or whenever he wanted to be "fit" and free of temptations, or whenever she expected a bit of romance. He always, every single time, took care of his 'needs' before going to Hogwarts. It was necessary with all the beauties throwing theirselves at him, and their nubile bodies coming in close contact.

Once he had no time, he had to deal with an emergency with Draco, come to think of it, hmm, ah yes, it was the time when SHE, Miss Granger, had bumped against him, not to seduce him but rather aggressively. She had awoken the beast, making him very angry. He had come home feeling dirty in more ways than one. She was but a child, maybe 15, and even worse, there was the blood issue. He ran to take a steaming bath, to scrub the parts of his body that came in contact with her. His body had become aroused, hard as a stone. After scrubbing, magically and otherwise, he couldn't wait for Narcissa, she wasn't at home, at least that was his excuse, and satisfied his own urgency, while relieving the moment she fell against him, more than once. No, best to forget about the deplorable incident, and back to remembering his Narcissa; after all, he liked to remember the good times.

Narcissa met him in her room, fresh out the shower, her skin still warm from the bath's steam. She always wore some charming lingerie, just a little risqué, alluring yet provocative, worn with matching jewelry and very high heels, fragrant with one of the perfumes he liked. He wore nothing under his robe, which she hung for him after kissing his cheek lightly.

Naked and already aroused, would recline on the prepared divan by the fireplace. A glass of one of his favorite wines and one or two delicacies waited for him, usually something truly aphrodisiac. He would often touch himself because she liked it, although he deemed it a bit over the edge.

She would strip for him as he liked it, to get him properly ready. He had gone to a high class stripper show with Severus and found it titillating, and ever accommodating Narcissa learned for him. After the delightful private showing and she was naked, she would slowly walk to the bed followed by his eyes.

In there, she would slowly add extra lubrication under his watchful eye and would wait open and ready for him; he would move in place. Everything would go without a hitch so that he would be done by the allotted time.

Afterwards, he would give her a quick peck, thanked her, and go to his room. He always showered and scrubbed well, and his body would be fit and his needs in check until the next time.

Since she had died, he had well paid nameless witches, whose service was arranged by his son and procured by his secretary; the witches, whose memories of him were Obliviated on their way out, were generously paid and had to visit the healer before seeing him. But it had been months, no sense since their solace no longer appealed to him, not after THE INCIDENT, a terribly humiliating experience, and even less since

THE NIGHT.

What he was experiencing couldn't be sexual, not as he understood it. Thus, he deduced it must be the disease that had robbed him of his heir. He had read about such base instincts, which were certainly beneath him.

He had found the subject matter in several writings, and the passions they described surely weren't for people of his stature. Other authors were more accurate, they all agreed of how those feelings poisoned the soul and made humans act irrationally; just as he was feeling at this moment. Even his fingers ached for her, his cock was a foreign member throbbing at the rhythm of his heart, and he could have easily let his fingers find the way. He swallowed a small whimper.

It had to be an illness, this wasn't normal. It felt exactly as during that time after he had witnessed an incomprehensible act, and he had nearly caught his son's malaise. So why was he doing this?

Holding on to her body, having her so close to him, was doing nothing to improve his condition; so why was it that he didn't want to stop this feeling, to stop this descent into the pits of hell?

He knew the answer, because he wanted to stop hurting so much. First Draco was taken from him, and then she had gone as well. He had felt his insides burning with searing pain, the day when he returned and found her gone; he had gone mad, and now, now, she had back.

He held the young witch close to his body. He now wrapped his arm around her shoulder, with his fingers just inches away from her breasts. When they arrived at the dance floor, one of his toadies ran and took the heavy outer robe away from him. Underneath, he wore Draco's clothes, consisting of a white starched shirt, dark trousers, and a soft wool jumper, two shades lighter than the trousers.

He was Draco; she could now see that, but a little broader and taller. Her heart warmed up to him, and she decided to play the illusion; why not? Hermione felt Draco would have approved, and she even had his permission. Thinking about it, she smiled inwardly.

She wore tailored wool jersey robes with a loose vest over them, meant to disguise her rounding figure. She wore smart ballerina flat shoes, and Muggle athletic shoes to allow her to move fast.

Her hair was up. Fleur had fixed her hair, making an elaborate French braid, with woven little shells from a trip she had gone with her Draco. Her careful hairdo, was now a bit messy thanks to the mad wizard's hold of her braid, and to top it, her scalp still hurt. Her only jewelry where the emerald buttons Draco had gifted her. She wore a dab of perfume and applied mascara and lip gloss.

The minute he stepped in, as in accord, all the dancers started to exit the dance floor since nobody wanted to chance and accidentally step or push Lord Malfoy. Her people were blocked, she knew that.

As soon as they stepped on the dance floor, a charm concealed the area from prying eyes, a standard procedure when Lucius was in crowds; he hated when others touched him, or even looked at him during private moments.

The music momentarily stopped and just restarted, a last minute change by the D. J. designed to embarrass the hated lord. It was a love song, and he well knew of the animosity the Dark Wizard felt for all that was Muggle, ah, yes, surely his dislikes included the beauty dancing with him; or did they include her? Certainly, since she was as Muggle as they came.

The bastard didn't deserve her, and the D. J. hoped the song would scare Lucius back to his seat. Everyone wanted her, she was the stuff of legends, and the murdering monster had her in his arms, disgusting. She was too good for the entire lot, even the young simpering fool was an undeserving bastard, married to another, had stayed with the unfaithful wife, idiots, all of them.

The hidden watcher was frustrated, looking at the dancers. She was the gold snitch pursued by the most powerful; and now, when 'their' goal was nearly reachable, the priceless beauty stood to ruin it all. They knew of the hidden prize she carried, but how could she be with the monster? It was unfathomable, just unreasonable. Their hands were tied because their cover would be blown if anyone attempted any action.

A/n keep in mind Lucius is a bit out of it.