Lucius Malfoy sat rigidly behind a large oak desk, stacks of parchment covering every inch of the highly polished surface. He was at a loss to recall how many documents he'd read through, or how late it had become, and rubbed his eyes to suppress the burning sensation.
"Master? There is a young lady at the door requesting to speak with you," his new house elf squeaked, fidgeting with his tattered rags.
Malfoy continued to let his eyes glaze over the paper as he spoke. "What time is it?"
"Its lunchtime, sir," the elf answered now partially obscuring himself behind the door.
"Fine, send her through," Lucius grunted, now fully aware of the hunger echoing throughout his stomach. He jumped upon hearing Myra's voice.
"You'll go blind if you stare at those things too long," she teased.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, now moving out from behind the desk. "I told you never to enter this house!"
"I had no other way of reaching you before our next meeting and it was important," Myra explained backing away slowly.
"Are you out of your mind, girl?" he spat. "What if my wife were home?"
"I told you," she stated defiantly. "It was important I speak with you."
"Spit it out then if the news is so bloody important!"
"I suppose when it comes to the great Lucius Malfoy there is no easy way to phrase this, so -- I'm pregnant."
"You're, excuse me, what?" he stammered. "That cannot be possible."
"I'm afraid that it is," she continued. "Dumbledore has offered their medical facilities if you require proof."
"Proof, of what? That this -- child is mine? I could care less if it were," Lucius responded, the anger rising in his voice. "I want nothing to do with it and I want you out of this house!" Myra had never seen him so upset, a flash of ice shimmering in his eyes, as he moved slowly toward her.
"Are you telling me you're willing to toss away your own flesh and blood?"
"I am telling you," he sneered dangerously. "For the last time that I refuse to acknowledge this -- bastard. Now please, GET OUT!" Malfoy screamed with a fury that bordered on insanity. He fell to his knees as a wave of searing pain ripped through his body.
"Lucius --," she started toward him.
"Leave now before you get hurt!" He shook furiously, his skin gleaming with perspiration.
"I can't leave you like this!" she cried. "You need medical attention!" Unsure what would possess her, Myra got down on her knees beside him, hoping to help somehow or gain the attention of his servant.
"You don't understand!" he screeched in an unearthly tone. "If you stay this will kill me!"
"Lucius, what will kill you?" Myra demanded, holding his head in her hands.
Malfoy couldn't recall experiencing this level of pain and knew the sweet release of unconsciousness would never reach a cursed man. He was unable to control himself now and grabbed Myra by the hair with one hand, pulling them both to full height. She whimpered and begged him to let go, but that was impossible.
"I told you to get out of here," he offered coolly, still holding her by the hair. Lucius did not register her cries of fear as he tossed her viciously into the nearest wall. He felt nothing as she slumped to the floor in tears, desperately begging him to stop. He laughed at her fragile form, while backhanding her across the face. Nor did he think much at all about tossing her outside with the trash, pregnant and bruised.
The wind howled madly about Myra's unconscious figure, lying face-down in the snow, her hair caked with blood. Inside the warm and candlelit mansion Lucius Malfoy stood by an upstairs window, staring down upon the still form of his lover, a single tear gently trickling down his cheek. Once the medi-unit had arrived he replaced himself in the leather bound chair, intent on tackling another pile of Ministry documents.
"Master? There is a young lady at the door requesting to speak with you," his new house elf squeaked, fidgeting with his tattered rags.
Malfoy continued to let his eyes glaze over the paper as he spoke. "What time is it?"
"Its lunchtime, sir," the elf answered now partially obscuring himself behind the door.
"Fine, send her through," Lucius grunted, now fully aware of the hunger echoing throughout his stomach. He jumped upon hearing Myra's voice.
"You'll go blind if you stare at those things too long," she teased.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, now moving out from behind the desk. "I told you never to enter this house!"
"I had no other way of reaching you before our next meeting and it was important," Myra explained backing away slowly.
"Are you out of your mind, girl?" he spat. "What if my wife were home?"
"I told you," she stated defiantly. "It was important I speak with you."
"Spit it out then if the news is so bloody important!"
"I suppose when it comes to the great Lucius Malfoy there is no easy way to phrase this, so -- I'm pregnant."
"You're, excuse me, what?" he stammered. "That cannot be possible."
"I'm afraid that it is," she continued. "Dumbledore has offered their medical facilities if you require proof."
"Proof, of what? That this -- child is mine? I could care less if it were," Lucius responded, the anger rising in his voice. "I want nothing to do with it and I want you out of this house!" Myra had never seen him so upset, a flash of ice shimmering in his eyes, as he moved slowly toward her.
"Are you telling me you're willing to toss away your own flesh and blood?"
"I am telling you," he sneered dangerously. "For the last time that I refuse to acknowledge this -- bastard. Now please, GET OUT!" Malfoy screamed with a fury that bordered on insanity. He fell to his knees as a wave of searing pain ripped through his body.
"Lucius --," she started toward him.
"Leave now before you get hurt!" He shook furiously, his skin gleaming with perspiration.
"I can't leave you like this!" she cried. "You need medical attention!" Unsure what would possess her, Myra got down on her knees beside him, hoping to help somehow or gain the attention of his servant.
"You don't understand!" he screeched in an unearthly tone. "If you stay this will kill me!"
"Lucius, what will kill you?" Myra demanded, holding his head in her hands.
Malfoy couldn't recall experiencing this level of pain and knew the sweet release of unconsciousness would never reach a cursed man. He was unable to control himself now and grabbed Myra by the hair with one hand, pulling them both to full height. She whimpered and begged him to let go, but that was impossible.
"I told you to get out of here," he offered coolly, still holding her by the hair. Lucius did not register her cries of fear as he tossed her viciously into the nearest wall. He felt nothing as she slumped to the floor in tears, desperately begging him to stop. He laughed at her fragile form, while backhanding her across the face. Nor did he think much at all about tossing her outside with the trash, pregnant and bruised.
The wind howled madly about Myra's unconscious figure, lying face-down in the snow, her hair caked with blood. Inside the warm and candlelit mansion Lucius Malfoy stood by an upstairs window, staring down upon the still form of his lover, a single tear gently trickling down his cheek. Once the medi-unit had arrived he replaced himself in the leather bound chair, intent on tackling another pile of Ministry documents.