A/N: I am sure everyone has seen the warnings. They still apply. Flashbacks are in Italics.

In case you live under a rock, Harry Potter and associated characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Chapter title is from Year Zero, Nine Inch Nails.

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study, reviewing his business correspondence from the last two months, but his thoughts were elsewhere. While every member of his family carried the Dark Mark, his son was deemed by the Ministry to have taken it only under duress. For this, Lucius was thankful. It meant that the Malfoy name and social standing had not been completely destroyed by the Dark Lord's downfall. Unfortunately, it also meant that Draco controlled all of the family holdings.

His son had allowed him to control some aspects of the family businesses, once he was sure that Lucius would not revert back to his former Death Eater persona. How naïve the boy could be. Lucius had been slowly diverting funds from some of the businesses into a little known account he had set up to use for his pleasure and for what he was calling his retirement fund. He was going to use that money to fund his new life, away from the accusing eyes of the British wizarding population.

Lucius had never had a Death Eater persona. He was and always would be a pure-blooded supremacist. The person he had become since the war ended, this respectable and honest wizard, was the façade. He counted down the days until he could return to his former self.

The things he did to maintain this new identity helped him with the Ministry and one of his toys. The Ministry was beginning to see him as truly reformed, though a few still had their doubts. But the Malfoys had the support of Harry Potter. Potter had stood up for his family after the final battle.

Draco had been cleared within the first week. Potter had testified about the events surrounding Dumbledore's offer and Draco's reluctance to take a life. The Wizengamot had heard how he had been forced to take Lucius' place and all about the task that was given to him. Everyone seemed to agree that the boy had been set this task in order to set him up for failure and to punish him for his father's mistakes.

Narcissa's trial had taken a little less than a month before she too was cleared. While she had rarely performed any duties for the Dark Lord, she had been accused of harboring him at the Manor for almost a year. Her part in saving Potter had actually earned her an Order of Merlin, third class in the end. It seemed that many wizards felt without her deception the battle would have been lost.

Lucius' trial had lasted more than three months, but the Ministry hadn't let him off completely. Every misdeed he had done in the last twenty or so years had been scrutinized. He had been accused of everything from bribery to murder and even a few things he hadn't done. The evidence against him, for most of the crimes, was sketchy at best. With Potter's testimony, he had managed to get off relatively easy.

He had spent ten years under Ministry control, his magic had been bound, and he'd had to perform community service for the betterment of the wizarding community. During this time, he had to rely heavily on his personal elf for the care and protection of his toys. He could not be seen taking care of those things himself. Especially if he wished to retain control of the Muggle-born Project.

The Muggle-born Project was a brilliant idea he'd had to separate the Mudbloods from their parents once they began school. Plus, it had the added benefit of allowing him to perform his community service, making him look better in the eyes of the Ministry. Even after his commitment to the Ministry was complete, he continued to lead the Project in order to control the young Muggle-born children.

The Project placed Muggle-borns with pure-blooded families during the summer holidays, thus allowing them to learn more of the customs and traditions of the wizarding culture they now belonged to.

The press ate it up. A Malfoy and reformed Death Eater trying to instill the values of the wizarding world in the Muggle-borns was just the thing to get his name and picture on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

'Lucius Malfoy Takes a Stand for Muggle-borns and Half-bloods'.

The article, once it had been doctored a bit, found its way into the hands of his toy. His plan was to make her see him as a savior. He left the headline alone but changed the article in order to further terrify and control his toy.

Being the head of the Project gave him the right to place the students with families of his choosing. He only had to answer to Percy Weasley, who was easily persuaded to see only what Lucius wanted him to see. He was careful to place many of the students with unknown supporters of the Dark Lord, ensuring that they would be forever turned from the Muggles who had raised them. He used his influence over these families to force them to do his bidding in regards to what the children learned. If he could not eradicate the Mudbloods, he would see to it that they felt the same way about Muggles as he did.

He had returned home late last night from the mainland where he had gone to make arrangements for himself and his favorite toy. His family had assumed he had other business to take care of and did not question his lengthy trip. He had been eager to set his plan into motion, but his stay had lasted a little longer than expected.

His anger began to swell as he remembered the events of this morning. Today was supposed to be the first day of his new life, without his wife. Even the glass of Firewhiskey he had had before breakfast was not able to calm him down.

He had been trying for months to kill his wife, making sure his elf dosed her tea with a variety of untraceable, slow-acting poisons. The poisons were designed such that his wife should have died a week ago, had she continued to take them. Something had happened. Not only had she not died, she seemed to have recovered from her illness enough to go to Tenerife with her sister, unbeknownst to him.

He had placed several calls while away to check on her health, as any concerned husband would. When it became apparent she was recovering, he had decided to take matters into his own hands, literally. He had been set to do just that upon his return.

He had tried in vain to locate his wife before the rest of the occupants of the manor awoke this morning. She had not been in any of her rooms, the garden or solarium. After several hours of endless searching, he had called her elf.

"Master call Calla," the little elf had squeaked when she'd popped into view.

"Where is my wife, elf," he'd snarled.

"Mistress has not been well. Mistress has gone with her sister on holiday."

Lucius had waved his hand to signify he was through with her, and she'd disappeared.

On holiday with that blood traitor of a sister, Andromeda. He would now have to wait for her to return before he could continue with his plans. He really should have killed her before he'd left. That poison he'd found had obviously not worked as it was supposed to if all it had done was make her ill.

He needed to clear his head and calm down. Another glass of Firewhiskey and his anger began to abate. After another hour of perusing business correspondences, he began to think about his two precious toys. A devious smile spread across his face. One he would destroy, and the other he would keep, until she was of no more use to him.

He was beginning to relax and allowed himself a few minutes to reminisce on how he had come across the toys that had brought him so much pleasure over the years.

How lucky that he found the Mudblood dazed and confused on the grounds of Hogwarts. He grabbed her up and Apparated to the nearest deserted place he could think of, the Shrieking Shack. He knew that the Dark Lord had already left it to go into the forest.

His first thought was that he was going to teach the little Mudblood a lesson. He would torture and rape her before disposing of her body back on the battlefield. He would leave her alive, just barely. With any luck, they would not be able to save her in time.

When he arrived at the shack, he was surprised to find an unconscious Snape slumped against the wall. He had been told by the Dark Lord that the traitor was dead. He could see several discarded potion vials and blood surrounding the Potions master. A slow trickle of blood from the man's neck proved he had tried, and failed, to properly heal the wounds inflicted by Nagini.

He raised his wand, intent on finishing the job the snake had failed to do, when a thought crossed his mind. The man was obviously weak and unable to defend himself. In this state, Lucius could take advantage. He could have his revenge on the man and take his time doing it. He would make him suffer for betraying the Dark Lord. He needed to find a place to put him until he was free to play.

His mind made up, he called to his elf.

"Mot."

"Master call," the little elf said as he popped into existence.

"Mot, my irascible little elf. I have new toys for us. Take both of them to your rooms and make sure it is properly warded so no one can find them, and tell no one they are there. I will return when I can. Until then, treat only what needs to be in order to keep them alive."

"Yes, master." An evil grin spreading across his face.

"And Mot, feed this one," pointing to Snape, "only when necessary. I cannot have him regaining his strength before I have had time to enjoy him."

"Yes, master. It will be my pleasure to keep the toys and keep this one weak."

The elf grabbed hold of both the Mudblood and the traitor and disappeared. As much as Lucius wanted to play, he knew he would be missed if he did not return to the Dark Lord's side soon.

Returning to his papers, Lucius attempted to conclude his business correspondence for the day. He had to schedule a time to check on all the children in the Project this week for his Ministry-appointed bean counter, otherwise known as his Project Liaison. It was the standard 'Are the children happy, healthy and safe' visit. Of course, Lucius preferred to do these visits personally. He was able to intimidate and control the youngsters when they were in his presence, force them to see and understand his views.

He tried to concentrate on his schedule, but his thoughts kept returning to his elf. Mot was an incredible find. He closed his eyes and thought back to that day so long ago when he had found the elf in his manor.

He had come across the elf shortly after losing his other personal elf. Lucius had been disposing of a few artifacts that were stored beneath his drawing room when he came across a small door he had never seen before. Crouching down, he had spelled the door open and been surprised to see a small corridor behind it. After enlarging the passage so he could walk along it, he came across a series of elf quarters that he had not known about.

Malfoy Manor had housed five elves at the time: one for each family member, a cook and one for general cleaning duties. Those elves all stayed in quarters near the kitchens. However, before Lucius was born, his grandfather had owned several dozen elves. These rooms must have been where they had been housed.

Doorway after doorway had led to rooms that were little more than small dens. Piles of discarded clothing and linens, which must have served as the nests for each of the creatures that had once lived down here, and a small wash basin, no larger than a soup bowl, were the only content in the dens. A few had small wooden boxes, also lined with discarded linens. Lucius assumed these must have been for the offspring of the manor elves.

At the end of the corridor had been a heavily warded door. It had looked like the others, and Lucius had assumed it led to another den. But when he began to dismantle the wards, he became aware of a blood ward on the door. He had heard of this type of ward and knew it would only open with blood from the master of the house. His curiosity was piqued. There was very little he did not already know about Malfoy Manor, and now he had found unused servant quarters and a room only he could open.

Slicing his wand across the palm of his hand, Lucius allowed the blood to pool before placing his palm against the door. When the door opened, he was surprised to see a well-appointed room that was tastefully decorated in blue and green tones. A small bed sat along one wall with a side table next to it. In the middle of the room was a leather sofa surrounded by several stacks of books. A low table was in front of the sofa, also covered in books. A curtained area in one corner lay open to reveal a miniature bathroom, complete with a tub and a separate shower.

Seated at a small table and chair set was an elf Lucius had never seen before. The elf looked towards him and then went back to his lunch. Astonished, Lucius stood there staring for a moment, incredulous at the absence of any recognizable elvish behavior in the creature.

"Elf, what are you doing in my home?"

"I believe it is you, sir, who has entered my home," the strange little elf squeaked.

Stunned, Lucius Malfoy actually was at a loss for words. How dare an elf speak to him like that, in his own home no less? He would kill the little creature for disrespecting him that way. He raised his wand, but before he could utter a curse, he flew back into the wall. As he slipped into unconsciousness, the elf smirked and went back to his meal.

When he came to, he was lying on the sofa. The elf had pulled the chair over from the table and was watching him. He slowly sat up, mindful of the throbbing pain in his head. The elf stood and bowed before him.

"Master Malfoy, I am Mot."

Lucius was confused. Was this the same elf that had only minutes before thrown him into a wall?

"Who do you think you are, hexing me in my home?" Lucius snarled, reaching for his wand to kill the belligerent elf.

Mot glared at his master. His life would be easier if he learned to respect the power elves had and that it was at his disposal. Most elves did not mind using their magic to assist their wizard masters.

"You will not find your wand, wizard. I have removed it while you were out."

Lucius was stunned into silence for the second time that day by an elf. This elf and his unusual behavior was as infuriating as it was intriguing. The elf began to speak again before he could think about it any longer.

"As I was saying, I am Mot. I belong to the master of the house, which must be you if you have entered these rooms."

"If you belong to me, why have you hexed me and stolen my wand? How did I not know about you until now?"

"Your father placed me here a few years before you were born. He warded this room so no one but he could enter. You are the first to enter in more than sixty years. Your father moved the other elves to different quarters after he placed me here. He did not want them to stumble upon my existence.

"My meals are delivered three times a day. I read books that were provided for me. I learn about your culture and your history. I fully expected to die without ever seeing another wizard or elf again."

"If you were his personal servant, why did he lock you away in this room?" Lucius could not help but ask; he wanted to understand his father's motivations.

"The Mistress wanted him to dispose of me. She did not want any reminders of the one who killed Master's first son."

"You are clearly delusional. I am the first and only heir to Abraxas Malfoy."

"No. Spurius Caedmon Malfoy was born 1950 and was killed in 1952. He was the son of Abraxas Flavius Malfoy and Cedrella Aquila Black. Cedrella was Master Malfoy's mistress for a time before she married Septimus Rufus Weasley. The child was born long after your parents were married. Mistress Malfoy came to love the boy as if he were her own. At that time, she was unable to have any herself.

"When Cedrella married Weasley, Master was very angry. He ordered me to punish the boy. Master always appreciated my talent for causing pain. When the Mistress found me with him, he was barely breathing. She tried to kill me. She would not have an evil, out of control elf in her home. Master stopped her and promised he would take care of 'disposing of' me. That is when he put me here. He knew he could not harm me, for he could not trust another elf with his most precious secrets. I controlled the magic binding his toys in the dungeons. The Muggles and the Squibs he tortured for amusement. Disposing of me would mean the magic would fail. He could not spare the energy to handle it himself. By placing me here, it allowed me to continue to supply the magic yet made it seem to Mistress that he had killed me."

Lucius was unsure whether or not to feel sick or impressed by the elf's words and actions. He had always known the he and his father had shared a passion for torture. His father used to tell him stories about it when his mother was away. It was how he had learned to appreciate true torture. Unfortunately, it had been years since he had last played in any way. Not since the Dark Lord's fall to the infant Potter brat. He had not known about the elf control his father had used on the prisoners, though he could see the benefit of it. He could also see how he could use it for the same purposes.

"Did you enjoy helping my father with his toys, elf?"

"Yes, Master Malfoy. I enjoyed it immensely and have missed hearing the screams from the dungeons," Mot answered with a grin.

Lucius smiled for the first time since coming into Mot's quarters. He and Mot were going to get along well, very well indeed.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviews. I am sorry if I missed responding to you after last chapter. My thanks to Sempra for reading through this, time and time again, until I got it all right. Spurius means "of illegitimate birth" in Ancient Roman. Flavius means "golden" or "yellow-haired" in Ancient Roman. Aquila is for the constellation and means eagle.