Author's notes:The following events are now taking place toward the end of J.K.Rowlings 6th book, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. All the characters are her property.

For any spoilers given away by this story, I deeply apologise, and strongly suggest that you read the books first before this chapterand any folowngin my story. This may answer questions about Lucius' imprisonment in the first place, and what Horcruxes are.

Many months have passed, Draco has tried and failed to kill Albus Dimbledore twice, and is suffering from severe depression, fearing the wrath the dark lord would revenge upon his parents, should he fail again.

Harry suspects he is a deatheater, but has no proof.

Lucius is still imprisoned in Azkaban, and has been for many months.

Warning, references to suicide and self-harming, which some may find offensive and/or disturbing.

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A losing battle

Lucius pounded the back of his head against the stone wall of his cell, his eyes clenched shut through the pain. He had been doing this for countless nights, sometimes until his white hair turned crimson. He had a full beard now. As white as the hair on his head, which had now reached his lower back in twisted knots.

A prisoner let slip that Figg the porky Auror had been giving Lucius writing utensils, and Figg was asked to leave. Lucius' punishment was considerably severe. A month in solitary confinement. He had never been treated so horrendously in his life, and now the strain was definitely beginning to show.

When he came out, he wouldn't speak a word, he never sneered, he had simply lost all will to live. His mattress had been removed, out of fear that he would make rope with the material.

A kindly witch Auror called Teresa, had been called in to check his condition, and had suggested he be sent to Saint Mungo's with a horde of Prison Aurors. Her request had been denied, due to the extent of Lucius' crimes, and fear that he may escape. Instead she visited frequently to make sure he hadn't hung himself with his own hair.

"Good Morning Lucius!" She spoke as if he were a frightened child. "Are you feeling better today?" she smiled sweetly. The door to his cell opened and she entered quietly, as she usually did, trying to grab his attention.

Lucius didn't move, nor look at her. He was holding his breath, gasping through clenched teeth now and then. His head still pounded against the stone, a trickle of blood providing warmth on the back of his neck.

Teresa wore a look of deepest sympathy and kindness, as if she genuinely wanted to help this poor creature. "Has he spoken at all?" She asked one of her fellow guards.

"No madam, not one word."

She moved a little closer, and inspected the deep wound on his wrist. "When did this happen?" she asked in shock, gently lifting Lucius' wrist to her face. A nasty scar stretched from the centre of his palm to the middle of his forearm.

"About a week ago, he did it with his nails, so we had to cut them off." The guard shrugged.

At her touch Lucius stopped banging his head and opened his eyes. Staring blankly straight ahead, emotionless.

She noticed the whites of his nails had been filed away, until his fingers looked red raw from the stress. It was then she spotted a crumpled piece of paper held tight in his palm.

"Please say something?" She whispered, "Please Lucius? Is that from your boy? Tell me about your son?" she was pleading now, she had been trying to make him speak for weeks, and at one point he showed signs of improvement. Then he had suddenly reverted deeper and deeper into his own world.

"He's dead!" he hissed. Still staring at the wall opposite, his face filling with a mixture of rage and despair.

She almost jumped to her feet in shock. "What did you say?" She leaned closer, placing her face in the direction he was looking.

His eyes focused onto hers. "He'll kill us all!" he sneered, and lunged for her. His arms groping for her throat. She barely had enough time to scream as he pulled her to her feet and stood facing his guard, hostage in hand.

"Malfoy! Let her go!" The auror demanded. He was armed only with a club. Wands were strictly forbidden. "There's nowhere to go!" he was poised and calm, but clearly had never been in a situation like this before.

"Let me go!" Teresa struggled against his grip, but Luicus held her tight. She was only small, and though he was thinner and weaker, he found that he was considerably stronger than he thought he was.

Malfoy, glared at the Auror, his icy stare freezing him in his tracks. "I want to speak to my son." He hissed. "Go get him." He demanded.

The Auror took a look at Teresa, who nodded for him to go. Then she tried to calm him. "Lucius…I know you're upset. I would be too."

"Shut up!" he hissed. "I'm not interested."

She obediently shut her mouth, fearing what he would do.

---

"Draco! It's urgent!" Snape burst through the doors of Professor McGonagall's transfiguration classroom. All the students turned to look at Draco, who had stood up, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "Yes sir?" he said slowly, not knowing the reason for the disturbance.

"I say Professor Snape?" McGonagall's shrill Scottish accent echoed through the room. "What is the meaning of this? The children are in the middle of a test!"

Snape glared at the classroom. All the students were staring at him, as of he were Satan himself. Some looked like they were about to wet themselves. Longbottom in particular.

"My apologies professor! I need Draco urgently." He was clearly worried about something, and pressed for time.

"Can it not wait?" she scoffed in annoyance that Snape had chosen her class, of all classes.

He strode to the desk where she was sat and shook his wand at the class.

"surditas –atis" He hissed.

Harry, Hermione, Ron and the rest of the class, suddenly found themselves unmistakeably deaf. They looked at each other in shock, then at the rest of the class, who were also confused. Only Malfoy didn't seem affected, and he headed to McGonagall's desk, a look of deep worry etched in his face.

"There's a hostage situation at Azkaban, Lucius is demanding Draco be brought to him. We have to do this now." Snape clutched Draco's shoulder as he tried to take it all in.

"Of course! By all means go! Mr. Malfoy you are excused!" She nodded urgently.

Harry watched as McGonagall spoke to Malfoy, then he took off, grabbing his robe as he left. He looked utterly distraught. Snape waited a few seconds and then followed after, waving off the deafening spell as he did so. The classroom erupted with sound, as everyone's ears returned to normal.

"Mr. Malfoy has urgent business to attend to, and you are all still in an exam. Now stop this chatter and get on with it, or I will have no choice but to fail you." She looked as distressed as Snape, and tapped her fingers nervously on her desk.

---

"Malfoy! Unless you want to spend the rest of your sentence in the dark room, I suggest you let the lady go!" A burly Auror barked at Lucius through the bars. He still had a grip on Teresa, and they had been barking at him for what seemed like hours.

"We have him here now!" A voice echoed down the corridor, which had gradually filled with Auror's.

Running footsteps were heard as Draco was brought to the cell, his face filled with utter revulsion at the sight of it. "Is this where you keep him?" He scoffed, unable to think of words to describe it.

He got no answer and was lead to the open door. Draco saw the tall figure of his father, holding a small woman by the neck. His eyes showed no signs of madness, only desperation. "I'm here father!" He spoke gently. "You can let her go now." He climbed slowly into the cell, his palms outstretched, and took hold of Teresa's hand. Lucius reluctantly let go, and Draco led her out of the cell, slamming it shut before the Auror's could drag him out too.

"Five minutes! That's all I ask, and no 'dark room' either. I shall personally guarantee a very large 'donation' to St. Mungo's or another charity of your choice!" Draco eyed them with the same authoritative stare as his fathers. They reluctantly dispersed, giving the two space to talk.

He turned to Lucius, and beheld what looked like a peasant. His hair was matted,a beardhad sprouted on his face, and rags he called 'clothes' were soiled and bloodstained.

"Draco!" His father lunged at him, hugging him tightly, as if he hadn't seen another person in years. "You've grown so much in six months!" He laughed quietly. He let go of him and headed for the bars, checking that none were listening. Then he grabbed Draco's arm.

"Father No!" Draco shouted, as Lucius lifted the sleeve and found the dark mark etched in his skin. He recoiled as if bitten, then tenderly touched his own mark, not daring to look him in the face. "It's true…It's all coming true…"

He opened the small crumpled piece of paper, he had been grasping so tightly. Then handed it to Draco.

Draco opened it, and instantly recognised the beautiful script written upon it.

Do not think I can't hurt you in prison

Draco almost dropped the paper. "How did you get this?" He asked, ripping it to shreds and stuffing it in his pocket.

"The ever faithful Wormtail paid me a little visit a week ago." Lucius sank to his knees, leaning against the wall for balance. "Managed to sneak in through the plumbing as a bloody rat. Nobody saw a thing." Lucius lifted his shirt to show an array of bruises on his stomach.

"What did he tell you?" Draco swallowed.

"That you had joined the dark Lord. That you would be killed if you failed your mission!" he winced as he pulled his shirt back down. "Then your mother…and lastly me."

Draco knew this to be true, the words of the Dark Lord echoed in his mind.

The penalty would be most severe on your family, should you fail me.

"…then Wormtail beat the hell out of me, and did this!" Lucius held aloft his wrists, a nasty scar stretched from his palms to his forearms. "He said it would be better this way, than just waiting." Lucius was aching all over.

"So he thinks I'll fail?" Draco sneered, anger and loathing building up inside his gut, at the thought of his father's torture.

"I got that impression." Lucius looked into Draco's eyes. "Don't fail. For god's sake!" He clasped his palms around his son's face."…Don't you dare!"