Chapter 9

Lucius Malfoy sat crouched in the corner of his cell; his hair hanging down in matted clumps, hiding his sunken face. His once immaculately groomed fingernails, which were now jagged and filthy, dug into his exposed knees. He was hardly recognizable as the proud wizard he once had been; it was only by his silver family ring, now covered in dried blood and dirt, that he was recognizable as the head of the once noble Malfoy family.

"Thirteen months," Lucius mumbled as he ground his nails deeper into his flesh. "Thirteen months," he repeated. A trickle of blood ran down his leg and then drop by drop fell upon the filthy stone floor.

It had been thirteen months since the night at the Department of Mysteries. For the first month of his imprisonment he had been somewhat grateful to be locked away behind the thick stone walls of Azkaban. He knew the Dark Lord was not pleased with their failure to obtain the prophecy. However, the fact that the Dark Lord had been forced to appear, declaring on no uncertain terms to the world that he had in fact truly returned, had been the major loss that night. While Fudge, and thereby the Ministry, had refused to admit Voldemort had returned, there had been some protection against ministry action; now, that protection was gone. Yes, at first it seemed that being hidden away in this tomb of stone was for the best; he would escape the punishment that the Dark Lord would undoubtedly administer. However, now, it had been thirteen months.

Lucius' comfort that he would not be amongst those to be punished for the failures of that one horrible night had dulled. He realized soon that he had lost too much; most importantly, his family name had been tarnished. He was angry. He was bitter. He was now rotting away like common filthy criminal.

He had been a faithful follower of the Dark Lord for twenty-three years. "Twenty-three years," he muttered under his breath. Once again he ground his nails into his flesh. The blood continued to drip on the floor. He had given twenty-three years and now his only compensation was a life sentence in Azkaban. Voldemort had dong nothing to free his most faithful of followers.

BANG! The sound of a large wooden being slammed against the wall as it opened startled the pitiful looking prisoner. Lucius looked up to the two guards who had come to call. The light from their wands caused him momentarily blindness.

"Malfoy!" The shorter of the two guards strode forward, pointing his lit wand directly at the thin body in the corner.

Lucius closed his eyes and looked away from the bright light in front of his face.

"Malfoy!" The guard yelled down at him again, this time adding a swift kick to get the prisoner's attention.

Lucius turned his head back to face the guard and slowly opened his eyes. With one of his hands he pushed his hair out of the way and looked up to the young guard. Malfoy curled his lip in disgust, the wizard was not more than twenty, more likely a recent graduate from Hogwarts; he was certainly not a Slytherin. Slowly, in almost a serpent like grace, the once proud man stood up; he was much taller than the young guard.

The younger wizard took a step back and the second guard, who had been standing in the shadows, took a step forward.

"You… um…" the young guard mumbled something incoherent.

Lucius stood straighter and strove to look as menacing as he could without his wand.

"You have a visitor," the young guard finely made out his message.

Lucius looked toward the second Azkaban guard. His eyebrow quirked slightly and then he looked back to the fool before him. "Who?"

"Your wife," he replied as though surprised the woman would bother. The younger man had quickly gained back some of his previous arrogance.

"Well then, take me to her."

-----

Narcissa looked around the small, sparsely furnished room and a shiver went down her spine. Everything was heavy about the place, the roughly built furniture, the stone encasement, the cold air, the stench, the madness, and the grief. She felt the weight upon her shoulders and wanted to flee; however, she could not, she would not. She pulled the soft velvet cloak around her arms as though it would keep her seated there and restrain her from fleeing the room.

She had come at least once a month to see him. While she would have liked to see him more, to know he was alive, to be sure he knew she loved him; she could not bear the madness of the place. She did not know how Lucius stood it; though, she knew he was a very strong and rather stubborn man. She frowned; her sister had not done so well. The guards had denied her request for visitation claiming Bella had gone quite mad, perhaps more so than before. She tried to hold back her tears as she thought that she may never see her sister truly alive again… should Wormtail fail.

She wrung her hands under her cloak waiting nervously for the arrival of her husband.

----

"Cissa?" Lucius appeared through the stone wall. There were no doors.

The tall blond woman stood. "Lucius. Oh thank Merlin." She hurried over to her emaciated looking husband. She never thought he could look worse than he had been the last time she had been there. She touched her warm hand to his face.

Lucius leaned into the touch of his wife. At that moment her touch was worth more to him than even life's breath. Her hand was soft, supple, loving. As her hand drew away to wipe a tear from her eye the cold air once again reminded him of his anger. It had been thirteen months.

"How is Draco?" Lucius asked rather stiffly. He had feared that his son would resent him. Lucius knew very well that the Dark Lord would not hesitate to punish the son for the father's mistakes.

Narcissa nodded, "As well as can be Lucius, with you gone. He misses you."

Lucius nodded and gave a relived sigh. Narcissa didn't let on that the boy had been punished in any way.

"He was with me at Bella's trial. He was a comfort." Her eyes grew sad. "They have sentenced her to the kiss Lucius. They will bring her before the dementors at dawn."

Lucius shook his head.

"They wouldn't let me see her. This could be my last chance and they wouldn't let me…" She buried her head in her husband's filthy Azkaban issued robe and began to sob harder. Lucius wrapped his arms around her. There was nothing he could say.

Knowing there was nothing she could do to comfort her sister, Narcissa yearned to at least give Lucius some hope. She longed to tell him of the Dark Lord's orders so that he could prepare for whatever Wormtail had planed. She wished more than anything that she could say something, anything to give her husband the needed strength to make it through the next twenty-four hours. It was as though by telling Lucius Voldemort's plan she would have more assurance that both her husband and her sister would be free by the dawn; back home, safe. However, she knew that that informed hope could also foil the plan. She pulled away from her husband and looked around the cell. It was likely there were spells on the room to allow the guards to hear every word they said.

She looked into her husbands eyes and willed her thoughts to him.

Lucius was warmed by her look; however, Narcissa had never been able to do Legilimency.

"I love you Lucius." She said in a soft voice.

Lucius nodded. "Cissa." He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss.

It was at that moment a tall, bulky guard came barging into the room. "That's enough. Get up Malfoy. You've had your time." They were allowed only five minutes visits.

As the guard pulled him by the arm back through the wall he gave his wife one last look, almost a smile.

Narcissa Malfoy sobbed into her hands and prayed to Merlin that Wormtail would not fail.