A/N: As with all HP characters: I DO NOT own them! They belong solely to J.K. Rowling. Sadly, I also do not own Jason Isaacs. He belongs solely to himself.

I do, however, own all the original characters: Eliah, Tobias, Naxxus and all the places you've never heard of. They belong solely to my overly active imagination.

To Not Back Down

As he moved away, he realised that Eliah was not going to back down. And Lucius, having never backed away from anyone, grew angry.

Very angry.

The sneer appeared, the eyes grew cold, and the icy steel composure, though it had wavered but a moment, returned.

"Perhaps, Miss Knight, your time in Deorum did not teach you anything? I do not know why, nor do I care, it is that you were imprisoned in such a place, but it is obvious, that you did not stay long enough," his gaze lingered on her for a moment, "However, I assure you, that you, like Azkaban, will not break me."

Eliah's face darkened considerably. In an instant though, it had softened to it's vividly pale appearance.

She gazed into his grey eyes, searching for a reason to hurt him, but there was nothing.

Except...

She shook her head.

That was not there. It could not be, that a Malfoy, was falling into a pit, that they could not climb out of...one, that they would never have admitted to falling into at all.

It simply, did not exist.

But, she reasoned, she had seen that exact thing in those cold, dangerous eyes. The way he gazed at her...although it was a chilly gaze, it held more then he would ever have cared to mention.

Or, she thought, to feel.

Her thoughts drifted to a long passed memory. A memory, that she knew he had forgotten, but she had retained.

This was not her first visit to the Manor. No, she had been here before.

Several times.

The first...when she had been a mere child. Even then, she knew Lucius Malfoy, but only as the young man he was. She had looked upon him, not only as her Father's old friend, but as a King...

...then the second visit.

She was coming of age...seventeen in the Wizard world...and now, when she had looked upon him, he was a god amongst men. She had looked upon Lucius Malfoy with need...want and desire.

And he, had not noticed her at all. It had felt as if she had not existed. At least, not in the way she had wanted to, but only as the teenage daughter of Tobias Knight.

The memories faded into the present, and when she looked up, it was to see all three men watching her.

She smiled coldly.

"Memories, Mr. Malfoy, of things best left alone. I wish not to think of Deorum again, as I am sure, you wish to leave Azkaban in the past."

"Yes, I agree." he bowed slightly to her.

She smiled again...the memories had crept upon her unbidden, and she blushed a deep shade of pink. What would he think of her now?

She shook her head, yet again, and looked at Lucius.

"There are, however, such memories as only two individuals can share. I share those of my Father...of visiting the Manor before." she gazed at him thoughtfully.

He watched her and she, him. The understanding of shared memories was, as she assumed, not lost on him. To assume anything about the Malfoys, and indeed, the Knights, was to assume that you would live forever.

And that, by far, was the most dangerous thing to do.

Lucius turned his head, glared at Snape, and turned back to Eliah. Before he could speak, she placed her fingers to his lips, and smiled. He made no move to remover them, and she felt the faint brush of his lips against her fingers.

"I did not exist to you, Mr. Malfoy, save only as Tobias' daughter. But you," she stopped, suddenly unsure of what she was saying. Her cheeks took on a pinkish tint, and she hurried on.

"You, however, existed for me."

He smiled slowly.

"I see. And, how did I exist to you?"

She blushed a bit more.

"It is best left unsaid. The memories and dreams, of a young woman from the past, have no place in the present."

Lucius titled his head, again sending the blonde hair falling over his shoulder. And again, the memories, the dreams, the desires...they flooded over her. And in the part of her that long for it, a tiny voice screamed...

...if he but touched her, she knew she would break under his touch...

As her fingers played along his lips, he smiled the smile of an evil and dangerous man.

She shivered.

"And now? How do you see me in the present?"

When she did not answer, he reached up, and took her by the wrist. He applied only a bit of pressure, but she still gasped, as if he had squeezed as hard as she knew he could.

But, he had touched her...

Only a small touch...

It was all that was needed.

He sneered coolly at her. He arched his brow, and pulling her closer as Tobias and Snape watched, he purred softly into her ear.

It was a deadly sound...

"I could snap the brittle bones beneath your skin," his breathe was hot upon her face, and he squeezed her wrist a little more, "They are so delicate, so fine, and the blood that feeds them...the puriest blood..."

She trembled against him...not out of fear, but out of something much more deadly...

...desire.

He brushed his lips litely against her cheek, and her control began to break...

"I could kill you, do you realise that? Yes, I think you do. I am a Deatheater, which means, I have killed for far less...knowing what you do, do you still look upon me with the same desire? The same want and need of the young woman?"

She felt his lips again, brush her flesh, and the rest of her control spiralled away from her.

She did not answer him.

"I think you do." he whispered into her hair. "The young Witch from the past..."

"No longer exists..."

He ignored the words, as if she had never uttered them.

In fact, he had ignored everyone around them, and continued to do so...

"I could kill you.."

He smiled that dangerous and evil smile again. She gasped once more, at the firm, yet unmistakibly gentle, pressure he had applied to her wrist..

"But why kill, that which is mine? That has always been mine... that belongs to me, and will always, belong to me."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, and it was at that moment, she her Father say to Snape...

"What do you think Lucius' intentions are, Snape?"

Snape laughed coldly.

"The Dark Vow, of course."

Tobias laughed.

"Of course."

She looked to the man who held her, and he smiled...cold and deadly.

And she knew then, who the real Dark Lord was.

Not Voldemort.

It was Lucius Malfoy.