Upon their return to Malfoy Manor, not much could be said. Lucius took the two objects that Leveena had gathered, and she quietly followed him to the third floor, her paranoia about her wand's disappearance still weighing heavily on her. The entire floor seemed to be somewhat dark and eerie. The atmosphere was colder up here, and she didn't feel at ease in any way, shape, or form. The furthest door at the end of the hallway was the one that they passed into. She couldn't really identify what it was. There was very little furniture. Only two simple chairs that were identical to the ones at the dining table downstairs. However, these were dusty and somewhat dilapidated.

No one needed to confirm that this room wasn't used very often. With the house elves forbidden to clean up here, even Leveena confessed it was a tad suspicious. "Come," Lucius broke the awkward silence as he crossed the dust-smothered area. The floorboards creaked every time a foot stepped. On the wall furthest from the door was a green, Celtic tapestry. It had caught her eye almost immediately, because it was the only thing that wasn't devoured by soot. He wordlessly pulled aside the tapestry's material as if it were a curtain. Leveena watched anxiously as Lucius revealed a steel safe embedded in the wall. It appeared as if it had never been touched, and in fact, it wasn't even filthy. He held up his wand, muttering a spell to unlock it. It was a lot more complex than a simple Alohomora.

The box was empty. It almost seemed like he had reserved the safe for this particular reason. He put the chalice, quill, and mirror in the safe, then locked it back up. Again, he muttered the same spell to secure the lock. After covering it back up with the tapestry, he turned to face the young woman. However, he said nothing. It was hard to read his face, not entirely because of the darkness of the chamber, but because of how plain it was. Was he relieved? Angry? Determined?

Lucius made his way to the exiting door, and the blonde followed suit, certain this was a cue for her to leave. "Mr. Malfoy..." she murmured quietly, though she instantly found herself nearly stumbling on words through the tension. "What now?"

"To bed," he answered simply, directing toward the stairs that would take him downward. She stood at the top for a moment, watching him until he had turned the corner. A part of her wanted to insist knowing more about these objects. What did they do if they got in the wrong hands? Why did the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters want them so desperately?

Leveena had toyed with the idea of going back to the room, but after quickly realizing that she had no hope of opening the safe on her own, she decided against it.

Later that evening, after Lucius had retired to bed, Leveena finally took her free time to freshen up. The bathroom was connected to her own bedroom, so she didn't have to travel far - and what a relief. She didn't think she wanted the chance of bumping into Lucius in the hallway right now. Things were far too uneasy.

That shower had washed away most of her irritations and doubts. Only one seemed to linger: How much longer would she be able to pull off this safety measure until things either went back to normal or she got caught? What if Lucius's plans failed? What if he was setting her up the whole time?

As she got out of the shower, everything came tumbling back down on her. There was no permanent escape from those worries. She almost would have liked to disappear from the face of the Wizarding World so she didn't have to be tortured by this any longer. That probably would have been too kind for her.

She crawled into bed after wrapping her hair up in a towel, leaning her back against the pillows, her head pressed against the wall and she collapsed into thought. Why was Lucius Malfoy so keen on helping her? Was it really so he had a replacement for his deceased servant? Was there something up his sleeve? Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. It would have been horrible if she had just fallen into a trap of his so easily. She tried to think of happier subjects. The only thing that could really pop into her head was Leon's comforting company. An owl, of all things, put her at ease. At least it appeared that someone was on her side, as silly as it seemed.

Her sleep had been disturbed by a loud crash erupting from the first floor. Leveena had practically fallen out of her bed. She rose to her feet and pulled her robe over her bare body, which was now dry. Her hair was still up in the towel, though she had no concern in it at the time. She was determined to find out what that noise had been. She slowly opened the door and crept to the stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen just yet.

Had he hurt himself? Perhaps there was an intruder?

She descended the stairs. It was strangely silent now, to the point that suspicion poisoned the air of the manor. The lounge seemed untouched, as well as the dining room. Even the kitchen looked unoccupied and neat. However, on the other side of the dining room, opposite of the kitchen's door, there were double doors she had not yet passed through yet. They were cracked open, and a faint light could be seen on the other side. Leveena tiptoed forward and pushed open the door, stepping into what must have been Lucius's study. Speaking of which, the man himself was standing over a table, glaring at the eagle owl that was perched on the bookshelf. Both pairs of eyes turned to Leveena, as if they had been caught in a crime. There were books and shards of broken glass scattered on the floor. They must have belonged where Leon was currently placed. Apparently, he had been the cause of the deafening crash.

Lucius's face softened as he looked at his new slave. "Did he wake you?" he questioned disappointedly.

"Yeah," she responded, though she almost felt guilty for blaming anything on the innocent bird. He didn't mean anybody harm, did he? Sure enough, Leon shamefully bowed his little head, eyes casting to the fallen objects on the ground. He knew he had done wrong.

"Leave us," Lucius spoke sternly to the bird, who, without hesitance, did so. He flew past Leveena's head and out of sight, probably to hide somewhere outside of the mansion until his master's tempest flame had died out. Lucius lazily collapsed into the chair at his desk and looked at her. "Where is the list?" he demanded.

"On the table in the lounge," Leveena answered. "I had already crossed out the ones we found."

"Are they still readable?" he asked, his voice firming.

"Yes, sir," she said, the rate of her heart rising a bit. Indeed, the writing that was scratched out was still easy to read, but was she not supposed to make note of which ones they had found?

"Then, I want you to retrieve the parchment and burn it. They mustn't know what we've found."

"Yes, sir," Leveena repeated, doing as she was told. The list was in the next room and easy to locate, but before she tossed it into the embers of the fireplace, Mr. Malfoy's voice caused her to halt.

"Do you remember the others that we must find?"

"I do, sir."

"Each and every one of them - I want you to tell them to me."

"A handkerchief, a mask, a picture frame, a comb, a dagger, and..." She had to think for a moment, recalling the listed items without peering at the page. "A miniature figurine." That was left rather vague, and she doubted even Lucius knew precisely what kind of figurine they were supposed to be looking for.

"Good. Now, go ahead."

Leveena stepped towards the fireplace, emerald eyes fixated on the flickering embers before she would crumble up the paper and dispose of it into the flames. For a moment, the two of them said nothing, and just when she thought about excusing herself from the room, Lucius finally broke the silence.

"You've held yourself quite well, Leveena, despite everything. You impress me."

At first, she didn't know how to respond to this, and so settled with a mere "Thank you."

"Master," he corrected sternly, which had taken her by surprise. That was almost insulting, having to call him Master. For her sake, though, she'd do it, as humiliating as it made her feel.

"Thank you, master," she repeated. At this, Lucius appeared pleased. He leaned back and watched her for a moment, as if he was trying to look right through her robe. She sure hoped not.

"I want you to do me a favor, Leveena. No complaints, no questions. I've had a tiring meeting with the Dark Lord, so you can guarantee my patience is quite thin." There was a certain sharpness to his voice that intimidated her, and his choice of words suggested to her that she wasn't exactly going to like his next orders.

Still, she was cornered, unless she had a death wish. "Anything you need, sir -- master."

Lucius reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out what appeared to be a white handkerchief. She tossed it to her carelessly, hardly budging the rest of his body. She had staggered in order to catch it from the air. "Come here," he ordered simply. Hesitantly, she did as she was told, twiddling her fingers about the white cloth. Her heartbeat was steadily rising, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why that was. There was that familiar glint in his eye, though it was a little more obvious than she remembered it to be. "On your knees."

"W--what?" she stammered, her eyes widening to the diameter of snitches. She must have not heard him correctly.

"You heard me."

Alright, maybe she did. Unsure yet of what to anticipate, she did so, gradually lowering to the ground. She was basically kneeling before him, feeling even more pathetic than she already had thus far. Lucius looked down at her, almost appearing entertained by her low stance. Leveena was reminded of the statue of Zeus, where the mighty god sat upon his throne. One of his legs crossed over the other, a leather shoe staring her in the face. "They could do with a bit of polishing, don't you agree?"

In reality, they really didn't. His shoes looked spotless.

"I suppose, but…you've given me no polish."

"Improvise, Leveena. You know precisely what I want you to do."

Unfortunately, she did. She didn't want to do it. It was degrading! Regardless of what she had promised him, she almost could not see herself spit-shining any person's shoes. She closed her eyes and conjured up a hint of saliva onto the cloth he had given her, then rubbed it onto the shoe elevated before her. The whole time, she was cursing herself, unable to believe that she was so easily beaten down by his threatening stare. If she refused, there would be hell to pay. Lucius would ensure it.

Eyes were closed as she repeated her process, but her ears were constantly open, awaiting for him to tell her to stop. She was mentally pleading for it. She heard him eventually, and jumped at his next demand. "Lick it." She cringed at the thought of it. Licking leather? That would not be any fun. After a second or so of hating herself - especially hating him - she lowered the cloth from her lips and knelt down to run the tip of her tongue along the hood of his shoe. The taste of leather made her twitch in disgust, but she continued regardless. Eventually, the shoe had moved away from her, and Lucius switched the intersecting of his legs. Now the other shoe was waiting for some polishing. Highly embarrassed and insulted, Leveena shut her eyes and cringed as she licked around the top of the shoe. After about half a minute, she heard him make another command. "Wipe them clean." She pulled away quickly, trying to ignore that awful, leathery taste in her mouth as she rubbed the cloth on both of his shoes. She was staring at the ground the entire time, but was brought back to reality when she heard something that sounded an awful lot like a [i]zip/i]! All her movement ceased. She was frozen in time, it seemed, stuck at a fork in the road. Should she deny him now and lend her life to the darkest wizard ever known? Or should she allowed herself to be lowered to standards of vermin?

"Look at me," she heard him say.

Her eyes lifted from the ground, though before they could catch his face, they caught something else that nearly mortified her. His erection was standing up in front of her, appearing as if it was almost towering over her. It was beyond intimidating. Quickly, she turned her green eyes to the floor again, a gasp intruding her lungs. [i]"Look at me,"/i] he repeated in a more stern, demanding voice. She jumped and quickly looked up to his face, trying so hard to skip the large organ that he had released. As their eyes locked, Lucius's lips curled into a minor smirk. "You've never done this before, have you? That's precious." He leaned toward her, his index finger and thumb taking a gentle hold of her chin. He pulled her forward, and she closed her eyes tightly as she came closer. "I'll lead you through it. I promise you, it isn't as scary as you might think."

He promised? That was funny. Setting up a dirty little trap like this. Who would trust him?

She felt a tug on her face, and had forgotten that his temper was short this evening. If she denied him too much, the penalty could be unspeakable. Maybe it could be a hit across the face, or maybe, with the rate that things were going now, he just might rape her.

She took in a deep breath and leaned in further, her lips brushing lightly against his waiting shaft. She felt his hands linger to the towel on her head, unwrapping it and letting her damp, blonde hair fall along her shoulders and arms. The towel was tossed aside as she continued to brush her mouth against his skin. It was then that she felt a strange surge that told her this wasn't so bad. In fact, after a few moments of getting started, it was almost…delightful.

Her tongue broke from her lips to stroke him now, working in up-and-down movements up until she was ready to take him in. She slowly wrapped her mouth around the head of his erection, sucking on it lightly before glancing up at him. She had been curious as to if she was doing this properly. Apparently, she was, for he was gazing down at her with those icy eyes, which were now filled with a crystalline lust. "See? I told you it wasn't so bad," he mumbled, lacing his fingers through her hair as she continued. He was right. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as she had anticipated. She almost smiled as she felt his body arch up ever so slightly. She was doing it right. "Very good," she heard him groan, then felt his fingers grip onto the back of her head. "I could possibly call you a natural."

She didn't stop. Instead, she sped it up a notch, her tongue working in harmony with her lips as she aimed to please her master. It had to be about ten minutes of that when she could feel the climatic pulsing of his erection. He was getting close. She almost didn't know what to do at this point. Would she swallow it? Would she spit it out? She always figured spitting it might be rude, so she might as well manage with swallowing. Eventually, a warm, thick substance shot out to the roof of her mouth and onto her tongue. She twitched at the texture, but the taste wasn't all as dissatisfying. She quickly swallowed it, using her tongue to clean off the excess from the head. Once she pulled away, Lucius's eyes were still fixed on her, filled with an amazement that she had yet to see up until now.

"Impressive," he whispered, stroking the side of her face with his knuckles. She could feel a funny, tingling sort of sensation on her tongue.

"Yes, it was," she replied with a small smile.

Lucius slowly rose to his feet, taking her hand and lifting her up as well. "You'd better get some rest, Leveena," he purred into her ear, "maybe tomorrow I'll repay you." Just the seductive tone that he used was enough to drive her wild and nearly up the wall of the study. She froze, feet planting against the carpet.

"Yes, master." Now, addressing him as such seemed a bit easier. Perhaps using it might keep him to his word.

She closed her eyes as she savored the feel of his breath against her neck. Once she opened her eyes, however, all those sensations had ceased to exist. The room was dark, and she was lying on her back. There was still a dampness on her head from the towel encasing her hair, and sheets enveloped her.

It was just a dream. How on earth could she get such ideas like that? Was she truly becoming that corrupt to the point that she had such odd, erotic fantasies about Lucius? She didn't even have a shoe fetish! She stared up at the ceiling, which she could barely see through the darkness of her bedroom. There was no source of light outside. Not even a moon.

It took what felt like hours for her to drift back into a dreamless sleep. The next morning, Leveena had changed into a simple, blue dress that came from her own wardrobe. She went down into the lounge to see that Lucius was sitting in the recliner, reading the Daily Prophet. He hadn't even looked up, though it wasn't as if he hadn't heard her pitter-patter down the stairwell. Leon was sitting on the back of the chair, looking at the paper as if he could comprehend the text. It was silent for a moment, up until Lucius's voice could be heard from behind the parchment.

"Have a seat." She did so, feeling so oddly disoriented from her dream. She couldn't look him in the face, otherwise he'd know she was highly flustered for some reason or another. No way in hell would she confess the truth. It would be the death of her.

His next words had stunned her, and all over again, the same glint in his eyes could be spotted as he folded up the Daily Prophet and set it on the table. Mischief was dripping from every syllable he spoke. "How did you sleep?"