A/N : Thank you very much to those of you who decided to follow my story and extra-special thanks to the people who left me reviews. Glad you like the story so far!

Le Droit du Seigneur

Chapter II: Fire in the Blood

The Malfoy family was in deep trouble, there was no doubt about it.

Draco clutched his glass of firewhiskey and stared up at the carvings on the ceiling, one leg hooked over the arm of his chair. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn over the windows and he couldn't tell if it was day or night outside. He also couldn't tell how many drinks he'd had, which made him feel somewhat vindicated. Was it not his duty as a son to mourn his parents' unfortunate predicament? Just because he chose to do so by drowning his worries in alcohol did not make his feelings about the matter any less valid. The whole thing was becoming intolerable and only the fire in the aptly-name firewhiskey seemed to help him brood adequately. Just as he was contemplating asking one of the elves for a new bottle, Draco was pulled from his torpor by an unexpected sound. Somewhere in the depths of Malfoy Manor, the doorbell rang.

'The doorbell never rings' was the first thought that entered his mind. The Muggles were too afraid to come up to the Manor and most of the wizard families who lived on their lands hated the Malfoys with a passion. Anyone vaguely interesting would be using apparition or the floo network. Groaning, Draco roused himself from the chair and moved towards the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to wince at the morning sunlight. Squinting against it, he saw an opulent black carriage drawn by four thestrals standing in the driveway.

"No… No! Don't let her in!"

Draco turned and ran towards the door, shouting, his newfound headache pounding louder than his footsteps on the cold marble floor. Bursting into the corridor, he ran as quickly as possible towards the grand staircase leading into the entrance hall.

"Perky, no! Don't open that door!"

"Well hello, nephew. Nice to see you too."

Stopping in his tracks at the top of the stairs, Draco allowed himself to fall back against the wall with a moan. It was too late. Why had he been drinking? Why wasn't he having his breakfast like a normal, civilised person at this normal, civilised hour? Perhaps he would have been able to stop her then, although people were seldom able to stop Bellatrix Lestrange from doing something she had set her mind on, not even family. Dropping a trunk on top of Perky the house elf, Bellatrix glided up the stairs to where he was standing. She was wearing a dark green dress that clung tightly to her body and a black cloak trimmed with black ostrich feathers. They tickled Draco's nose as she kissed him forcefully on the cheek.

"What are you doing here?" he croaked, struggling to get his voice back.

"Cheer up, will you? One might think you'd been abandoned to your own devices…"

"I was. There's nothing wrong with that. I don't need you here."

"Nonsense," Bellatrix laughed, already turning away from him to inspect the carpet on the landing. "Someone's got to help you hold the fort."

"I was managing fine on my own," Draco said.

He did not get on with his Aunt Bellatrix under the best of circumstances. When he was a child, she was forever pinching his cheek with her long, talon-like nails and telling him he would grow into a fine Death Eater one day, just like his father. 'Like my father,' Draco scoffed. 'Look where that landed him…' To have her with him at Malfoy Manor now, in such delicate circumstances, was sure to drive him over the brink.

"Pesky! Fetch me a lucidity potion," he snapped.

Pesky, Perky's twin brother, appeared on the landing with a sharp crack, bowed and nodded, and disappeared again. Thank goodness for well-trained house elves. He was not looking forward to watching Bellatrix mess with them to pass the time. His mother would be furious when she came home… if she ever came home.

"I take it the Dark Lord let you go?" he asked of Bellatrix's back as she started off down the hallway, fingering statues and vases as she went.

"What? Oh, he never had me in the first place," his aunt said, snickering. Draco rolled his eyes. "He took Roddy while I was shopping in Knockturn Alley. Came home to an empty house and a load of squeaking house elves. So now I'm here."

Draco sighed. Bellatrix was his mother's sister. Even though they weren't the best of friends, Narcissa Malfoy would have wanted her son to offer shelter to her older sister in times of crisis. This, if any, was certainly a time of crisis. Much to his chagrin, Draco couldn't think of a way to get rid her that wouldn't result in dire punishment at a later date, especially if something happened to her as a consequence of his actions.

"Fine," he muttered. "Just don't start changing things, you know Mother doesn't like that. And don't get in my way."

"Get in your way for what? Were you planning on holding a ball? I doubt your parents would appreciate you lounging about with your little friends, drinking and throwing parties, while they rot in the Dark Lord's cells."

Bellatrix stared at him and after a moment, Draco realised she was being serious. 'She's going to be worse than Mother…' He had to fight not to groan at the thought. All he needed was another tortured soul waiting alongside him for news, any kind of news…

"I'm not throwing parties! But if you can think of a better way to pass the time than drinking, please let me know!"

Pushing back a strand of stray hair, Draco turned his back on her, fully intent on going back to the library. Pesky would bring him the lucidity potion and he would spend the day avoiding Bellatrix and the constant reminder she brought with her that things were not as they should be. Not that Draco needed a reminder, but he didn't particularly want to discuss his feelings with his aunt. Only yesterday had he received another curt note from Peter Pettigrew informing him that his parents were to be detained at the Dark Lord's pleasure for an indefinite amount of time until the Swindon fiasco could be resolved. Draco had cursed loudly, causing one of the house elves who was lighting a fire in the grate to run squealing from the room. What did his mother have to do with what had happened in Swindon? She and Draco had been at home that night. Only Draco's father Lucius had attended the gathering with Lord Voldmort's most trusted Death Eaters, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange among them. Besides, who cared that Walden Macnair had got himself killed in the middle of an attack on a family of Muggles? There was the small matter that the cause of death had been due to a killing curse, but Draco thought the Dark Lord was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Nobody liked Macnair and his creepy habits anyway. Yet Lord Voldemort seemed convinced that the Death Eaters had a traitor in their midst and had subsequently imprisoned as many of the people present on that night, as well as any other family members who got in the way, as he could lay his hands on. Like his Aunt Bellatrix, Draco had been away from home when Voldemort had come for his father. He could only guess that his mother had tried to put up a fight, as she was now rotting in a cell alongside her husband. Draco had absolutely no idea what he could do to get them out of there and it was driving him crazy.

"Well actually, there might be something…"

He'd already walked some way down the hall and almost didn't hear Bellatrix's words.

"What was that?"

"There might be a way. It will certainly amuse you and it might also give you the opportunity to bring the family back into Lord Voldemort's good books."

Turning towards her, Draco tried not to show too much interest. He was not the bravest person at the best of times, but he was not above putting himself out there for his family's safety. As long as it didn't involve too much pain, at least on his end…

"Who do I have to kill?"

"Oh no," Bellatrix laughed, walking towards him. "Nothing like that. I would call it… 'having a little fun', dear nephew. Nothing very sordid at all."

Draco eyed her wearily. Aunt Bellatrix's idea of fun involved kittens, and not in a good way. More than once, he'd overheard his father talking to his mother about 'cleaning up your damned sister's messes'. If Draco thought about it, it wasn't all that surprising that Lord Voldemort had failed to capture Bellatrix along with her husband. She was one of his favourites and he was notoriously lenient where her shortcomings were concerned. Anyone the Dark Lord favoured was not to be trusted too closely, in Draco's opinion.

"You see, as I was travelling here, I happened to notice that several other witches and wizards were heading in this general direction on various modes of magical transport. Such large gatherings are rare and so I took a little detour. They didn't see me of course, but I saw them… Did you know that you have a wizard wedding taking place on this very day inside your very own lands, Draco Malfoy?"

Leaning against the wall, Draco crossed his arms and let out a sigh. Women and weddings… goodness knows where she was going with this.

"No. Why should I care? Was I supposed to be invited?"

"As acting Lord of Malfoy Manor and its surrounding lands, yes. In actual fact, I suspect your father probably received an owl about it a while ago. Does he usually attend?"

"Not unless it's anyone of importance, no. He always says 'let peasants be peasants'."

There was a definite glint in Bellatrix's eye that caught his attention, but Draco pretended not to be too interested. Until Pesky returned with the lucidity potion, he didn't feel up to trashing some poor sod's wedding. Speaking of potions, where was the bloody elf?

"What if the peasants are important peasants? What does he do then?"

Draco merely shook his head at her. He hated when she played games, but he knew that getting angry with her would only make her withhold the information longer. So he kept quiet and waited, feet itching to take him somewhere dark and quiet instead.

"Tell me, dear nephew… do the names Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger mean anything to you?"

Draco almost asked 'why, are they invited?' before he stopped himself. The Weasel had always had a soft spot for his little Mudblood friend during their years at Hogwarts. He hadn't seen either of them since they'd all graduated, but news of their impending union hardly came as a surprise. 'How amusing indeed… turns out Granger is too stupid to find herself a better husband… well perhaps that makes them well-suited to each other then.' Immediately, his throbbing head began to fill with thoughts of setting the buffet on fire or cursing Ron to start squawking like a chicken in the middle of his vows. A slow grin spread across his face.

"Alright, that does sound like fun. What are we doing? Using cloaking spells and sneaking up during the ceremony? Maybe we could make Granger's dress disappear… not that there would be much worth seeing underneath…"

Draco was lost for a moment in imagining what might be hiding under Hermione Granger's wedding dress. It was not something he'd thought about before, but the idea stuck in his mind in a way that disturbed him. 'Why should I care?' he thought, shaking his head ever so slightly. 'She's a filthy, disgusting Mudblood well beneath any decent wizard's consideration.'

"So crude, just as I feared," Bellatrix sighed, grabbing hold of his shoulder. "How do you expect to regain the Dark Lord's favour and free your parents with a few childish pranks?"

Noting that she didn't include her own husband in the list of people to be freed, Draco shook his head.

"I'm not. You just talked about having a little fun. That's what I expect to get out of it, nothing else."

Bellatrix tutted and shook her head. "No ambition, my dear boy. That's the problem with Malfoy men, always content to hide until the problem is resolved by someone else. This is your chance do prove yourself, Draco. Not only will you show the Dark Lord that you are willing to hurt Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers in the worst possible way, you will also get revenge for the years of torment Harry Potter and his friends subjected you to."

Draco scoffed, before realising that Bellatrix's misguided notion on who was to blame for his troubles in school was largely his fault. Many a time during his early years at Hogwarts had Draco come home crying, blaming everything and anything he could think of on the Gryffindor trio. While they were certainly not innocent of landing him in trouble on several occasions, he realised that his entire family must view Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger as a pack of bloodthirsty monsters by now. Although he regretted whingeing about them so pathetically, the idea that they needed to pay dearly for all the wrongs they had caused him (namely, landing him in detention with most of the professors at Hogwarts) amused him even more. Perhaps it was time for a little payback after all.

"What did you have in mind?"

"You weren't all that far off, actually, when you mentioned getting rid of Granger's dress… I trust your father taught you all about the laws that govern wizarding property?"

Biting his lip, Draco debated how much of the truth he could get away with. Lucius had tried, on several occasions, to get him interested in the numerous large volumes that took up an entire shelf in the library, but Draco couldn't say he'd paid much attention to them. He'd been too busy practicing the Cruciatus Curse on flies instead. Not trusting himself to speak, he shrugged. Bellatrix's scowl lasted only a few seconds, however, before her lips turned upwards in a grin that raised the fine hairs on the back of Draco's neck.

"Let me tell you about a little something called le droit du seigneur."

A/N: voilà, hope you liked it. As you can probably guess, I'm going to be alternating POVs between Hermione and Draco so we get the full scope of the story. If you enjoyed it, you know what to do!