NOTE

WARNING for disturbing/violent sexual content. The worst of it takes place between the lines "'Go on. Clothes off, little duck,'" and the only section break in the chapter–although some of the content outside those boundaries may also be upsetting.

29. Lucius

The sky cleared a bit as I flew over Wiltshire, and the full moon was visible in a bed of ghostly clouds. I thought of Remus, but put him out of my mind. It was too painful, imagining his pain. I would have to put many things out of my mind to survive tonight.

My nervousness was beginning to catch up to me. I trembled as I flew, and it wasn't just from the chill in the air. The decision I'd made had been self-destructive at best. But it was far too late to change it now, and my strong feelings against going to bed with Bill remained–though I knew he would accept me, even at such short notice, if it meant saving me from Lucius Malfoy.

I felt Fred's presence urging me to follow this path of logic further, but shoved the impulse down. I had made my choice and would go through with it, even if it was only out of blind, idiotic stubbornness.

Though I had never been to the Malfoy Manor before, it was easy to find. It lay a ways from the nearest tiny old village, in the midst of secluded countryside. Dark green fields stretched out all around, there was a shining pond, long stone walls trailing away, and a stretch of woods, black in the nighttime darkness. The Manor itself was enormous by anyone's standards, but at the sight of it, I couldn't help muttering, "Bloody hell," to myself. A few of the large mullioned windows were lit, and the light was deceivingly warm.

I landed on the broad, long pathway that led directly to the manor, hedges rising on either side. The size of it was even more astonishing from the ground. Practically a palace, it had multiple turrets rising from the roof. I swallowed down my intimidation as I dismounted my broomstick and gathered my bearings. I might have been a lamb to the slaughter, but I wasn't going to behave as such.

From my cloak pocket I pulled the pouch which held the two vials of potion from Pippin's. I left the Dreamless Sleep inside, but the Draught of Peace I put in the pocket of my trousers.

Again I sensed a questioning from the wand. Although it sensed my anxiety, it was also very powerful. I felt its protectiveness in my whole body, and was a bit less afraid.

Carrying the broomstick at my side, I patted my pocket for the umpteenth time to make sure the Draught of Peace was there, and approached the front doors. There was a tall, intimidating knocker, in the shape of a screaming snake. I gripped it and knocked three times.

The door was answered by a silent little boy, who I assumed was a servant. The Malfoys and other similar families had been out of luck since the end of the war; house elves had been removed from households with evidence of abuse. But from the nervous look of the dark-eyed boy, the human servants weren't being treated much better.

The entryway alone was magnificent and terrible. The walls were panelled with dark wood, and the floors were a thoroughly polished ebony, so dark it looked like stone. The ceiling was vaulted, and tall black candles glowed in snake-shaped sconces. The boy led me to a cloak room, and then quickly walked out, his footsteps pattering into the distance. I kept my ears out for any sound as I took off my cloak, and leaned the broomstick against the wall. My hands were shaking as I patted my trousers pocket yet again. The vial was still there. I held fast to my wand, determined to keep it with me–though it was poor etiquette to do so, when one was a guest.

I stepped out of the small room and waited for the boy to return. It took quite a long time. I was on the verge of calling out, when I heard footsteps approaching from the top of a black marble staircase. These were no boy's footsteps, and I drew in a shuddering breath as I prepared to face Lucius.

He appeared little by little. His shining black boots, his black clothes, his unfeeling blue eyes and white hair. I had not had cause to see him since the war, and the sight of him brought back a response I hadn't had to feel in some time.

After the war he had been held briefly in Azkaban while awaiting his trial, but had afterward been set free. The Ministry had been too lenient in my opinion with some of the former Death Eaters. He was let go mostly because he had never killed anyone. Severus himself had testified that Lucius had done only the bare minimum, as much as he'd needed to survive under the regime of the Dark Lord. Still, I held a deep scorn for the man. He had shared bread with the faceless wizard who had injured me beyond repair in the forbidden forest on the night of the battle. He had shared secrets and ideals with Voldemort, not only in the recent war, but in the first. He was a cruel person, and I had no room in my heart to pity him.

He assessed me icily. I detected, deep behind his eyes, a look of unnerving triumph.

"You're ten minutes late," he said, his tone cold and privileged. "I nearly sent away the family doctor."

I realised that the mediwizard would be there for the purpose of conducting the examination afterward. In my anxiety about the act itself, I had forgotten about that lovely little addition.

"I apologise," I said, my voice steady, entirely disconnected from my emotions. I had been unprepared to actually face Lucius, who had caused so much destruction, fear, and pain, to everyone I held dear. Had the circumstances been any different, I would have taken the opportunity to curse him. But as things stood, I knew I was required to show him a kind of twisted respect. If he turned me away, I would be at the mercy of the Ministry.

He looked at me closely, and I saw him note the state of my clothes. I hadn't given any thought to what I'd worn, but now realised that the shabbiness of my regular clothes likely made some nasty part of him recoil. I hoped that my obvious lack of money would make me as unappealing to him as he was to me.

I had begun to grip my wand rather tightly. Lucius spotted it. His cold eyes moved down to appraise the wand, and he moved as though to take it. But my hand jerked backward. The reflex had felt just as much the wand's will, as it had been my own. I didn't want him to touch it. Clearly it felt the same.

Lucius's lips flinched into a cold smile. "Hawthorn," he observed. "Same as Draco's."

I gave a terse nod.

"I'm sure you won't be needing it," he said.

I wasn't so sure, but I thought it unwise to disobey him. It was his house, after all. I turned into the coatroom and left the wand in the pocket of my cloak, having to deliberately block out its aggravation at being abandoned so early as I stepped out again.

"Very good," said Lucius. His tone was silken with entitlement, and I kept down the nauseous feeling in my belly. Then he turned, and began walking towards the staircase. His long pale hair shone in the strange candlelight. "Follow me."

The manor seemed even larger on the inside than it did from without. The hallways and staircases felt even more maze-like than those of Hogwarts, and I began to wonder, with a bit of paranoia, whether he was leading me in circles to disorient me on purpose. My wand arm itched, and I could feel the presence of the wand from downstairs, waiting impatiently for me to return. I hoped it wouldn't be too long until I did.

It was excruciatingly quiet. There was only the sound of Lucius's commanding footsteps, and my softer ones. I didn't hear the evidence of another soul, though the aforementioned doctor must have been hiding somewhere. I wondered where the boy had disappeared to, and wished he was nearby. To be aware of another presence in the house would have been comforting. But I would have no such comfort.

Finally Lucius stopped in front of a tall door, and opened it. "After you," he said.

The floor was the same dark ebony as the entryway, and the walls were similarly panelled. Though they seemed darker, if that were possible. There was one large window looking out over the dark grounds. Black clouds had swallowed up the moonlight, and for that, I was grateful. The only light was provided by the green flames, licking and flickering silently in the fireplace. I glanced at the fire. It reminded one of snakes.

I stopped myself from jumping when Lucius closed the door. His boots made a cold sound as he crossed the room. I kept still. He went to a small table near the fireplace, which held glasses and a decanter.

"Our own Superior Red, eighteen ninety-three," he informed me, beginning to pour.

"No, thank you," I said. I would not be taking even a single sip of his pureblood wine, thank you very much.

He looked at me with a mock surprise that made me want to be sick.

Merlin. What am I doing here.

"Very well." His voice was impossibly cold. It made my skin numb. Everything about this felt like a performance. Even if I'd wanted to, I doubted I could see him as truly human.

I had already begun to worry about when I could slip away to take my potion, which felt like a stone in my pocket. Perhaps I should have taken it downstairs in the cloak room. As I thought this, I realised that that would have been the most sensible option, and cursed myself for my stupidity. But it was too late now.

The only sound in the room was the sound of the wine pouring into a glass. Lucius replaced the lid of the decanter, and stood looking out the window, his back to me, as he sipped.

I wondered how long he would remain that way. If I was quick, I could down the potion now.

"It is unfortunate, about your husband."

My blood simmered. The Draught of Peace was swept from my mind. I kicked myself. The Ministry selecting Lucius as one of my options would ensure that the news about Remus having left me would spread like wildfire amongst all the wrong people. And that would decrease the chances that he would come back.

I want to kill you, I thought frankly, as I looked at the brutal man in front of me.

My thoughts must have been evident in my eyes, for Lucius's coldness somehow increased. For the first time, I sensed a wave of real danger emanating from him.

"It is a true shame that he couldn't control himself. Not even for the sake of a wife so lovely."

His eyes slowly dragged over my body, undressing it, violating it. By the time they'd returned to my own, his vile intentions were terribly clear. His mouth took on an expression of pity. "This must be very difficult for you."

I looked at him with blank eyes. "Let's be done with it, shall we?" I said.

He smirked. I sensed that I had said the wrong thing as he took another sip of his wine, and slowly returned to the table, where he set the glass down beside the decanter.

I shouldn't have come here. I realised that fully now, and my heart sank. But I was deep within the trap of the manor, with no way out.

My wand was downstairs.

Fuck.

"Don't think this is the first time I've noticed you." His drawling voice snaked across the room. I couldn't hide the affronted look in my eyes. "Oh, yes. The loveliest witch in your year. I would have encouraged Draco to take you for his own, if it weren't for your… very unfortunate lineage. Just so I could sneak a taste of you. And now…"

He had made his way so slowly towards me that I had barely noticed. Now he stood all too close. He was not so tall as Remus, but was clearly much stronger. He could knock me down badly if he wanted to.

His next words were almost a whisper. "Time rewards the patient."

I couldn't help but recoil as he reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. What I had initially seen merely as attempts at seduction by a damaged and sociopathic man, had twisted into something else entirely.

He frowned at my response to his nearness, and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Well, that kind of behaviour won't get us anywhere, will it?" he said. "Or am I to presume that you don't want it quickly over with?"

I forced myself to hold still as he reached forward again, and this time his cold skin brushed against mine as he tucked my hair behind my ear. He tugged it sharply as he did so, and I couldn't keep the wince from my face.

He was too close. But I was going to have to tolerate his closeness. His fingertips stroked my hair where it ached, and I felt my heart thundering, my mind already beginning to float away as his lips parted and loomed close to my ear.

"I very much hoped you would come tonight. I want you to know, I am going to savour every moment of this."

One last surge of panic welled up in me. My last chance to flee. But I didn't take it.

Lucius surged forward with paralysing power, and gripped my mouth in a hard kiss. With one hand he firmly held my head in place, while the other hand roamed terribly over my body. It was not long not long before his fingers encountered the vial in my pocket.

My heart sank.

"What's this?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

My throat had closed with fear. I couldn't respond. He shook the vial in front of my face, as though I were very slow, and he needed to indicate the subject of his question.

"Planning to use this, were you?"

He held it up to his eye, looking at it. I realised I'd been holding my breath as he took it slowly across the room, but I couldn't make myself reach for it; couldn't even make myself inhale. He made his way towards the fireplace and then threw the vial down into the silent green flames, where I heard it shatter.

He chuckled at the dead look in my eyes. "Pity."

He picked up his glass from before and took a long drink. Then he set it down with a muted sound, and began to remove his clothes.

I watched, mortified. I was rooted to the spot and unable to look away.

All too soon he stood in front of me completely naked. Cords of muscle wrapped around his body. He radiated sexual power. He was watching me, seeming to derive great pleasure from my paralysis. Though his eyes were winter-blue, they suddenly seemed black.

I couldn't help but notice him growing erect. It was frightening. But even more frightening was the sight of the white scar marring his left forearm, where his dark mark had once been, and the Azkaban numbers tattooed on his neck.

The coldness in his eyes was making room for something else. A very cruel and burning lust.

I was shaking. He smiled.

"Go on. Clothes off, little duck."

I hardly felt my own body moving as I mindlessly did what I was told. I started with my trousers and knickers, and hesitated when I came to my jumper. Anticipating my hopes, Lucius lowered his chin. "Ah-ah," he warned. "Everything. I want to look at you."

I pulled my jumper over my head, and unbuttoned my shirt. It fluttered to the floor, and I looked down at it. Why had I worn that one? It was my favourite one. Not anymore, after tonight.

I was naked, protected by nothing. I might have crossed my arms over myself, if my arms weren't limp and useless.

A cold shudder passes his lips and seems to freeze all of the air in the room. "Go to the bed," he murmured.

But I couldn't. I knew I should obey, to make this easier in the only way I could–by submitting. But I couldn't make myself move a muscle.

Lucius crossed the room slowly, like a prowling lynx. I felt my body shrink as he grew nearer. "Don't be frightened–" he said. But the last word was forced through gritted teeth as he roughly grabbed my wrists and held them behind my back. He ravaged my mouth again, and this time bit my lower lip–hard. Blood poured into my mouth, coppery and hot. My lip throbbed and stung. I gasped, and almost choked as the blood slid down my throat.

I wanted to protest, to tell him he didn't have to hurt me. But my mind was already filled with fog, and I knew that to say anything would only encourage him to make it worse. He grinned, my blood on his teeth, and lowered his mouth to suck on my lip, tasting the blood.

I was no fool. I hadn't been expecting a patient and respectful encounter, as between lovers. But I also hadn't expected a repeat of what had happened in the forbidden forest. This was beginning to feel dreadfully similar.

He gripped my neck tightly in his hand and threw me backward onto the bed. I lay there for a second, wheezing in terror as he came over me, flipping my body over onto my belly in one harsh, powerful movement. I could hear his deep groans as he caressed my buttocks and my lower back.

Move, said a voice in my head, which I realised was my own. Fight.

But I couldn't.

"Is this from him?" Lucius said, tracing the scar Remus had given me on the night of the last full moon. The next moment, Lucius himself was clawing at my back, his fingernails going even deeper than Remus's had–and Lucius knew what he was doing.

Then he was seizing my hips and digging his fingernails deep, until I could feel bruises forming. He reached one hand underneath me, his own hips keeping my legs forced apart as he rubbed hard circles against my most sensitive part. He kept it up for what must have been a minute, with the prowess of an evil snake.

"Oh, good little girl," he said, as I whimpered helplessly.

I was ashamed to feel my own slickness on his fingers when his hand returned to my hip. I knew what was coming next, but I still wasn't prepared for the pain and humiliation which drowned my entire body and soul when he nudged at my entrance, and then thrusted forward into me.

The only sounds in the room were his breathy grunting and the shameful sound of the connection his body forced on mine. I gripped the blankets with my hands, and gritted my teeth. His movements were pulling at my injured lip, and there was blood in my mouth and on the bedcovers. I held my breath, determined not to make a sound, though I wanted to scream.

Lucius sensed my determination, and grew rougher. I felt like nothing but a rag doll, strengthless as he forced my hips backward, driving mercilessly against the innermost part of me. Tears of shock leaked from my eyes. I heard a cry of pain, and realised it was my own.

He moaned, a disgusting sound. "Good girl," he purred.

I let myself continue to cry, giving him what he wanted. He finished quickly after that.

He collapsed on me, his full weight knocking the breath from me as I was pushed deep into the mattress. I felt his cold sweat on my body, and the sickening slime of his release inside of me.

He was still panting in my ear. "Rookwood was right," he said, his voice restored to its former cold distance. "You're an awfully good fuck." He caressed my back with terrible mock tenderness. "The wolf was mad to leave you."

I couldn't stop myself. I sobbed into the blankets which nearly suffocated me. My lower lip curled as my face contorted with grief, and the cut opened deeper. Rookwood. I knew that name all too well.

I felt the wicked satisfaction in Lucius's hands as he turned me over. He frowned, and summoned his wand from his clothes by the green fire. "I trust you'll tell no-one of this," he said, as he hovered his wand over my lower belly. I felt a slight pinch, and I realised that it was a contraceptive charm. Of course. He would never willingly sire a child by a muggle born witch. I knew that the entire purpose of tonight was the opportunity, in the eyes of the Ministry, for me to become pregnant. For some reason Lucius's actions made me feel even more abused. Now all of that had been for nothing. Not that I would ever want such a sick man's baby.

The tip of his wand then pressed against my throbbing lip. "Poor little thing," he said, and with a tap, he healed the deep cuts made by his teeth.

I remembered how Severus had healed the accidental cut on my finger. His kindness was forever sewn into the flesh of that finger. Now my mouth would forever carry some of Lucius's wickedness. At that thought, I finally let out a pitiful scream of heartbreak.

"Shh," Lucius said.

His fingers slipped between my legs again. I'd thought it had been over, but clearly not. His head sank down a moment later, and I was horrified as he began to suck on me.

This was too sickening to endure. On instinct I writhed away, and kicked his shoulder with my heel. It wasn't nearly as hard as he deserved, but from the way his eyes suddenly grew wild, I knew that for my slightest resistance there would be hell to pay.

With a freezing hiss, "Mudblood cunt," he dragged me down, threw me on the floor, and kicked me.

I groaned, a deep sound forced out of me as the breath left my lungs. It went on for only a few seconds–as long as Lucius could sustain his most brutal strength. Pain blossomed across my ribs, and I found it hard to breathe as I shook against the floor.

I curled into a ball, praying there would be no more.

There was a terrible minute of nothingness.

Then at last he moved away, and began to put his clothes back on. I kept my eyes shut tight, hearing the sounds of the fabric, the buttons.

"Get dressed," he said, once he was done. "I'll be just outside the door."

I slowly limped back down the stairs, following after him. Every breath hurt. My entire left side was badly bruised, and I thought a rib or two might have been broken. I understood now why the house was so silent. I didn't know where Draco and Astoria were, but after what I'd just experienced, I was sure that Pansy was anywhere but here.

The Malfoy family doctor was waiting in a room off the main entryway. Lucius opened the door and ushered me through, touching the small of my back. I felt the stinging cuts he'd left there with his fingernails, but distantly. Everything was distant.

The mediwizard was a drained looking old man. I was positive he was being paid enough that he would have signed a letter to the ministry at Lucius's demand alone, without needing to conduct the examination. But I also knew that Lucius would want him to conduct it anyway, for the purpose of further humiliating me.

I went into it numb-faced. At this point, there was very little humiliation to show. The mediwizard gestured for me to take off my trousers, to sit up on the table, and to lie back. He subtly tapped his wand once on my ribs, under the guise of guiding me down. I felt them heal in an instant. The pain was still there, but now I wouldn't start bleeding internally on my broomstick.

Any gratitude I might have felt for this random act of kindness was forgotten as the old wizard conducted the shameful examination. Lucius stood there watching. I clenched my jaw, closing my eyes. Tears were streaming from the corners, but I no longer cared. I was weak. Fine.

Then it was finished. The mediwizard nodded his head, and started writing his report.

"Come along," Lucius said, as I pulled up my trousers.

He led me to the cloakroom and watched as I fastened my cloak, and held onto my broom. I could feel my wand vibrating with rage in my pocket.

Lucius stood in the doorway, blocking me. "Give us a kiss," he said. I went numb as he lowered his mouth and invaded my mouth with his tongue for the last time.

He let me past, and opened the front doors to the bitter night wind. "I hope I might see you again, little duck," he said.

I should have spit at him. Never.

But I couldn't even summon a bit of fire to my eyes. I was filled with shame, knowing that I was an open wound–that he was able to see all of the damage he had done; how thoroughly he had broken me.

I walked out into the freezing night air without giving him another glance. The door slowly shut behind me.

NOTE

I hope this chapter wasn't too upsetting. Parts of it poured out rather uncontrollably. I considered cutting certain pieces, but thought it would take away from Wilma's experience. I will be posting another chapter promptly, as I don't want to abandon her at such a dark moment. As always, my warmest thoughts to you all.