A/N: Trigger warning (scroll to the end to see)

Lucius was sitting behind his desk in his office looking over some paperwork. Voldemort's rise had not been good for business. There were foreclosures everywhere, trading hours reduced, the wizarding community in general found it safer to remain indoors and many had even left Wizarding Britain altogether. Ironically, that's just what Lucius was planning to do. He had already been forced to remain here at the Manor as punishment for letting Potter escape… he knew, things would only get worse. His life was expendable… to Voldemort, everyone's was.

Lucius clenched his jaw and willed himself to return his concentration to the contract before him when Bellatrix swanned in, unannounced, wearing an eerie smile.

For someone who had just recently been tortured by her precious Dark Lord, she was in a terribly good mood.

"Haven't I asked you to knock before entering," he groused.

She ignored him, her good mood unfazed as she came around to where he was seated and sat on his desk. A little too close for comfort.

Coolly he stated, "This desk is worth more than your husband's pitiful house Bella so I suggest you say what it is you want to say. I can't stand to see you so happy."

Her eyes twinkled with delight. "Someone's been a naughty little Death Eater."

Lucius glanced at her with disinterest. "I haven't the faintest notion of what you're talking about," he clipped before returning to his paperwork or pretending to. Anything to remove her presence from him.

"My dear nephew, of course," she drawled. "Dray-co... I know his dirty little secret."

Lucius felt his pulse quicken. She knows. His mind was racing trying to figure out where they'd gone wrong, what small piece of evidence they had forgotten. Had Bellatrix been in the manor when Dolohov and Rowle arrived — had the bodies been discovered — so soon — not even twenty-fours had passed and yet—"

"Cutting into the Mudblood. Cutting into himself…"

A wave of relief poured over him. She did not know about Dolohov and Rowle.

"Nonsensical ramblings from a witch who has spent far too much time near Dementors."

Bellatrix cackled. "Don't deny it. I know what I saw in that head."

Lucius knew his son was a skilled Occlumens and could easily evade Bellatrix's attack on his mind. Even a very skilled Legilimens like himself would have a difficult time penetrating the steel walls he put up. Bellatrix would only be able to get through if his defenses were lowered.

Scoffing he tried. "I doubt Draco let you read his mind."

"Not him, Lucius… the Mudblood's."

His heart skipped a beat again. Bile was beginning to rise in his throat. He and Narcissa had always been so concerned about who might read their minds or Draco's. He had never once given any thought to someone reading the Granger girl. If he were being honest, Lucius had never spoken to Draco about the witch, nor had he ever asked his son about the bracelet from Laurel & Moons.

"What exactly is it that you think you know, Bella?"

She tilted her head and her smile slipped turning to disgust. "You should see the depraved things your son did to that... animal. All the," her face pinched as if one were sucking on a lemon, "love he showered her with."

Lucius couldn't help it. His cheeks had gone pink, he could feel the heat on his face. "W-what?" Because he truly didn't know. Knew there were things he did not know but not exactly what they were. Didn't care to find out either. Out of sight, out of mind.

The first time he suspected it, was at the bookstore when he caught Draco watching the girl. The hypnotic fascination of Hermione Granger… the Mudblood that disproved everything Lucius was taught about their kind; a complication.

Over the years, Lucius began to realize his son was enamored by her, obsessed even. It was what he had feared upon finding Draco that day hiding behind the stack of books.

"Don't deny it," said Bellatrix bringing him back to the present. "I looked into the girl's mind to see if she knew more about the sword but all her head was filled with was my nephew. I could vomit just thinking of all the disgusting ways he's been tainted."

Lucius said nothing. Could only stare at Bella, speechless. His only son… dirtying the line with a Mudblood. It was one thing for him to harbor the feelings but a different thing altogether to have acted on them.

Still, there was a small part of him that was impressed. The girl hated him. He had been vile to her, to everyone around her. He'd seen it first hand, and yet… Draco was still a Malfoy. Mudblood or no, he was persistent and determined.

Bellatrix bent low, brought her lips to his ear, and whispered so slowly that each word was excruciating to his ears, "Your pureblood prince… spread that Mudblood's legs open… and gorged on her like she was a fucking buffet."

Lucius recoiled, his jaw clenched in anger. Bellatrix relished how mortifying, how shameful it was; how embarrassed, how ostracized they would be if anyone were to find out.

"Don't worry Lucy," she said quietly, almost assuring. "Draco's heart is turning black. I see tendrils of death dancing around his pretty blond head." She raised her brow. "Power too."

Lucius swallowed involuntarily. He wasn't sure what game she was playing but he had to play along. "The Dark Lord has taught him well."

"You can't teach talent. He has a gift, Lucius. And I'm not going to let a little Mudblood get in the way of his destiny."

"Destiny?"

"Do you know of any other seventeen-year-old who can perform the imperius curse as effortlessly as Draco does — or shield his thoughts behind a fortress of thick steel — no, there isn't. With the right guidance, he could be the Dark Lord's successor. But if I confessed what I've seen to the Dark Lord, there's no telling what he might do to poor Draco… to Narcissa… to you. After all… it's not just any Mudblood, is it?"

His voice was brittle when he spoke. "She must have bewitched him."

"Yes," she crooned, "such a handsome boy he is. Just — like — his — father. How very lucky of my sweet, sweet sister to have such a beautiful family."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "We are very fortunate to have family. Especially at times as trying as these."

"That's why I'm not going to tell," she said placing her hand on his knee. "Because we're family."

"What is it you want from us?" he hissed, dropping his cool demeanor. "Gold?"

Bellatrix leered lasciviously at him. "I want what I've always wanted," she purred moving her hand up his thigh. Before she could reach his crotch he snatched her wrist effectively stopping her.

"For Merlin's sake, Bella! I am married to your sister."

"How could I forget," she hissed wrenching her wrist free, "my lovely, wonderful, weak, pathetic sister. Even the Dark Lord can't help but be beguiled. You should see the way she touches him when you aren't looking."

He shot up out of his seat with the force of indignation he felt. "Narcissa is faithful. She would never—"

"Cissa," she mocked, "always did get everything. Including the Dark Lord. Well, what did I get? I got sent to Azkaban."

Looking at the witch, Lucius could see how ill the woman really was… how utterly insane she'd become to even think that the Dark Lord could care for anyone.

"You got caught," he reminded gently.

"I got the job done!" she screamed, jolting up, shoving him back, her features momentarily wild with rage before settling back into a demure, wicked grin. "And I promise, I can get the job done."

Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, her eyes looking down to his lips. "The question is Lucius, can you?" She licked her lips then, "If your son's performance is anything to go by, I'm sure yours will be a standing ovation."

He gulped unable to mask just how very much she unnerved him, and now she had the perfect weapon in her arsenal. Yet, the very idea of Bella's lips anywhere near his made him sick to his stomach. Her skin had colored, her hips had filled out since she'd been dining at his table and her long dark hair was returning to its original luster; she was unusually attractive — as he had once mentioned to Severus in their youth — but she was not Narcissa.

"If I refuse?"

Her eyes clouded in simmering rage. "I've been told to report on Draco's progress. I can tell the Dark Lord how wonderfully Draco is coming along… or I can tell him that Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy is panting after Potter's dirty little Mudblood."

Lucius trembled at the venom dripping from her words. The Dark Lord would kill Draco for it. Of that, he was certain.. and Bellatrix knew this too.

"If I do this, you'll keep Draco's indiscretions to yourself."

She leaned in till her lips were a kiss away from his.

"That depends," she breathed, "on much I enjoy it."

When he felt her fingers tug on the collar of his robes, he retreated within, his gaze fixed upon the wall beyond her face. He had lost his freedom, then his home, then his wand, and now he was about to lose autonomy over his own body.

Without looking at her, he said mechanically, "Get back on the desk."

After the first time, Bellatrix made it a point to find him whenever Narcissa was wholly occupied. One evening he decided to purposefully fall short of her expectations, hoping that she'd stop paying him visits but the next day she took it out on Narcissa.

Lucius found his wife sitting in what once was their beautiful rose garden. It seemed a mortuary now; the plants had withered, the flowers all turned to ash. Her eyes were vacant. She seemed sad and he felt wholly guilty. Sickeningly, he reminded himself to keep Bellatrix pleased in case the mad woman next decided to take it out on Narcissa herself, rather than her sister's roses.

Gently he touched her shoulder. "Cissa… my love."

When she didn't reply he stepped into her and kissed the nape of her neck.

"Cissa?"

Her hand fell over his holding it tightly and he could feel her clavicle bone protruding, stretched tight against her pale skin. Ever since Voldemort moved into the manor, Narcissa had… she was disappearing. Eating less, bathing less… giving up.

"What's to become of Draco?" she asked, breaking the long stretch of silence.

"He is changed," admitted Lucius. "I see it too."

"I knew this would happen… It's why I steered him toward the Parkinson girl. There was friendship and love, but not enough of it to make one reckless."

"You blame the girl," he stated bluntly.

"No," she said slowly, "how can I —" suddenly she turned around, her eyes boring into his. "It's no secret that on the day of our wedding, I was in love with two men."

Lucius felt the world around him closing in. "What must you bring that up — are you trying to wound me?"

"No, no, I want to ask," she gave a little sigh, "why did you marry me knowing what you knew? Your own father forbade it."

"Because I loved you, and I would not let my pride or anyone else stand in the way of what I knew to be true."

A slow trail of tears ran down her face.

"So much love," she whispered turning back around to stare at the blanket of shriveled dead rose petals. "Why have we taught him so much hate?"

Lucius looked at the back of her head and did not know what to say. Such a simple question and the answer remained so elusive. "I have failed this family," he whispered. "I know that. I know and I'm powerless to correct it. I…" he gave a grave sigh, bowing his forehead on her shoulder. "Narcissa, I do not know how to undo what I've done and I can no longer control Draco. All we can do is pretend it didn't happen and keep a close eye on him."

"What's to become of him, Lucius?" she asked him once again. "What's to become of Draco?"

He made to kiss her, to comfort her but he had just been with Bellatrix, who the mere thought of now set his stomach to roil, so he didn't. Then she said something that made him forget his disgust of Bellatrix altogether.

"Rodolphus is missing."

Lucius came around to face her.

"Since when?" he demanded.

"A day or so. Bellatrix is on the warpath. They think one of the Order has taken him…" her lips parted, the slightest quiver of her bottom lip as she said, "but I know where he is…"

"Well," he pressed. "Where is he?"

She raised her tired eyes to his, her mouth set in a grim line.

"He's here somewhere," she rasped, looking around the gardens. "Buried beneath."

Lucius paled. "Rodolphus is dead?"

When Narcissa didn't answer, he asked. "Was it…?" Lucius could not say his son's name for fear that saying it would make it true. His anger began to rise — Draco was putting them all in an extremely precarious state — and his terror had returned. They were already held hostage in their own house, it wouldn't take long for someone to figure out a connection between the disappearances... and if the bodies were found… Voldemort would show no mercy.

"Where is Draco?" He ground out. "Is he in his room?"

She shook her head. "No. He has been let out. The Dark Lord has entrusted him with the task of finding Rodolphus."

Lucius wasn't entirely sure whether to cry, laugh, or begin planning their disappearance.

"We're going to lose him, Lucius. He won't listen to reason."

"As long as no one finds out, he'll be safe."

"Safe?" she spat. "That monster has dug his claws into Draco. The more time that goes by, I feel my son slipping away. What he did… what we saw him do. I can't unsee it, Lucius. I don't recognize him anymore. When I look into his eyes, he seems so lost…" Tears began to roll down her face again. "We've failed him."

With confidence that he didn't have, Lucius assured, "I will not let anything happen to him. I will keep him safe and in time we'll get Draco the help he needs, he will return to his former self. I will not rest till our lives, our dignity, our home is restored to what it once was—"

"And the girl?" whispered Narcissa.

Lucius blinked not quite understanding what it was she was saying.

"Once this is all over… if he still wants to be with the Mud—" she pursed her lips, eyes cast down.

He let out a great exhale, relinquishing his hatred, his distrust, his animosity. "Then we will not stop him. I cannot punish him as my father tried to punish me, not after all I've put him through. Though the question is…" Narcissa raised her eyes, curious and waiting. "How do I undo what the Dark Lord has done to Draco?"

His wife's eyes flashed. A moment of revelation. "There is a book… rare and mystical maladies. I remember seeing it in the library… I didn't read it but," she took his hand in hers. "We must try, Lucius. We must do something now before it's too late — whatever it takes."

"And we will," he vowed. "Upon my life."

Trigger: Non-consensual in this chapter (not described, but hinted at).