Bohemian Rhapsody

moment twenty-seven: ways and means (December 24, 1978).

"Are you loyal, Lucius?" Voldemort asked quietly, an innocuous cup of tea at his lips, the saucer in his hand. He could feel the fear instantly radiate from the man sitting opposite him, and delighted in it. This is his house, his realm, and I still turn him into a quivering wreck with a carefully worded phrase. Pretty good to be me, really.

Lucius swallowed, his own cup of tea lying now forgotten at his feet. "Of course I am, my Lord."

"Didn't stop you from being fucked by that Potter boy, now did it? You loved spreading your legs for him."

Lucius cleared his throat, and buried the temptation to lash out at the mention of James. "My Lord-"

"What is it with you and black-haired boys, anyway? That Snape you brought into the fold, he follows you round like a puppy. Although I do get the feeling you're the man this time round."

Lucius bit his lip, and sat there, frozen by his inability to protest.

The Dark Lord trailed one finger around the edge of the teacup, marvelling at the patina of age the china exuded. "I offered you a great honour, Lucius. To help bring my child into this world, and you seemingly frustrate me at every turn. First by developing an affection for one of my enemy's greatest supporters - and I admit, I indulged it, because I love you, Lucius, but in the end it had to end. As must this obstinacy of yours if you wish to truly serve me."

Lucius breathed silently into the still room. "What does my Lord wish me to do?"

"Find yourself a wife, Lucius," Voldemort informed him. "I don't particularly care who, as long as her blood's pure and her family's powerful. She could be the most air-brained bitch in the wizard world and I would not care. All I want is a strong child, seeping in old magic, born of old blood. The woman is immaterial beyond the bringing to term of that child. You can divorce her then, or keep her round for appearance's sake: it doesn't matter. If the idea of having sex with a woman so disgusts you, well - you only have to do it once."

He set the teacup at his feet, and rose. "It's always good to talk with you, Lucius," he said, fondly. "Oh, and lovely tea."

---

moment twenty-eight: a gilded cage (February 4, 1979).

It was waiting for her when she got home from work. Lying innocuously in her mailbox, linen paper and gilt edging, the Malfoy family crest stamped in wax on the back. Narcissa picked it up, closed her mailbox, and made her way upstairs to her apartment, absently dumping her keys and bag on the sideboard once she entered. She gratefully shook off her heels, dumping them on the rug and sat on the couch, taking a few moments to pick the hairpins out of her hair, and using her hands to tease the long mass free. Settling back, she looked at the envelope on the cushion next to her, and wondered if she dare open it.

She'd managed to make herself a good life since graduating from University. Her parents had set herself up here, just off from Diagon Alley, and she worked at Gringotts' Bank, forecasting stock futures in their Financial Investments department. She was one of the more accurate Seers they had, so she got paid a very nice amount of money - not that she particularly needed it. But it gave her something to do, and kept her from the luxurious idolatry of the rich.

Seized with a sudden impulse, she grabbed it in shaking hands, and tore away the envelope to reveal an embossed invitation.

Lucius Malfoy requests the company of Narcissa Morgan to dine with him at his London townhouse, on the evening of February 21. There was an address at the bottom, and a date by which she had to R.S.V.P. Narcissa was glad to see the address was for somewhere old and moneyed, but not too fashionable. It fitted in nicely with all her concepts of what had to go into Lucius Malfoy.

But why now, and why her? They barely communicated during school - what could he remember of her, and what would he be expecting her to be? Well, she thought, tapping the invitation against her knee. I'll find out soon enough.