Sweet Bondage

Chapter 10: All About the Malfoys

Narcissa Malfoy carefully poured tea into her cup while giving surreptitious glances at her husband. She couldn't help but notice Lucius' agitation; they had been in one of her greenhouses yesterday, talking about the party they had attended the night before and the interesting scene their hosts had played out before them when an owl had flown in and dropped a letter in Lucius' lap. As soon as he had read the message, he had started getting restless and jumpy. She had asked him what the note had said but he merely waved off her question with a vague response. Now, as they were taking their breakfast in the gardens, she could plainly see the night's rest hadn't helped ease whatever it was that was troubling him. What really had her worrying more was when he had not gone to the office after receiving the missive yesterday. Lucius never missed a day of work if he could help it and for him to do so now had her mind working overtime as to the reason why.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he stared off into space, the fingers of his right hand drumming anxiously on the arm of his chair, his left leg tapping steadily on the cobbled floor of the gardens. She could honestly say she wouldn't be too surprised if he would start raking his manicured fingers through his hair next, his behavior in the past two days was that out of the ordinary. She was just about to ask him again what was bothering him when he suddenly shot to his feet. She was so startled by his sudden movement that she spilled coffee on her ivory robes, the dark liquid staining the expensive material and spreading rapidly. Muttering a silent oath, she picked up her wand and quickly did a cleansing spell before the damage became irreparable. Satisfied that she was once again immaculately clean, she looked up at her husband to give him a piece of her mind to see him finish reading another letter and a breathtaking smile light his face, making him look light years younger than his forty six years. She didn't have enough time to ask him what caused him to smile before she was yanked out of her seat and twirled around the spacious gardens in an impromptu waltz. She greatly wondered what his irrational behavior meant, but the happiness radiating out of her husbands entire being made her decide to leave off her questioning; she rarely ever heard Lucius laugh and she wasn't about to cut short his joy. They whirled around and around, laughing together like teenagers at their first ball.

"Well, this is a sight I never expected to see."

The amused drawl halted the couple's dance in mid step and Narcissa clung to her husband, breathing heavily, but smiling nevertheless. She felt perfectly content in Lucius' arms as she watched her son walk up to them purposely. She didn't notice the drastic change in her husband, the way his body had gone rigid and the way he hastily shoved the piece of paper he had been holding inside his trouser pockets.

"Draco! This is a wonderful surprise. Why didn't you send word that you were coming?"

Draco stopped in front of his mother and gave her a peck on the cheek before straightening and looking his father straight in the eye. "I had something to discuss with Father that just couldn't be put off another minute, Mother."

"Business, I suppose," Narcissa stated matter-of-factly as she walked back to their breakfast table. "Well," she said as she sat down, "do come out and talk to me when you finish your business with your father. Tell me about how you're doing in France; I haven't been to visit in ages."

Draco nodded. "All right, Mother. I'll see you in the study in five minutes?" He said to his father who had on his patented Malfoy stoic look.

"Five minutes," Lucius murmured in reply and watched his son walk back inside the Manor, leaving him and Narcissa alone again. He didn't know what it was Draco wanted to talk about. He was quite certain he didn't know anything about Ginny or the twins; the repelling spell he had had placed on him and the offices of Malfoy Holdings as well as the Chateau Malfoy was invincible, he had made several modifications to the spell he had created more than a decade ago and was immensely proud of its strength and power. No, whatever it was he wanted to talk about, it wasn't about his heretofore-unofficial family.

He went to his wife and gave her a short but deep kiss. "I'll be back shortly," he whispered against her lips, his hands cupping her upturned face lovingly before he turned to follow his son to have their talk.

Narcissa looked at Lucius' departing back, her face flushed. Even after all this years, she still could not believe that she had made that man love her. After their rocky start, it seemed their marriage was doomed to fail.

Narcissa tried to keep the memories at bay but against her wishes, her mind wandered back to the turbulent first ten years of her life as a Malfoy.

When she had married Lucius, she knew she was not what he wanted, nor needed, and it had broken her heart. She knew of his engagement to Molly Prewett of course, and was one of the many who thought the older witch was a fool for choosing to elope with a pauper rather than marry the richest and most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world. She had been eight then and her favorite thing to do was to eavesdrop on the conversations of her sister's friends. If they had known she had been listening in on them, they would have been properly horrified seeing as their topics for discussion were, more often than not, unfit for an eight-year-olds' tender ears. Through them, she heard all about Lucius; his wealth, his good looks, his prowess in the bedroom. She heard about his temper, his ruthlessness and his regard for the purity of one's blood. As a little girl, she had been terrified of him. She had never met him; children were not allowed to mingle with adults in parties where the elite members of society flit around like colorful butterflies, and she had been vastly relieved by it.

As the years passed, and she continued to hear about him, her fear grew to fascination. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and didn't quibble about his means of getting it. At twelve, she read all about him, admiring his shrewd business sense and feeling inordinately proud for him when he became the youngest ever to be given the Businessman of the Year award by the Association of Wizard Entrepreneurs. He was twenty three.

It was inevitable that their paths would cross and at sixteen, it did. During the reception of her middle sister Bellatrix's wedding to Rodolphus Lestrange, she finally got the chance to see him in person. He was everything she had pictured him to be and her young heart could not help but fall in love with him. To her, he was like an angel, with his white blond hair and pale skin, his slate gray eyes burning with so much passion. He was so beautiful that she made a fool of herself by going mute when Bellatrix dragged her in front of him and ordered her to keep him company. He had looked at her from his towering height, his eyebrow raised, his lips quirked in amusement at her stunned expression, and she had ran. She cursed Bellatrix for embarrassing her that way all the way to her bedroom, vowing she was never coming out again as long as she lived. If it were not for Andromeda, her kind and sympathetic oldest sister, she probably would have stayed in her room until she was eighty. Dear Andromeda, she knew right away what had upset her and had hastened to reassure her that what she was feeling was normal for any girl her age. She shouldn't have felt such kinship with her, after all, their father was having talks with Lucius' father to marry them to each other, but she clung to Andromeda like Devil's Snare, pouring her bile out on her attentive ears.

Two days before Andy's engagement could be announced, she ran away with a Muggle-born wizard by the name of Tonks. She had felt such anger towards her sister; how could she humiliate Lucius in that way? How could she justify choosing a Mudblood over that of a Pureblood? She loved her sister, but she was never going to forgive her for doing that to Lucius.

When her father had come to her after they realized what Andy had done, she had been shocked at her father's solution to the problem: the announcement of the engagement would push through, but instead of Andromeda, Narcissa would be announced as Lucius' intended. Her father didn't even ask her if she wanted to marry Lucius; it seemed to her that he wasn't taking any chances that another of his daughter would defy him and had made the decision for her.

She had privately danced a happy jig; she couldn't believe she was going to marry the man of her dreams! Of course there was her seventh year in Hogwarts to finish first but after that, specifically a week after graduation, they were to marry in the private chapel at Malfoy Manor where all Malfoys had been married in for generations. The last term of Hogwarts couldn't seem to fly fast enough to suit her and the week's wait after graduation was pure hell. She could only breathe again after the last rites had been performed and they were finally man and wife. He was all hers now and she was going to show him that he would not regret marrying her. She had a lot of plans for how their life together was going to be and she couldn't wait to begin living out those plans. It didn't take her long to find out that her dreams of their life together were only that, dreams. Like sandcastles, once the tide set in, the first wave tumbled the whole foundation of the castle. Much like what Lucius had done: the first strike of his cruel tongue shattered her illusion about her marriage. She should have known, knowing him the way she did, she really should have known.

Lucius Malfoy, heir to the vast Malfoy wealth and prestige, was still in love with Molly Prewett. After almost ten years, his head was still full of the petite redhead. He was obsessed with her and Narcissa could not hope to compete with a woman who had not wanted to enter the game in the first place. She was vain enough to point out that her looks were far superior compared to that of the redhead, and yet she couldn't seem to get her husband to look at her with even the slightest bit of intensity with which he looked at the other witch. She watched as he brooded over the woman he lost, and her heart broke every time he made love to her, his eyes closed as he pumped his life seed into her welcoming body, and every time, every single time, when he climaxed, he would call out Molly's name. She could never refuse him when he wanted to relieve his lust, even knowing the pain he would be inflicting on her, and she refused to call their joining as anything but making love. She was willing to endure that kind of humiliation and pain, for not having him in her arms, even for just the few minutes it took him to finish his business with her, was even more unbearable. She loved him, she would love him for as long as she lived.

When she got pregnant, she wasn't too surprised when he treated her pregnancy as just another part of their marriage and not something to be celebrated. He stopped coming to her bed and she cried silent tears as she would sometimes find stray hairs on his robes that were neither his nor hers, and smell fragrant perfumes that were not his cologne lingering on his skin. She never called his attention regarding her discoveries; she was only his wife after all, just another acquisition. She never voiced the thought, but she envied her sister's marriages; Andy was blissfully happy with her husband Ted, and no matter how twisted their relationship was, Bella and Rodolphus were devoted to each other. She had learned quickly that she had only herself to depend on; she could never dishonor her marriage vows by revealing that her life was not the fairy tale others believed it to be.

When she gave birth to Draco, she had wanted so much to care for her son herself, but Lucius had decreed that that was not done in the Malfoy family and she had sadly handed her son over to the servants and watched as he grew distant from her. If this was another of Lucius' ways of hurting her, he was succeeding brilliantly. If he was making her pay for marrying him, then she had more than doubled her payment of her nonexistent debt.

Lucius had stopped coming to her altogether after the birth of their son. He had said that he had his heir, there was no need for them to spend any more time together more than they had to. She had stayed silent as he talked, biting down on her tongue to keep from blurting out that he certainly had no trouble bedding any random witch that came his way. It would not be productive and would only serve to make him look at her with even more indifference.

When Draco had been almost a year old, Lucius was implicated with the Death Eater movements. She stayed by his side, defending him from any and all accusations hurled his way. She knew deep down he was involved; his anger at the Muggle-loving Weasley who 'stole' his woman fueled his desire to eliminate all Mudblood and Mudblood lovers for which Arthur Weasley was well known for being. But she was his wife; it was her duty to stand by him. When he was cleared of all charges, he had regarded her loyalty as his by right and then proceeded to go on as he used to before. He was discreet though, she had to give him that; his affairs were all kept quiet. But it was hard for her not to know about his infidelities; how could she fail to know when he would occasionally take his mistresses in the Manor and install them in his bedroom until he tired of them. The first time she heard them, she had thought somebody, a servant maybe, had been injured in his room and immediately rushed to find out what happened. What she saw was enough to scar a person for life, it was a sight nobody should be made to witness, a wife watching another woman servicing her husband in the most bestial of ways, and the husband, not bothering to stop the act and seemed to be taunting the wife with something that she could never have.

When they collapsed on the bed together, Narcissa had finally regained the use of her legs and lit out of there, past the connecting door, out of her bedroom and into her son's chambers, her slim body shaking with heartrending sobs as she crawled beside Draco, hugging him to her body tightly, willing the pain to go away.

The following day, Lucius had acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary and was eating his breakfast with his lover sitting in the place where his wife should have been. She had ordered her meals sent to Draco's room for the remainder of that day, not wanting to see her husband with that woman acting as though she was the lady of the house.

The second time she heard the same noise come from her husband's rooms, she had instructed her personal house elf, Plinky, to move her things to the south wing. She could learn to live with her husband's infidelity, but she drew the line at hearing him go at it all night like a raging bull.

When Lucius had learnt of her move, he had looked at her briefly but didn't say anything, which was fine with her. She was tired of crying all the time and if it weren't for her son, she would have already left him and filed for an annulment of their marriage. She had all the grounds she would need: he hadn't touched her in more than three years, he was not without a mistress at any given time, and he was abusive emotionally. But there was her son to think about, so she stayed. She loved Lucius, yes, but there was only so much a heart could endure before self-preservation sets in and it decides to just, simply, stop. She didn't think it was possible to fall out of love; she guessed it was just another assumption she had foolishly made.

Everything came to a jarring end when she had to defend herself against one of his friends. All of her misery and anger and hate came to the fore and for the first time, she killed. That was the final straw and amidst Lucius' loud outrage at having his wife assaulted in his own home several hours after the fact (he was off to another part of the Manor fucking Merlin knows who that time), she left the Manor with her nine year old son with every intention of never setting foot in it again. Because of Lucius' neglect, his friend had thought her fair game. She couldn't have that. She was a Black before she became a Malfoy, and Blacks valued their honor above everything else. If even her husband couldn't keep her safe in her home, then she was going to find safety in another place.

She had ended up at Andy's doorstep and her sister had gladly welcomed her and her son. She didn't even have to explain why she had left Lucius, Andy took her word for it when she said her marriage was a mistake and she was correcting that mistake now.

Against their father's wishes, she filed for an annulment of their marriage. Lucius had raised hell when he was served with the petition. He made all kinds of threats, believing that his docile wife would fold under the pressure. He had forgotten that he had married a Black and Blacks were also notoriously known for their stubbornness. He had changed tactics halfway and started wooing her back, sending her flowers and chocolates and gifts of jewelries and clothes. At any other time, Narcissa would have easily given in. But she was wise to him now. It took her ten years to finally realize she could never make him happy and now she was all right with that. She was ready to move on.

Narcissa Black was a beautiful girl at seventeen; Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was a stunning woman at twenty-six. As soon as word was out that the fairy tale Black-Malfoy marriage was ending with no happily ever after in sight, wizards crawled from all over the woodwork, wanting to be the one to take the place of Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa wasn't foolish enough to believe that they were enamored with her simply because of her beauty; the thought of besting the wealthiest and most influential wizard in Britain probably had a lot to do with their determination to succeed where they thought Lucius had obviously failed. She welcomed their admiration, though; after a decade of being made to feel like shit dumped on one's shoe, these men's admiration was like manna from heaven. Then she met Jonathan Foster.

A year had already passed since her separation from Lucius and for the first time, Narcissa truly believed she could learn to love again. Jonathan was Lucius' complete antithesis: he had blue-black hair, violet eyes and tanned skin. He was different from all the others in that he didn't force her to get on with the business of choosing a replacement for Lucius. He was just there, ready, watching, willing to lend his assistance whenever a particular suitor became too physical. She could talk to him for hours about anything and he would listen until her voice grew hoarse. What pleased her even more was that Draco also seemed to like him. Her son had been close-mouthed about his opinion on her separation from his father, not remarking about what his father did to cause the split nor did he resent his mother now for showing partiality to one man. The annulment proceedings were almost at an end and his mother would be a free woman once again.

One night, after her marriage to Lucius was finally declared null and void and she was in her room having a good cry, she finally confided to Jonathan the life she lived as Lucius Malfoy's wife for ten years and after the telling, he held her in his arms until her tears were spent. And then he kissed her.

Kissing him was so different to how she felt whenever Lucius touched his lips to hers; with Lucius, she felt her heart pound so hard and so fast she had feared she was having a heart attack. With Jonathan, she was calm, able to step out of herself and view the scene like a rational person conducting research. She hated feeling like that, especially towards this man who had been nothing but supportive of her, and she tried to push herself to enjoy what he was doing to her body. He was touching her in places only Lucius had ever touched before and she saw again in her minds eye how her ex-husband's lover had reacted to his touch and tried to emulate her now as Jonathan strove to give her pleasure.

When he had taken her hand and led her to her bed, she didn't say anything even though her mind was screaming at her that she was making another monumental mistake. When he pushed her down on the bed and slowly covered her body with his own, she pushed the guilty feeling her subconscious tried to drum into her and told herself that Jonathan deserved to have this night; even if she could never love him like she first thought she could, even if she could never let this happen again, she owed it to him after his kindness to her. When he slowly and reverently took her clothes off, she smiled tremulously at him and gave him a slight nod when he asked if he could touch her. She closed her eyes as he slowly drew her nipples into his mouth, suckling at them like a babe in need of nourishment. She arched her back, offering herself to him without reservation. She pretended that it was another man worshipping her body, making her feel like a goddess. When she felt his hand move and touch her between the legs, she bit her lip as she parted her thighs, giving him access to that which all wizards sought to gain entry. She kept her eyes closed as Jonathan stroked her soft flesh gently, pinching and pulling and despite herself, she moaned at the unexpected pleasure that rushed through her. This was a safe area for her, Lucius had never done this to her before and so she had no basis for comparison. When she felt Jonathan ease off her, she opened her eyes to ask him what was wrong but he only gave her a smile before, still fully clothed, he worshipped her another way. She gasped in mortified pleasure as her thighs parted wider to give him more room for movement, her hips rising involuntarily at the pleasure his mouth was giving her. So this was what it felt like to have a man's mouth in between your legs, she had thought as she writhed on the bed, her hands grasping onto Jonathan's head to keep him in between her thighs. She could not think while he was doing that, and that was the best place for her. When his tongue drove into her and touched that certain spot, she felt like she had died and gone to heaven as she experienced her first orgasm.

She was still coming down from her high when Jonathan hastily shed his clothing, throwing them all over the room in his hurry to get naked. When he came over her body again, she knew there was no going back. When Jonathan finally came, she sobbed her relief. She wanted to go to the bathroom and wash herself but she didn't want to offend him. So she pretended to have fallen asleep. That was a bad idea.

Barely an hour after he had spent himself, she felt him poking at her buttocks and knew he wanted to do that to her again and she didn't think she was up to it. But there was no stopping Jonathan.

What happened afterwards could still make her cringe. As Jonathan was enjoying her body, she had frozen when she heard the sound of the door opening and the sight of her ex-husband, in her room, while she was otherwise engaged, made all the guilt come back at her all at once. She could only look at him as Jonathan continued thrusting in her body, his pace getting more and more erratic as he was preparing to come. Belatedly she realized that what Lucius was seeing was the scene she had witnessed him engage in their home, but she only felt shame as she saw his eyes turn cold with fury.

When Jonathan started coming, Lucius came forward with a terrifying roar and yanked Narcissa from the bed, effectively detaching her body from that of the convulsing man under her. She felt her legs give way so she clutched at the posts of her bed and watched in shock as Lucius started beating Jonathan to a bloody pulp. She was horrified to see him engage in a Muggle fight, his fist connecting unerringly on Jonathan's face. Lucius was making so much noise that she wasn't surprised when a hand suddenly wrapped her in her dressing gown and watched as the bulky Auror Andy had married haul Lucius off the unconscious and naked wizard. She stayed clutched to the bedpost as Ted levitated the unconscious Jonathan out of her room ostensibly to floo him to St. Mungo's.

Even after everything had quieted down again, she still looked at the place where she had lain with Jonathan, and then later, when Lucius had pummeled him to within and inch of his life. She stood there, and if she could, she would probably not move again. But the heavy breathing behind her was not about to go away, and sooner or later, she would have to face up to what she had done tonight, not only to Jonathan, or to Lucius, but especially to herself. She had prostituted herself, and no amount of kindness shown by any man should have to be paid by engaging in something so sacred as sex. She had grown up believing that a woman had to be married to a man before she could let him take liberties with her body, but her behavior tonight did not reflect on the woman she was. No matter Lucius' sins, she had no right to do that to him.

Lucius had asked her why. Why she did what she did? Why she had let Jonathan continue invading her body as he stood there looking at them? His question could mean anything and so she decided not to answer, she couldn't, even if she had wanted to. She didn't know the answer to why; if he had asked how, she could have honestly answered him: Very easily. Because it had been easy; easy to forget who she was, what she was, in the face of repaying her debt. He knew all about paying a debt, after all, she paid for hers with him for ten years and it wasn't even hers to pay; she was indebted to Jonathan, and friendship and a handshake was not payment enough for all his help. At least, that's what she told herself then.

When Lucius grabbed her arms and apparated them out of her bedroom in Andy's house back to Malfoy Manor, she didn't struggle. He couldn't do anything to her now; he couldn't shame her anymore than she was already feeling shame for herself. He was furious at her apathy and he dragged her into his room and tore her dressing gown from her body, cursing when he saw the many signs of another's hand on her pale body. He had shoved his face to hers then and told her if she wanted to be treated like a whore, then he was the one who was going to oblige her, before he shoved her on the bed and used her like he used his other women.

Narcissa was wrong again when she said she couldn't feel any more shame; what Lucius did to her was enough to make her want to just close her eyes and never open them again. He was a man possessed, and she did that to him. He might no longer be her husband, but he was still the father of her son and no small piece of paper was going to change that. She had finally cried after he left her, crying for all that she had thrown away in one night, for all that she was going to lose because of one thoughtless decision.

Narcissa blinked away the tears that gathered in her eyes as the memory of all the pain she and Lucius had inflicted on each came back to haunt her. It was a miracle, the way they had found each other after the storm. She believed she could never forgive Lucius for the way he had treated her the first ten years of their life together, and she had believed that Lucius could never forgive her for sleeping with another man. Lucius had locked her in his room for a month, and she was only allowed out when he had brought her back to where it all began, the chapel at Malfoy Manor, and married her again without even asking her if she wanted to. Then he locked her in his room again for another month, visiting her only when he wanted to use her. When he had finally allowed her to roam freely around the manor, she had been too used to her confinement that she preferred staying in his room to going out.

It was Draco who finally forced them to confront their feelings.

Draco was eleven then and was preparing to go to Hogwarts. Two weeks before he was to leave, Blaise Zabini, his best friend from the moment he could manage to crawl out of his playpen, had come over to spend the remainder of the summer before leaving for school. His parents, Giorgio and Carlotta Zabini, had to go to Italy on business and they didn't trust their son to behave himself all alone in their house.

As was her norm, Narcissa had spent most of her day in Lucius' room. Maybe it was the monotony of her life, but that day she had been restless and on impulse, she had changed into a light summer dress and had gone exploring the greenhouses and the gardens. As she was going back to the manor, she heard her son and Blaise talking and decided to greet them before going back in. But she stopped abruptly as soon as she heard what they were talking about.

She had never heard Draco say anything about what was going on in the manor and she was loathed to ask him. But as she listened in on him now, talking in a disinterested manner about how his parents were at odds with each other, and how he wouldn't be surprised if they separated again, brought home to her all that they had done to him; and when he scoffed at his best friend when Blaise asked if his parents no longer loved each other, he had asked what love was since he has never seen it, Narcissa realized that the one person they had caused the most damage by her and Lucius' dysfunctional marriage, was their son. She didn't even know when the tears started. She only noticed they were there when strong arms wrapped around her and she was sobbing into her husband's chest. How she could have missed his presence she didn't know, but she was glad he was there. Despite all their problems, he had been the one constant in her life and though she knew he hated her, she wasn't going to turn away his offer of comfort.

Lucius had carried her back to his room; she was still too distraught to walk on her own. What happened afterwards was the last thing she had expected. As Lucius had placed her on what was now their bed, he had lain down beside her and continued to hold her close against him. As her crying fit subsided, his hold on her tightened and he then whispered the words she didn't know she had been wanting to hear from him. It made all that had happened seem so remote then, hearing him say he was sorry. She listened to him talk, her head tucked under his chin, as he apologized for all the hurtful things he had done to her. He didn't make any excuses for his behavior; he took responsibility for the failure of their marriage, saying what happened between them was exactly what he'd wanted back then as he'd been blaming her for trapping him in a marriage he never wanted. As he continued talking, Narcissa could clearly see then that she hadn't exactly helped their marriage by being so meek. She hadn't once challenged the decisions he'd made for the both of them and her submissiveness had made him more and more disrespectful of her not only as his wife, but also as a person. But when he also apologized to her for pushing her into the arms of another man, for pushing her to forget the scruples she had grown up with, she kissed him deeply to stop him from talking further. That wasn't his fault, just as half of the things he had apologized for were not his fault. They were born with choices and for however long they lived, they were free to make them. Just as he had chosen to hurt her, she had chosen for Jonathan to use her body. It was a mistake, yes, and she would live with the memory of that mistake until she joined her maker, but it had been her mistake to make, not Lucius'. Others may not agree with her, like Andy, who blamed him for pushing her to have sex with another man, but they were not privy to her thoughts before the act happened, they didn't know how uneasy she had been before she decided there wasn't anything she could lose more than she had already lost by letting Jonathan have free reign of her body. She had thought she'd lost all her honor, dignity and self-respect when Lucius had openly flaunted his mistresses in her face, preferring their company to hers; it wasn't until she hadn't acted any better than him that she truly felt the loss of those virtues. And the shame she had felt was what made her accept all that Lucius had done to her, hoping that through his retaliation, she could find her redemption. However, achieving redemption didn't exactly work like that.

Now, when their kiss deepened even more, Narcisa was finally free to let the hurt go. When her husband started to make love to her; not the quick, jerky coupling of their first year of marriage or the frenzied, rough and sometimes brutal fucking he had treated her to after seeing her riding Jonathan; but the kind of union that was full of love and caring and passion, she responded in kind. When he entered her body, she finally forgave herself for her betrayal of him. And when she finally heard him say he loved her, she had finally found her redemption.

She'd thought it would be awkward, at first, for Lucius to try and show his love for her, but it had been surprisingly easy. She felt it every time he smiled at her, every time he talked to her; with every little incongruous touch he was able to convey his feelings. He told her he loved her every time they made love and every hour in between.

When Draco left for Hogwarts, Lucius had taken a week off from work and they had spent the entire time in bed, exploring each other's bodies like they hadn't done before. He taught her what pleased him and she found she could do anything with him without any reservation. Without even trying, she became the woman he had only dreamed of having: she was a perfect hostess at parties, she could manage the running of the manor blindfolded, and she was a slut in bed. She knew letting go of his obsession with Molly Prewett would be hard for him and she didn't demand it from him; for as long as she had a small measure of his love for the other woman, she would be perfectly content.

Narcissa took a deep breath as she looked up at her home, her eyes directed at the area where Lucius' study was located. They'd been married twenty years and they had a fine son. He'd been devoted to her much as she'd dreamt he would be the past eight years of their marriage, but until seven months ago, she hadn't been sure if she had his love completely; until seven months ago, she had been pretending that she could make do with half his heart. Seven months ago she had at last seen that she was no longer playing second fiddle to another woman. Now, Lucius was hers and she would do anything to make sure nothing could change that again.

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Draco waited for his father to appear, showing none of his impatience as the seconds slowly ticked by. After his dream the other night and the little scene Celesté had treated him to after he asked her to leave, he hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. It was impossible, of course, he would have already heard about it from the many correspondence he received from his friends, acquaintances and Pansy. Gossip had a way of reaching the furthest corner of the globe, especially a gossip as explosive as that one.

Lucius watched his son from the doorway of his study, finding it difficult to believe that this man before him was already a father himself. He hadn't been a good example of a father during Draco's formative years and it had already been too late when he had decided to stop taking out his anger on his family; Draco was already unfamiliar and doubtful of the finer emotions every man goes through sometime in his life. And his wife, he had lost her to another. It was a dual blow he found difficult to take; he had vowed he wouldn't be like his own father: cold, cruel and indifferent, but that was exactly what he had turned into. Making amends was not familiar with him and the way he had tried to make Narcissa forget that other man's imprint on her body was not something he looked back on with any fondness. He had been brutal; simply put, he had raped his wife repeatedly, several times a day in a period of one month. When his anger abated somewhat, he had married her again against her wishes and made her a virtual prisoner of his room, her body his vessel for releasing his sexual needs.

When he was forced to confront his true feelings for Narcissa, it had been hard to put a name to his possessiveness of her and the depth of his rage at her infidelity. He had avoided it too long but in the privacy of his thoughts, he had to admit that he just might have fallen in love with his wife and it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. He knew she had been in love with him before and he had then set out to make her love him again. As long as they were married, he had a chance to make it up to her and he used every chance he had to do just that. Though he hadn't shown it, he had been overjoyed when Narcissa welcomed him back into her arms and her unbridled love for him coupled with her response to his touch, was instinctual, almost primitive. He was content for the first time in his life.

He hadn't been a successful with Draco. Maybe he had gone about reshaping his beliefs the wrong way, but Draco proved to be as headstrong as he used to be. Against his wishes, his son was slowly turning into himself and it was all his fault. Draco was still young though, just nineteen. As his father, he wasn't going to give up on him yet.

"Draco."

Draco immediately turned to look as his father walked to his desk and sat down on the upholstered leather chair behind the huge, oak desk, his hands laced together as they both regarded each other.

"So. How's Malfoy Holdings faring in France," Lucius asked after motioning for Draco to sit.

"As well as can be expected," Draco answered, shrugging, "considering there wasn't anything wrong with the operations there. I don't understand why you sent me in the first place."

"Ah, Draco," he said, smiling slyly, "it's always best to start out early where business is concerned. The branch offices of Malfoy Holdings in France are neither small nor too large for you to handle; the perfect kick-off point to when you take over after I retire."

Draco could not detect any lie in what his father said so that, at least, made his presence in France legitimate. "I am considering moving the main office from Marseille to either Versailles or Paris; Marseille is a good place, but it's too far from the commercial districts of France. I expect to double, even triple, our income potential if we make the move."

"And the availability of women in such a populated place was not a factor to your decision, of course," Lucius said sarcastically.

"Of course," Draco said smoothly, ignoring his father's sarcasm. He knew Lucius' opinion of his favorite pastime and until he was otherwise prepared, he had no intention of settling down with any one witch soon. "It's always best to have a variety of choices and you know distance is not really a problem. Unless you want me to settle down with Pansy." It was a threat that could effectively make his father back down.

"Good point," Lucius drawled, conceding that anybody was better than that Parkinson chit.

"But I didn't come over to talk about business or my sex life, father," Draco said, wanting to ease his mind about the dream.

"I was wondering when you were going to get around to that. So what, exactly, made you come home all of a sudden."

Draco looked at his father intently. "I had a dream."

"A dream?" Lucius said slowly, his brows arched in amusement.

Draco ignored him. "It wasn't just any dream. I dreamt that Ginny Weasley gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. That wouldn't have bothered me if I hadn't been the father of those twins." He watched his father closely for a reaction. "And the funny thing is, in the dream, I didn't know I had become a father. Ginny had supposedly not wanted to tell me, and had no plans of ever telling me. Tell me, father, what could this dream possibly mean?"

Lucius was having a hard time keeping his cool under his son's assessing gaze. He was stunned at what he'd just said; his connection with his mate was far stronger than he'd anticipated and he couldn't decide whether it was a good or a bad thing.

"I never thought you placed too much stock on divination, Draco," he answered smoothly, showing none of his anxiety.

"I don't, nor do I believe in dream interpretation," Draco answered. "But the dream was almost a fact, it wasn't vague the way most dreams are. It was almost as though I dreamt it as it was happening, which didn't make sense at all. Ginny's anger at me was real enough, that much I know, but the other stuff happening was surreal."

Lucius blinked. "And why would the girl be angry at you, Draco?" He was fishing for answers; Lucius knew only when Ginevra conceived but not the circumstances surrounding the whole affair, and he hoped Draco would be forthright with him as he had been with all the other women he had been intimate with.

Draco sighed. What difference does it make if his father knew what he had done to Ginny Weasley, it was over and done with. "Because I had sex with her and made her believe I felt something for her, then I practically chucked her out of my flat. She wasn't too happy about that." He marveled at the nonchalance with which he related the incident.

Lucius breathed heavily and closed his eyes so Draco wouldn't be able to see the fury in them. There was a vein throbbing at his temple and if he didn't calm down, he just might have an aneurysm. It was worse than he'd thought. He had thought they'd just had a little misunderstanding or the usual tiff about old family rivalry; he would have preferred they quarrel about their different standings in society. But no, Draco had to go and do a Lucius, and if Lucius had a difficult time making it up to his wife, how could he possibly find a way for Draco to make amends to a woman he had no hold over except through that tenuous connection, and he knew for a fact how easy it was to break that connection, thinking of his own mate who had ended up married to another man, and he didn't want what happened to him to happen to his son. The cycle had to be broken sometime and he was determined to break it with Draco.

"Stupid. Boy." Lucius enunciated each word carefully, his tone quite menacing.

Draco was taken aback by the anger his father was displaying. He knew he had somehow taken a liking to Ginny Weasley, but why was he almost trembling now with his rage. "What's wrong, Father?"

"What's wrong is that you will never learn, Draco," Lucius said carefully. "What if that dream of yours was actually true? What then?"

Draco's jaw tightened. "I don't know. Find her and marry her, I suppose. What else is there to do?"

"And then what?" Lucius snarled. "Treat her like I treated your mother for years? Blame her for taking away your choice? Push her to find love somewhere else?" He slammed both palms down on his desk. "Dammit, Draco! Why are you so determined to be like me? Why are you so determined to ruin your life? Do you really want to have the kind of marriage your mother and I had? Do you?"

Hate flashed in Draco's eyes. "I am nothing like you," he said with quiet ferocity.

Lucius slowly stood up and bracing his arms on the desk, he leaned slightly over it and glowered at his son. "Aren't you? From where I'm standing, I see no difference." He straightened and crossed his arms across his chest. "You are exactly like me, Draco, whether you like it or not. The question is, are you man enough to accept what you've become?"

Draco shot to his feet, his hands balled into fists at his side. "Shut up! Shut the hell up! I will not listen to another word out of you." He turned around and started to walk out of the study.

"And where do you think you're going?" Lucius asked, afraid of what he might decide to do. "I want you to answer me, Draco," he demanded when he refused to answer his question.

He didn't bother turning around as he answered his father. "Find Ginny, that's where! One way or another, I will find out what I want to know."

Lucius was on him at once, grabbing his arm and whirling him around, halting his retreat. "You will not, do you hear me! You will leave that poor girl alone or I swear you will have me to contend with!" he tightened his one hold on Draco's right arm. "You have done enough, Draco, enough. There is nothing for you to find out. Ginevra Weasley did not bear you any child, so stay away from her." The lie rolled off his tongue like honey. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll heed my warning; you don't want me as your enemy, believe me." He let go of his arm and smoothed out his features, his voice evening out. "You're so insistent that you're different from me. Why don't you prove it? Go back to France. Do your work. Forget about this dream you had; it was only a dream. Leave the Weasley girl alone while it's still possible. You can never make her happy. Give her a chance to find love with somebody else now, rather than later. You would only be crushing her spirit if you make her feel like an adulterer." Like I did your mother, but he didn't say it out loud.

Draco felt that rage rise in him again as another mentioned Ginny finding somebody else to love. He had no control over his reaction to that suggestion and it was getting out of hand. As time passed, the likelihood of Ginny already in love with another was making him feel more and more desperate. But he didn't know why he felt that way. What had she done to him to make him long for her? He couldn't even bear to be with a redhead, avoiding them like the plague since the color reminded him too much of her. He had gone through a record number of witches, hoping that one will eventually make him forget about her, but it hadn't happened so far. She was still the standard by which he compared all other women, and they were all coming up short. If he hoped to ever feel content again, he would have to settle for something less. Then again maybe his father was right. He'd had his chance and he'd screwed her over. He could never accept that he was like Lucius and there was only one way of proving that he wasn't: he couldn't let Ginny turn into Narcissa.

Draco nodded. "All right, father. If you say there's no reason for me to seek her out, then I believe you." He rearranged his rumpled sleeve. "I have the answer I came here for. Do tell Mother I'm sorry for not stopping and talking to her. Under the circumstances, it would be best if I left now."

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. "Very well, Draco," he said, nodding agreeably.

Draco took out a paperclip from his pockets. "Goodbye, Father." He activated the portkey and was gone in an instant.

Lucius stared for a long time at the spot where Draco had disappeared. Their confrontation had been a close one and Lucius dreaded what might have happened if Draco hadn't listened to him. His right hand sought out the note Molly Weasley had sent him, informing him of the birth of the twins. His fist closed around the note protectively.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but your children don't need you as you are right now," he whispered, voice full of contrition. "When you're ready, you'll have your family. I promise." Then he went out to rejoin his wife, the tension shedding from his body at the thought of his Narcissa.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*

Draco appeared in his bedroom at Chateau Malfoy and without taking off his coat, he flopped across his bed. He had a lot to think about, the most troubling of which was his father's allegation that he was turning into him. That was not true, it couldn't be true. He had hated the man; for a long time he had watched, silent, as his father slowly ruined their family. He saw how he treated his mother and though he wasn't exactly close to her, Narcissa was still the only parent he had known growing up. Lucius was there, but he was more like a malevolent spirit that only brought them grief with his presence. He hadn't been as cruel to him, after all, he was his heir, but he had still treated him with indifference and that, in a sense, was more damaging than if he had struck him physically. At least, if he did that, he would have been acknowledging that he, Draco, was a real person, and not just an entity.

Over the years he had learned to adjust; he had gotten used to his mother crawling beside him in bed as his father was off somewhere else in the manor fucking some whore. He had learned to sleep through her tears as she held onto him. He had learned never to venture to the west wing of the manor where the master bedroom was located. Come to think of it, he had learned a lot from his father, but it doesn't necessarily mean he had turned into him. Did it?

You shouldn't be too hard on Lucius, he's trying his best to make up for what he had done before.

The voice was back again. No rest for the wicked then.

There's more to Lucius than you will ever know, Draco. He hasn't led a charmed life; it doesn't excuse his behavior, but it greatly affected it. He paused and Draco seemed to sense that he was deliberating whether to continue saying what he wanted to reveal about his father or leave him wondering what he meant again. He was a lot like you now, when he was younger. So stubborn, so sure that he could have all that he wanted, he didn't understand that what he wanted wasn't necessarily what he needed. He also refused to accept that he might be like his father, much like you're denying that you're like him, and because of that, he made one mistake after another. He was too filled with anger and resentment that he almost ended up with nothing. It wasn't until he was able to let go of what he wanted that he saw what it was he needed, and what he needed was no longer there for him. You can't know how that frightened him. He's a proud man, and proud men don't beg, but he was ready to do that. When he realized it was the only way for him to get what he needed, he was prepared to beg. Do you have any idea how humiliating and difficult that was for him? A pause, then a sigh. No, I suppose you don't, I don't suppose anybody does until the end. Don't make the same mistake, Draco, let go of the hate. You'll find you will be a better man for it.

He didn't want to believe what Draco Jr. was telling him, it was too fantastic to be real. Lucius Malfoy, begging? When hell freezes over, maybe, not before.

So skeptical. Why is it that young people of your generation think they know everything already? That belief is what gets you into deep shit you know. I have seen the same thing happen over and over again and it's really quite disheartening.

Draco straightened on the bed. "What do you mean my generation?"

Draco Jr. didn't say anything for a long time but Draco waited patiently, suspicion coursing through him.

I guess I haven't exactly been forthcoming with you about what I really am, he said sheepishly. I've been around a long time, Draco, I've seen a lot of things happen. The Malfoys are not a bunch of happy campers, let me tell you that, and so many of them end up miserable and alone because of their pride. The Malfoys are a proud bunch of autocrats, and it hasn't been easy guiding your ancestors through their paths in life. I have failed so many times in my task it's a miracle I'm still around. My last Malfoy took forever to heel that I was almost eviscerated into the great unknown. Why do you think you were able to suppress me for so long? I'm lucky you're not as intractable as that fellow or you might never have had the pleasure of knowing thyself.

Draco snorted. "So, what? You're the Malfoy's mental ghost? Guardian? What?"

I am whatever you want me to be, within reason of course. I multitask most of the time.

Draco thought of something that could trap him and came across the solution to his dilemma with his question. "If you really know all about the Malfoys, then would you mind telling me why my father was so protective of Ginny Weasley?"

Sneaky, sneaky, Draco, did you really think I'd fall for that trick? You forget I've dealt with far more unscrupulous men than you; you're just a baby taking his first steps compared to them. But I'll give you a little something to ponder about : when Arthur Weasley finally becomes the Minister of Magic, you will be given the chance to either gain your happiness or forfeit it. Lucius has already set the wheels in motion. There's nothing you can do. And that's all I'm saying, you won't extract anything from me anymore so don't bother with the questions.

Draco got off the bed and shrugged out of his coat. "Just one more, and it doesn't have anything to do about what you just said."

Fine.

"You said the last Malfoy you had worked with worked you out. Who was it?"

Why, your father, of course. Can't you think of any other mule headed Malfoy?