Chapter One:

Chapter One:

Lucius watched as she dipped the rag into the water and brought it up to the window. He would have complained that the water was too filthy to continue with – but he didn't. He didn't, because he told himself that it was women's business, but if he was really honest with himself, the true reason was that he didn't want to see the girl leave.

Sipping on his tonic, he studied her as she went on with the cleaning. The girl had not acknowledged him yet, but he was certain that she would. He figured that she was in her mood again, trying to distance herself from him like she had been trying to do lately. Whether she liked it or not she wouldn't stay away, she couldn't, nor would he allow her to. He had made that decision the day he had first decided to touch her.

He had accidentally dropped his glass on the floor due to the weakness that came over him periodically. He had assumed that his condition had to do with his time in Azkaban. However, he couldn't visit a Healer; he, being an escaped prisoner, just had to deal with his symptoms when they came about. They had never really caused him any pain; they were more of a nuisance than anything else.

On that particular day, when the weakness had suddenly struck him, his fingers had lacked the strength to hold the glass, which caused it to shatter as it had hit the floor. She had turned to him, and then without an order by him, cleaned it up. Not only had she cleaned up the shattered pieces of glass but she had fetched another tonic without being asked. Lucius couldn't help but have been intrigued by that. A haughty pleasure had wrapped around his tattered pride as he had smelled a weakness within her. He suspected that she had catered to his needs because of what he had done for her after Bellatrix had tortured her.

When the girl had been brought to his home on Christmas Eve, her battered body had appeared nearly broken, but she had complained of no pain – at least until Bellatrix had taken a hold of her. She had been tortured for information that would lead them to Potter, but she had stayed strong, giving them nothing.

He had feared that she would. He had stayed with her on every occasion that she had been tortured, fearing that she would speak out at last.

Lucius knew his position with the Dark Lord was not good, and even though he felt confident that he would be able to reclaim his right to be next to the Dark Lord, he knew it was a position that he did not want. The Dark Lord's sanity had been weakening by the day, and Lucius was troubled by that. For his son's sake, he could no longer wish for the Dark Lord to continue his reign.

Lucius couldn't care less for Potter, but he would rather have him win than his Master. So, Lucius took a great deal of interest in the girl and what she offered to them during her tortures, which was never much.

One day, which was to have been Hermione's last torturing session with Bellatrix, Narcissa had complained about Hermione's screams echoing throughout the house. She had asked Bella to do something about it, and Bella had obliged her by simply gagging the girl.

Lucius had not turned around to watch; he never did, as he had found he no longer cared for tortures since leaving Azkaban. Not too long ago, that sort of thing hadn't bothered him in the least, but his year in Azkaban had made him a different man, more than he liked to admit. The Dementors must have weakened him, softened him to the point that he had actually felt sympathy when hearing her screaming.

The screams had begun immediately as soon as the tape was secure upon her face. Bellatrix had cackled madly as she had shot curse after curse into Hermione's body. The tape had muffled her cries, preventing her from fully screaming out, but enough sound had seeped through that the occupants in the room were able to hear her.

Bellatrix had asked her not one question; her strategy had been purely to break her.

Lucius had been able to hear her body convulsing as the curses had riddled through her body. She had thrashed desperately upon the chair, and he had known she would have rope burns upon her arms from trying to get away.

After the tenth curse had hit her, Lucius had finally had enough and had commanded Bellatrix to stop.

Bellatrix had turned quickly toward him and given him a look of cold contempt while looking at him as if he were someone who was not her equal. Lucius had faced her full on and returned a glare that had matched her own.

They had glared at each other for only a moment before Bellatrix had snorted, "Fine," and had lowered her wand to her side.

"Perhaps next time she will be more inclined to speak," she had said as she had turned and spoken directly to Hermione, "I am looking forward to finding out."

He had assumed that Bellatrix was finished with her, but no, Bellatrix had to deliver one final humiliation before she left.

The girl had slumped forward in the chair due to her lack of energy. Bellatrix had bent down and lifted her chin to make her look directly into her eyes. Placing her wand upon the tape, she had drawn one curved line upon it.

"There, there. You see, the Mudblood can smile after all. Look how she has enjoyed our time together!" she had laughed as she spoke to him, but had never taken her eyes off Hermione.

She had eyed the girl with one more look of pleasure, much like one would when completing a masterpiece, before dropping her hand from her chin and then had finally left the attic.

Hermione's head had dropped down again by the time Lucius was in front of her. Just like Bellatrix, he had bent down and brought her head up with his hand. He had gazed upon her as she looked up at him with wide, weary eyes. The tears that had gathered in her eyes had not been released, but they were visible nonetheless.

Slowly, he had begun to peel the tape from her face. The tears that she had been trying to hold back had fallen out of her eyes, but she had not cried out.

He had leant forward after the tape was away from her face and pressed his chest into hers as he had reached around to undo the rope. Her weakened state had made her slump her head upon his shoulder, and to him, it had felt like a mock embrace. Normally, when he had untied her, he would have stood behind the chair and let her fall to the floor. However, this time he had been in front of her to catch her.

He had grabbed hold of her, and he had taken her to the makeshift bed on the other side of the attic. Laying her upon the bed made of old drapes, he had said nothing to her as he had inspected the skin upon her wrists. He wasn't sure why he had been so concerned over her, although at the time it had just seemed like the natural thing to do.

A piece of her hair had fallen across her face, and without thinking, he had reached over to push it away. His fingers had slid upon her sweat-soaked forehead, and Lucius had been overcome with something he had never thought he would feel for someone like her – compassion. Drawing himself away quickly, he had left her there and retreated to his own room.

She had been asleep when he had come back to fetch her, and even when he had lifted her off the drapes, and cradled her into his arms, she had been barely conscious. She had mumbled something incoherent as he had pressed a vial to her lips. The contents had easily slipped down her throat, and she had not complained of the bitter taste.

The potion he had given her was to heal her; she had endured enough torture for it to really affect her health. Lucius had felt compelled to help her, despite his inner conscience telling him to leave the girl alone.

The following day, the Dark Lord had announced that she had been sentenced to die, but at the last minute they had received a visitor. Severus Snape had walked into the room and requested the ear of the Dark Lord. He had stood above the girl, who had hung her head low, as he had asked to keep her alive. He had suggested to the Dark Lord that Potter would be far easier to lure out of hiding if they kept her alive. Their Master had thought on it and agreed with him.

Severus had also requested that the girl be held within his school, which he had claimed was far more protected than the Manor, but he had been denied this. The others had agreed that no Mudblood would step a foot into Hogwarts again.

That very same day the Dark Lord had left, telling everyone that he was not to be summoned unless Potter was caught. The other orders he had given were that none of them were to lure Potter out with the girl until he had returned and Headmaster Snape was to be the only one to interrogate her.

Once a week Snape had come to have his 'talk' with her when she had been taken behind closed doors for questioning. This had not gone down well with Bella, but she had complied with her Master's wishes, just as Lucius had to because he had hated to think of what Snape was doing to her behind those closed doors.

For days after the Dark Lord's departure, she had been simply kept below, but then upon Narcissa's suggestion, they had started to make use of her and the other girl, Luna. The Dark Lord had no longer been around to rule their home; Narcissa had felt that if she had to endure her home being a prison, there was no harm in putting the girls to work. The house-elf, who he had procured from a dead relative a few years back, had not been in the best of health, and he had been able to see her point in wanting them to work. The house had been becoming quite unkempt since they had not been able to hire a person to clean. That would have been most unwise, considering what the house was used for nowadays. So he had had no objections.

She had been collared to keep her from escaping, and the day he had been overcome with the sudden attack of weakness, he had been watching her scratching her neck as she had dusted the shelves. When the glass had broken upon the floor, she had stopped her dusting to clean up the glass and fetched another drink.

He had doubted that she was the sort of person to have become so obedient after such a short time, so he had had to wonder if she had been affected by his gentleness that day in the attic. Testing out his theory the following day, he had found that when he had touched her she had not moved away. She had tensed from his touch, but she had kept quiet as he had simply placed his finger upon her bare arm and stroked her.

He should have stopped then, after all, his curiosity had been satisfied, but the following day, he had found himself reaching for her again. She hadn't stopped him and had allowed him to touch her, but she had remained unmoving as he did so.

He had wanted more from her, and so he had sought it out, pursuing her and wooing her to touch him back. He had even spoken to her as an equal, and he had been surprised by her foolish ideals, but at least it had made her more comfortable around him. Enough that she had began not to tense when he touched her.

He now stared at her across the room, impatiently waiting for her to turn to acknowledge him. Then, finally, she finished with the window and looked over at him.

"Come here, girl," he called to her, and she walked forward until she was nearly within his reach.

"Closer, girl," he demanded as he watched the hesitation upon her face. He knew she would do as he asked, and so he placed his glass upon the side table in order to have his hands free.

When she made no movement, he impatiently leant forward and grasped her arm. She took in a sharp breath, but she did not pull away.

"These cuts here, do they give you any trouble?" he asked as soothingly as he could, attempting to make her more comfortable with his concern.

She shook her head, no, and attempted to pull back her arm, but he applied a gentle pressure to keep her arm from slipping away.

With his fingers, he started to caress along the small cuts. "Where did you get these?"

Again, she said nothing.

He looked her up and down while he moved to stand up from the chair. She did not shy away in disgust or fear – she was so used to his advances that she had become desensitised by them.

Lucius thought there was a part of her that craved his touch. That she battled with herself, because she felt it was wrong, but she so desperately wanted it. He watched as her lips parted, as if she were anticipating a kiss, which he planned to finally do.

He pulled firmly on her arm, bringing her closer into his body. He wrapped his other arm around her, whispering into her ear, "I take it you're still fighting with your desire?"

"How can I not?" she replied. She had told him once that she was not looking for love, nor was she looking for him to like her. But with his advances, he saw how she craved something from it, and it appeared that she hated not knowing what it was.

He laughed at her words and moved her more tightly into his embrace. "I've taken to stop fighting it."

These words changed her mood very quickly, and she tried to push back as she asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"You have wife for that, Malfoy. Take it up with her," she scolded him, which made his grasp on her more firm.

"I have been treating you fairly since you came here. Never, ever, bring that up again if you value my fairness."

"Fairness!" she hissed. "Nothing is fair here. You have already admitted that, even if I tried to stop you from... doing what you do with me, you would have pursued harder. There is no fairness here; don't try that with me."

"Don't victimise yourself with me. You've touched me of your own accord," he sneered.

Inwardly enraged, Lucius merely looked at her with calm, penetrating eyes. He was right; she hated that he was, but she had chosen this path, and she had to accept the consequences of that choice.

His grip slackened, and she took that opportunity to move away from him. But, as she stepped away, something must have caught her eye behind him. Her loud gasp caused him to turn his head toward the doorway, but no one was there. Turning around to look back at her, he found that she had paled considerably.

"Was that your wife?"

"It matters not."

"It doesn't matter?" she asked in disbelief.

"No," he simply replied without further explanation, and to empathise that point he walked toward her, cupped her face, and gave her a chaste kiss upon her forehead.

"Why wouldn't..." She didn't get to finish her question because Lucius stopped her speaking by bringing his mouth to hers.