the marriage stone (Discontinued)

Chapter 68 The Pursuit of Power

Lucius had been at a home when word of the attack on Hogwarts had reached him. Knowing that people had died and that his son had been in the stadium had sent both Lucius and Narcissa hurrying to the castle to find out the fate of Draco. Though he had hidden it, Lucius had been frightened - he was not a kind man, or a good man, but he had no desire to lose his son to some madman's violence. He wasn't entirely certain why Narcissa had followed him - she had never been particularly maternal.

The chaos that had greeted them had alarmed them both. Despite this it had been easy enough to learn of the events on the Quidditch Pitch. Those uninjured were more than happy to recount the story in minute detail.

That Voldemort had summoned an Elder Demon had not surprised him - the man had long since past any level of sanity as far as Lucius was concerned. But the rest of the story left Lucius' mind reeling - person after person told the remarkable story of Harry Potter's heroic actions and his use of the King's Banishment spell. They all spoke of the rise of a new king in the Wizarding World.

He had searched for his son amongst the crowds only to learn eventually that Draco had been one of the people on the field standing beside Harry Potter and his followers. Considering the almost reverent way that everyone was speaking about the lot of them, he knew he'd never be allowed past Dumbledore's guards to see his son. He wasn't certain what he thought of his son's actions - certainly it was out of character. But at least he was relieved to hear he was still alive. Narcissa had a few choice words to say about Gryffindors and how their idiocy must have rubbed off on Draco. But he couldn't help but think that Draco would come out of this situation far more elevated in rank than his marriage to Charlie would ever afford him. Indeed he suspected the entire Weasley family had just risen in status far above his own.

Eventually he and Narcissa had returned home, and there Lucius began to hear a bell toling far in the distance.

It was several hours before he came to understand exactly what it was he was hearing, and hours more before he understood what it meant. By the time he realized that the Dark Mark upon his arm would prevent him from answer the Call he was far into madness. He had driven Narcissa into hiding. She locked herself in her rooms and refused to come out.

The pain in his arm was horrible, but he'd survived pain before. Far worse was the terrible rage he felt at being denied his proper place in the world. His whole life had been spent in the pursuit of power and here it was at his fingertips and the Dark Lord was preventing him from grasping it. Never before had he felt such hatred toward the man, or regretted so greatly his decision to swear himself to his cause. The man had betrayed them all, and Lucius was utterly powerless to do anything about it.

Over the course of that fateful night, he'd destroyed the West Wing of the manor - it would take months of rebuilding before all his hex damage was repaired.

He spent the early hours before dawn in the bed of his current mistress and had exhausted her into a state of unconsciousness before too long. When he'd awakened hours later still enraged but at last once again in control of himself, he'd found himself looking at the girl asleep beside him as if he'd never seen her before.

It wasn't the numerous bruises and marks he'd left upon her body that so captivated him - rather it was her dark hair and slender build. Both traits went against his normal tastes. He'd always preferred blonds; there was a reason he had chosen Narcissa for his wife when he could just as easily have taken Bellatrix. And he had always preferred his women to be far more voluptuous - at the very least well endowed. This girl was anything but curvy - her body was athletic and quite slim, her chest nearly flat. Yet he'd kept her at his side for several months now despite these facts. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he'd been so drawn to her.