By: DangerMouse, The Great Immortal

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Lucius sighed contentedly, stepping out on the expansive balcony that came off his bedroom. Our bedroom, he corrected with a smile, glancing behind him, seeing Narcissa's shadowed silhouette peacefully sleeping on the bed they shared.

The night air was more than a little chilly. He pulled his robes around him then gently rested his hands on the balcony's cold, metal railing, leaning out over the edge a little. He breathed in deeply - the air was sweet and clean. Above him, the stars sparkled impossibly bright. Everything was perfect.

"Nice wedding, Mr. Malfoy. It hurt me that I wasn't invited."

Lucius spun around, startled out of his thoughts. His eyes narrowed as he saw the speaker and he instinctively took a step back. "Macnair..." he growled, in no way hiding his disdain.

"Such a nasty tone," Macnair replied, scoffing slightly, yet looking mildly amused.

"Get off of my property," Lucius said through clenched teeth.

"I'm afraid we need to talk first."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"The world is changing, Lucius," Macnair pressed on. He walked over to the balcony railing and rested his hands on it, mimicking Lucius' previously contented position. Lucius had the distinct urge to take the three steps forward necessary to push him off, but held himself in check.

"The world is changing," Macnair repeated, "and for the better I'd say. Our Dark Lord becomes stronger everyday. We could use a man with your... resources." Macnair turned around, briefly waving his hand to encompass the entire Malfoy Manor and the property surrounding it.

"I have no interest in any of this," Lucius said dismissivly. This wasn't the first time he had been approached by followers of this so-called 'Dark Lord.' To Lucius, they sounded no different then any number of radical, anti-muggle wizarding groups. "My father has recently passed on," he continued, ignoring the dull ache that ran through his system at the thought, "and I am recently married. I don't have time to go gallivanting around, whining about how muggles are destroying the world. My family and the care of the estate are all that concern me right now. Besides, the last thing I need is the Ministry breathing down my neck."

"Ah, yes, your father," Macnair murmured, rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Found dead in his study not six months ago, if I remember correctly. Just lying there, correct? A heart attack, they say. You know what's funny, Lucius?"

"What?" returned the younger wizard shortly, a feeling of dread settling rather uncomfortably in his stomach. Macnair was suddenly right in front of him, almost nose to nose, eyes filled with an expression Lucius did not want to identify.

"Your father didn't want to help us, either," the elder wizard whispered softly, his voice filled with a hissing menace. Lucius felt his world go suddenly cold, spinning around him. He staggered backwards, looking a Macnair with undisguised horror as the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks

"You killed him," he finally managed to voice, his words coming out soft and broken. Macnair chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"A heart attack, Lucius, remember?" Macnair said, his voice inappropriately light as he waggled a finger in the younger wizard's direction. "Dreadful, too, for one in such good health and so young."

Lucius felt his mouth go dry and his stomach twist. He stood there, briefly closing his eyes, trying to settle his rapid, angry breathing, ignoring his nausea. Now was not the time to be unfocused and after a minute, Lucius managed to pull himself together. Opening his eyes, he fixed Macnair with a steely glare and opened his mouth to order him off his property, this time planning to use force if he did not comply. He never got the chance to speak, however, as Macnair stepped to the side and looked past him, into the bedroom.

"Such a beautiful wife, Lucius," he said mildly, staring at the sleeping silhouette. Lucius immediately made move to stand between Macnair and Narcissa. "Your father's death was sad, granted. But hers..." Macnair paused briefly, a small, twisted smile on his face. "Hers could be a thing of nightmares." Lucius made an angry sound in the back of his throat and started to charge toward Macnair, but the older wizard simply gave him a brief nod then apparated away.

* * * * * *

Lucius sighed wearily, his head aching after apparating home. It had been a tough day at the Ministry. In the ten years since he had first been approached by Macnair (had it really been ten years?!?), the world had certainly changed, just as predicted. The Dark Lord was no longer a simple leader of a radical group as Lucius had once suspected, but was instead a very real and very dangerous threat. Within the past year or so, the ministry had begun to recognize just how great a threat Voldemort was, although far too late, in Lucius' opinion.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound behind him. Turing, he saw a trembling house elf, wringing his hands terribly, looking very much like he would gladly cut off his own toes rather than have to tell the Master of the House whatever was on his mind.

"What is it, Dobby?" Lucius asked with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The house elf swallowed hard and started tugging on his ears.

"Oh, Master. Bad men came into the Master's house while Master was away. Dobby tell them they can't stay but men stay anyway, go to the Master's study. They hit Dobby on the head," he moaned, pointing to a large bump that Lucius just noticed. Lucius leaned down and examined his house elf's injury.

"It's not your fault. Go to the kitchen and put some ice on it," he said with a frown, standing back up. "Next time the 'bad men' come, you and all the rest of the house elves just stay out of their way, alright?" Dobby nodded vigorously, his eyes rolling slightly at the pain caused by his injury, before dashing off down the corridor to the kitchen. Thank goodness Narcissa is visiting her mother, was the first thought in his mind as he walked quickly towards the study. Narcissa was very protective of the house elves - she knew them all by name and was quite friendly with them. If one of them had been hurt while she was here, she probably would have exploded with rage. Lucius smiled at the thought of his petite wife shouting angrily at the Death Eaters before fixing his expression to one of dour irritation he knew he would need when dealing with these 'bad men.' Taking a deep breath, he entered the study.

Even without being told by Dobby, Lucius knew exactly who he would find. "Avery, Nott, Lestrange, Macnair, Goyle," he said, greeting them each with a curt nod.

"Malfoy," Macnair returned in the same manner.

"What the Hell are you doing in my house and why are you injuring my staff?" Lucius said in an almost pleasant voice as he moved around to his desk, setting down his Ministry papers.

"What, no tea first? Civilized men should at least offer tea before discussing business," Macnair said with a grin. Behind him, Goyle and Avery chuckled.

"Just tell me what you want me to store here or how much money you want to borrow then get out," Lucius snapped, rapidly losing patience. It had been a really long day at the Ministry. It didn't help any that some of the Aurors were starting to suspect his involvement with Voldemort, one 'Mad-Eye' Moody in particular.

"Actually, we don't need you to do either of those things," Macnair said evenly, stepping up closer to Lucius. "You see, there's a small group of individuals which have been extremely... vocal in their dislike of us. The Dark Lord would like us to pay them a visit and quiet them up."

"I don't see what this has to do with me," Lucius replied moodily, glaring down Macnair with all his might.

Macnair blinked briefly in mock confusion before laughing slightly. "Well, I though it was frankly obvious, Lucius. You're going with us."

Lucius' eyes widened in disbelief and he spun away from Macnair and walked across the room, almost laughing himself. He kept his laughter in check, however, fearing it might come out hysterical. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned back around to face the gathered Death Eaters. "You've got to be joking," he told them, shaking his head.

"Not at all," Macnair said, all traces of lightness gone from his voice. Lucius was suddenly angry and he heard his voice become very hard.

"Listen here, you bastards," he growled, his voice dark and low. "I'll store your dark magic talismans, books, and charms. I'll even give you the money you need to acquire more. But I'll will not put on one of those hoods and help you kill somebody in cold blood!"

Macnair tilted his head slightly and said in an almost whimsical voice, "Ah, yes. But what of the lovely Narci--"

"Narcissa knows exactly what's going on and agrees with me completely," Lucius said, abruptly cutting off Macnair in mid-sentence. "There is nothing in our lives that you can threaten either of us with to convince us to help you in that way. There are limits to our bargain and you've just crossed one. Narcissa and I would rather die than have that on our souls."

"That is very easily arranged," Macnair spat out, shaking with fury. He suddenly took a deep breath and calmed himself, his voice slipping back into a pleasant tone that Lucius found absolutely infuriating. "Very well, Lucius. You are obviously tired from you long day and not thinking clearly. We are not taking care of this little problem for another two days. We'll return then and you can give us your final answer." Lucius said nothing more, mearly glared at them until, one by one, they left. With a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul, he slumped down in the chair behind his desk., resting his head on his arms on his desk.

He must have fallen asleep, because sometime later, he felt himself being shaken awake. Looking up, he saw Dobby, the bump on his head much smaller than it had been earlier in the evening, looking down at him with some concern. Lucius sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes.

"Dobby is sorry to have woken Master," began the house elf, wringing his hands again. "But Mistress is returned and asked Dobby go get Master."

"Where is Narcissa?" Lucius asked, standing up and smoothing his ministry robes, his heart heavy.

"Is up in bedroom," Dobby replied, still looking distressed. Lucius nodded and dismissed Dobby with a wave of his hand, leaving the study and making a beeline for the stairs.

Carefully, he opened the door to their bedroom. It was dark, only three or four small candles being lit. Narcissa was sitting at her vanity, studying her face in the mirror, her expression kept carefully blank. She didn't even look over at Lucius when he walked into the room.

"Beloved," she began softly, "there is something I have to tell you."

"And I you, my dear," Lucius replied, going to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She said nothing more, so Lucius took it to mean he was to go first. "Macnair and some of the others were waiting for me in the study tonight. They've asked me to join them on one of their... errands. They've given us two days before we have to give them our decision and..." Lucius trailed off, noticing how rigid and wide-eyed his wife had become, her face filled with horror. Lucius knew she would be upset - even though they had both prepared for this eventuality, the very knowledge that one's own death was near was still terrifying - but he didn't expect her to react quite like this.

"Narcissa?" he said, his voice tinged with panic. Suddenly, Narcissa burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. With a sigh, Lucius cradled his wife's head against his chest, running his fingers lightly through her hair. "It's all right," he whispered soothingly, words and phrases of reassurance tumbling out of his mouth. "I won't let them take us terribly. They won't touch you. I can make a poison - fast acting..." At the word 'poison,' Narcissa stiffened again in his grip and pushed him away gently, standing abruptly.

"You don't understand," she whispered softly, tears continuing to run down her face. Lucius rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling, if possible, even more panicky by the moment.

"What is it, Narcissa?" he asked fearfully. "What's wrong?" She covered her face with her hands, taking deep breaths, trying to bring herself under control. She finally met his gaze, her sorrow-filled eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"I'm pregnant."

The words left her so softly, Lucius wasn't sure he heard them at all. His world shattered and Narcissa broke into tears again, this time burying her face in his chest, clutching the front of his Ministry robes in tight fists. He put his arms around her, steadying her as furious sobs racked her body. He thought back to his own haunting words said earlier in the evening...

To be continued...

A/N: Hmmm... don't know if anybody's ever done a story like this before (don't wanna know, either). What I do want to know is what does everybody think? Is this plausible? In the next part, I'll be explaining some of Lucius' behaviour later in books, etc.