A/N: The following chapter is rated M for graphic violence and language. Trigger Warning for sexual violence.

"He will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generations.'" - Numbers 14:18b

:::

A jolt, a gasp—I gained consciousness suddenly, pulled out of peaceful, numbing blackness to a small, unfamiliar room. Restraints at my wrists secured me to a bare, filthy bed. Based on the amount—or rather the lack—of light coming in from the high window, it had been hours since I was accosted in the dungeons. Surely someone—Rabastan, perhaps—was searching for me.

Using what little light I had left in the day, I scanned my surroundings. My mind raced for some method of escape. The room that was my prison held little more than the bed I was tied to. Nothing to reveal my location. I could have been in any number of rooms in Northern England. Or beyond, for that matter.

I fought against my rising panic—it wouldn't help me now. Forcing myself to focus, I weighed the options before me: I could yell for help (as I was not gagged), or I could attempt to free myself from my bonds. After a brief moment of contemplation, I chose the latter, as there was no indication to what manner of "help" I might draw with my screams if even help was near. Better the devil I knew.

Pulling taut the ropes, I tested their strength and noticed that my left hand was tied a tad bit looser than my right. Concentrating my effort on that left hand, I began twisting and pulling, hoping against hope that I could somehow slip the cord over my wrist. As I worked, a strange feeling of pride filled me. I would not be a kidnap victim whose rash and frantic actions caused their limbs to swell and their bonds to tighten, thus reducing their chances of escape. Never would I be that weak-willed.

Soon, but not soon enough for my liking, my left hand slipped free, rubbed raw and red from the rope. My hand flew to the secret pocket of my robe which concealed my wand... Gone! The pocket was empty!

"Looking for this?" Jude stood at the darkened doorway, my wand in one hand, a lit candle in the other. He entered the room and placed both items on the left bedside table, just out of reach from my outstretched fingers, as a taunt. The taunt went unnoticed however, since the light from the candle revealed something immeasurably more disturbing. The walls of the little room were papered with photographs, scraps, and newspaper clippings. All of Lucius: Lucius as a young boy on Abraxas Malfoy's knee; Lucius playing Quidditch; Lucius on our recent Daily Prophet interview, my own face viciously scratched out.

"What is this?" I croaked; I had not spoken for several hours and my throat was parched. "Some sort of shrine?"

His eyes followed my gaze around the room and stared lovingly at the countless images staring back haughtily. "Of a sort," replied Jude pensively. He sat at the foot of the bed, a cold hand on my knee. I suppressed a shudder at his touch. "I have worked a long time for this, as you see. And I'm about to reap the rewards of my patience." His eyes glinted dangerously; his once-handsome face a distorted mask. "I thought you would be unconscious, but I'm glad you're not. It's better if you're awake for this next part."

Suddenly angry, I lunged for him, but my bound right wrist restricted my movement. My legs, however, were free; so I drew my knees back to kick at him. Jude moved away, laughing at my attempts.

"Fuck you!" I screamed. "What the hell do you want from me? Money? Do you want to see me beg? Or is this just payback for what you went through because of me?"

"Merlin! You are aptly named, aren't you, Narcissa? You're beautiful and rich, so naturally everything must revolve around you."

"That's not true."

"Rich and beautiful, let's not add liar to the list."

"If this has nothing to do with me, then why am I here?"

Jude thrust his arms out, as if showcasing the walls surrounding us. "What do you think this is about, Narcissa? What has it always been about?" He tore a photograph from the wall and crushed it in his fist. "Lucius Malfoy."

"Nothing that he has done to you warrants what you've done to me! You're insane!"

Jude laughed. "Do you think I care about the petty little squabble at school? This goes much beyond that. Let me tell you a story: Seven years ago there was a happy family. The father was a successful business man, who loved his wife and children and devoted his entire life to them and their livelihood."

Engrossed in his story, I tried to work at the remaining binding without him noticing. It was no use—the cord remained tight, and my wrist began to swell. Blood dripped down to my elbow.

"Then one day," Jude continued, not even looking at me, "the man partnered with Malfoy Group International for a risky off-shore deal. The consequences of the deal falling through would have been enormous, but the rewards were greater still, and the father felt that with MAGI backing the deal, he couldn't lose. What do you think happened, Narcissa?" He turned back to face me, his eyes wild. I dropped my free hand out of his sight.

"I—I don't know."

"Clever snakes, they pulled out of the deal at the last moment and dumped the blame square in my father's lap! His firm couldn't handle the broken deal. He lost everything; he and his family were completely destitute. Two days later he threw himself off of the roof of Gringotts. Later that same week, MAGI bought out his firm and renegotiated the deal based on Father's terms, tripling their investments. They had pulled out because they did not want to share the profits!"

"I'm sorry about your father, Jude," I said, my voice shaking. "But that has nothing to do with us. Lucius was your age when that terrible thing happened."

"That does not absolve him!" he raged. "The wealth of the Malfoys has been built on the blood of innocent men like my father. No longer can he live with impunity. Seven years ago he took from me someone I loved, and now I can return the favor."

Suddenly he leapt on the bed with surprising speed and he was on top of me, one hand pinning down my free arm, the other clutching my face, forcing me to look at him. "You are a means to an end, darling. I want Lucius Malfoy's heart on a plate, and you're the closest thing he's got to one."

I tried to shake my head. "You're wrong—the entire betrothal is an act! He cares nothing for me!"

"That's where you're wrong. I've watched him closely for many years, and he cares a great deal about you. At worst he cares what people think of you, and that is just as good for my purposes. Do you think he'll want you after I'm through with you? Will anyone?"

I struggled under his weight. "Jude! Please, don't do this! Hurting me won't bring your father back!"

"Of course it won't, but it will make me feel a whole lot better."

He straddled my legs, rendering them useless. With his right hand holding down my left, his free hand moved down the length of my body and began to strip me of my clothing. One-handed, his movements were rough and clumsy. Buttons flew as he ripped open my shirt, baring me to the waist.

"I might not have been completely honest with you, Narcissa," he said, breathless from the exertion. He looked down at my chest. "This hasn't been completely about Malfoy. I must admit, if he had been betrothed to any other girl, I would not be relishing this so much." Bending over me, he ran his tongue up from my navel, between my breasts to my chin. My stomach heaved in revulsion and joined another, more ominous feeling.

The Vow hummed.

"Merlin, no..." A dreaded realization swept over me. The Vow stipulated that I was to allow no man other than Lucius knowledge of my body. "Jude, stop!" With renewed energy, I began fighting back, not only for my virtue, but my life. I squirmed beneath his body, trying to find some purchase with my feet to buck him off the bed. "Get the fuck off me!"

At last I managed to free my legs out from under him, and I brought them back and drove both feet into his groin. With a groan he rolled to the floor. Taking advantage of his momentary indisposition, I swung my legs around to the night stand and used my bare feet to grasp my wand, and then transfer it into my free hand.

"Evansesco!" My bindings vanished, but at the same moment, Jude's fist connected with my jaw. My head slammed back against the headboard, and I was stunned and disoriented by the impact. He tore my wand from my limp grip and threw it into a corner.

"You're going to pay for that, you bitch!" he snarled. He gathered both of my wrists in one large hand held high over my head—with the other, he tore at my remaining clothes. "I'm going to take you like a whore, and Malfoy won't have anything to do with you."

The Vow beat violently between my ear drums—louder and louder as Jude neared his goal. "Stop," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face, "Stop this! You're killing me, Jude! You are killing me!" There was no doubt in my mind that if Jude succeeded in raping me, the Vow would strike me dead.

He was deaf to my pleas. He fumbled with himself for a few moments, and I took the opportunity, when he relaxed his hold, to lock my knees together and cross my ankles against him. Growling in anger, his fingers dug into my thighs painfully, seeking entrance. I was stronger than him in this, and I rolled back and forth to dodge his grip.

Roaring his frustration, he grasped a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back, forcing my body to arch against his. "Why don't you make this easier on yourself? Give me a few ruts in that whore's cunt of yours, and I'll send you on your way."

I spat in his eyes. "Go to hell!"

His face went red. Releasing my wrists, he put both hands around my neck and squeezed, all his rage and dementia fueling his strength.

I clawed helplessly at his fingers around my throat, as the edges of my vision darkened. Was this better than dying from the Vow?

My body was at the threshold of death, but at last Jude released me, and I gasped for air greedily. My limbs were limp with exhaustion. All my energy depleted.

"That's better," Jude sneered, and I felt him hot and hard against my hip.

Desperately, in one last effort to save myself, I tried to scramble away from him. He gripped my hips and pulled me back beneath him, flipping me over abruptly. He leaned his weight on his hand at the back of my neck, which forced my face into the dirty mattress. His knees pinned down my own and effectively spread me open to him.

Lucius' ring dug painfully into the bone between my breasts.

I waited and sobbed my anger and fear and hate into the soiled bed. He bit my shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and I howled in pain. There was no fight left in me. I was weak against the overwhelming force of his body, and powerless without a wand to channel my magic. Remembering my lessons with Severus on non-verbal spells, I flung silent curses at him. Avada Kedavra! Crucio! Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!

"STUPEFY!"

At once, Jude's weight was flung off of me and crashed into a wall. Instinctively, I huddled into a ball on the bed, but peeked out after several long moments to see my rescuer. Lucius was there, crouched over Jude's limp form, beating his face with calculated, but still vicious, strokes.

"Lucius!" I gasped.

"Sweetheart." He left the incapacitated Jude on the floor and swept me up into a fierce embrace. Unclasping his coat in one smooth motion, he covered my body. With infinite tenderness he planted kisses in my hair.

"I'm here," he whispered. "I'm here."

:::

I lost consciousness then; my body shut down, completely depleted of energy. When I awoke again, it was in another unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed. This time, however, a fire burned warmly in the fireplace and a house elf attended me, bringing water to my lips as soon as I stirred. Lucius lay slumped in chair on the other side of bed, as unkempt as I had ever seen him.

The bed sheets that swaddled my body were so warm and soothing that I almost slipped back into sleep, but I forced myself to wakefulness. "Lucius..." My voice was raspy despite the water I had just drank.

He jolted awake, eyes frantic until he saw me, and then he relaxed. With a soft smile, he gripped my hand. "You're safe."

"Thanks to you."

Lucius pursed his lips and hesitated before he spoke again. "This is a foolish question, but I feel the need to ask it. Are you in pain?"

"My throat and jaw the most."

"We have some medicine for that." He gestured to the house elf, who made her way to the side table to extract a bottle from several that littered the table top.

"I'd rather have a mirror."

He looked as though he would deny my request, and for several seconds I thought he would, but he nodded again at the house elf who left the room and returned a minute later with a small compact.

My chin quivered at the sight of my face, mottled darkly with emerging bruises-I would have a black eye in the morning-and my neck was already purple with the marks of his fingers. The skin at my wrists and hands were torn from the rope. Slowly I pushed the bed sheet down past my neck. More dark bruises dotted the skin on my arms, stomach, hips and thighs, which also bore wide red welts from his finger nails prying at them.

To my shame, I shed tears at my appearance. I had never looked more broken in my life, even after Lucius willed me back from the dead, and never since.

Lucius jaw was tight and he shook with anger, as he inspected my body. "I could kill him."

"You didn't?" Partly in surprise, partly in relief.

He shook his head. "I wish I had, but too many people knew I was looking for him. It would be suspicious if he were found dead after I tore the castle apart searching for you two. Though I owe it to him, now," he added, gently caressing my face.

I ignored the last comment. "How did you find me?"

"Rabastan came to me, nigh sick with worry. He said that you left him to talk with Slughorn over an hour ago, but when he saw Slughorn in the Great Hall at dinner, Slughorn claimed he never summoned you. Rab went down to the dungeons and said that a desk was turned over and there was blood on the floor."

"The bastard lured me back to the dungeons with an old note from Slughorn," I spat. "Jumped me before I realized what he was about. Merlin, he had thrown me against a table, and I asked him what he was doing. I was a fool to trust him."

"We scoured to castle looking for you. It was luck that Snape overheard a group of girls saying they couldn't find Ellison, either. Put two and two together. It was then that I roared my bit of foolishness that when I found Ellison I would rend him to pieces. In the Great Hall. During dinner." He smiled wryly.

"So you knew where to find Ju—Ellison?" I couldn't call him by his first name. He was an enemy now.

"No, but I was suddenly reminded that I had a way to find you." He tugged at the chain around my neck. "Malfoys have always been suspicious husbands. All Malfoy engagement rings are spelled with a location charm. I've had no cause to use it till today. I hope never to have to use it again."

There was catharsis and healing as we spoke of the events of the past several hours into the early morning. He joined me on the large bed, tucking me gently in front of him, his arms folding around me. It was strange. Lucius never appeared to me so human.

And falling asleep in his arms, I had never felt so safe.

:::

The official story was the ambassador's wild child stepson snuck out after curfew and caroused around London. There, drunk and unaware, he was ambushed, robbed, beaten, and left for dead behind a brothel in Knockturn Alley. The ambassador, ashamed, exiled said stepson to the Continent. The sordid tale even made page three of the Daily Prophet, complete with pictures of Ellison as a sweet young boy, and later pictures of him as a dissolute wastrel.

So convincing was the story that once heard, almost the entire student body and a majority of the staff vouched for its authenticity. "I could tell he was a good for nothing," they all said. "I just knew that he wasn't what he seemed."

The injuries I sustained in that Unfortunate Incident healed swiftly and without complications. Potions and salves made quick work of physical injuries that, though ugly, were not nearly as severe as my previous magical injuries. It did necessitate missing a few days of classes, however, which earned me a summons to the Headmaster's office.

"Miss Black, I hope you are feeling better?" he said as I sat down.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"The reason for this visit cannot be a mystery to you. When a student misses class on more than one occasion due to unexplained circumstances, questions arise."

I sniffed derisively. "They were not unexplained circumstances to me, Professor."

"Nor to myself, I assure you," he replied, surprising me. "I know and understand very well the events that transpire within these walls, Miss Black, and often those outside it. And this is where I must apologize to you. There have certain things that occur beyond my ability to stop or prevent. You have borne the brunt of most of those things this year. I truly am sorry."

I was stunned by his words. Several moments passed before I was able to respond. "I do not expect you to protect me from anything, Professor. We protect our own, and we mete out our own justice accordingly."

"It is the strength and failing of the Slytherin House, I think—this stubborn independence with which you rule yourselves. You never ask for help, at times to your own detriment. But you work with efficiency and ruthlessness. The situation with Mr. Ellison, for example." He leaned forward, radiating concern. "Child, had you come to me, I would have fought to bring the correct charges against him. What he did, regardless of the reason, should be punished. But now my hands are tied."

My laugh rang out bitterly in the silent office. "And my name brought low because what he did to me? No, I am satisfied with how events have played out."

Professor Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I am only surprised that Mr. Malfoy did not seek more dire consequences."

"There are certain agents who will be ensuring that Mr. Ellison will not be enjoying his stay on the Continent," I replied airily.

"Ah, I see. Well, then it is all worked out."

"What questions now can be left, Professor?"

"Just this: how long will you continue to tolerate his behavior toward you, Miss Black?" he asked, peering over his glasses at me meaningfully.

"What happened to me was not Lucius' fault."

He smiled, a little sadly. It was a look I was accustomed to from him. "Not this time—not directly, at least. But that will not always be the case. What I have found, young lady, is that there are certain relationships one must escape, regardless of your feelings of the moment."

I stiffened at his words. "You already know the arrangement between the Blacks and the Malfoys. There is no escape now. Not for me."

"A dark time is coming, Miss Black," he told me, an eerie echo of what Lucius had said days before. "Please know that help can always be found here."

Professor Dumbledore, with his uncanny ability of truth knowing, eyed me curiously in the halls for days afterward, but never mentioned his offer again. Perhaps he knew that in my case, any action of his would not be the wisest course for those concerned.