Friends Like These
by Beth H.
(c) December 2007

It was the first time Lucius had ever been on his knees in his own home. A pity he couldn't have first experienced this particular perspective whilst doing something more enjoyable than groveling at the feet of the Dark Lord.

The marble tiles of the entrance hall were cold, hard, and unforgiving beneath his knees, but Lucius knew better than to voice any complaints at this juncture. Nothing but a completely subservient attitude would do now, no matter how great a fool he felt cringing before Lord Voldemort and the smirking trio who stood beside him.

It could have been far worse, of this Lucius was only too well aware. He knew he should be grateful that Lord Voldemort had not chosen to summon all his Death Eaters together to view the humiliation of his homecoming, but having been abandoned in Azkaban for so long a time had left Lucius a little less than kindly disposed to his Master. In any case, as it transpired, only Wormtail and the Lestranges were in attendance. Lucius could sense that Severus had been about somewhere in the manor when Rodolphus Lestrange ushered Lucius, none too gently, into his own hallway, but he was not present to watch Lucius' pathetic performance, nor was Narcissa, for which Lucius gave silent thanks.

"I shall, of course, make it up to you, my Lord. While I take full responsibility for the...unfortunate events at the Ministry...." Lucius wasn't certain he could sound any more obsequious and unctuous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Whatever you wish, my Lord. You need only ask...only indicate your slightest desire and..."

"Be silent, fool!"

Lucius had never heard that particular tone of voice directed at him.

He stilled immediately.

"Do not presume to tell me what is and is not possible," Voldemort said, his voice reed thin, but dangerous nonetheless. "I shall have whatever I want from you whenever I wish it." It was all Lucius could do to keep breathing. "For now, however...just get out of my sight."

Lucius could not remember ever having been so willing to follow an order in his life. He stood up and backed out of the entrance hall into the adjacent study, his suddenly-weak legs barely able to carry him, then headed directly for the sideboard. Steadying himself for a moment on its polished mahogany surface, Lucius poured a drink from the bottle of Hennessy's Ellipse he had long ago charmed to look like a respectable wizard's cognac.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace and shuddered. He was utterly dreadful looking, gaunt and ashen-faced, still dressed in worn prison robes. Looking away from the odious sight in the mirror, Lucius ran his hand over his stubbled scalp, then sat down heavily in the forest green wing-backed chair. Despite the blazing fire, Lucius felt cold. He was shaking so much that he could barely get the crystal glass to his mouth without pouring half the contents of the glass onto his already filthy robes.

And then Narcissa and Severus entered the room. Feeling an instantaneous wave of relief, Lucius reached out at once to take Narcissa's hand, but Narcissa's eyes widened and she took a step backward. Lucius frowned, then glanced to her side, where he could see Severus silently shaking his head.

"I believe that wouldn't be in your best interests," Severus said quietly, glancing towards the doorway. "Making your desires so apparent - even your longing for your wife - can only make you look weaker in the eyes of the Dark Lord, and that is something you can ill afford at the moment."

"She's my wife, dammit," Lucius hissed. His indignation would have had far more force if he hadn't started to cough before he completed the sentence.

"Yes," Severus replied calmly. "She is your wife. But we are all his to do with as he pleases, and it would be wise not to encourage his thoughts from going in...uncomfortable directions."

Lucius scowled, but refrained from saying anything in return when Narcissa gave him the sort of quelling look that usually indicated that he was behaving like a complete arse.

"Severus has been a good friend to our family this year," she said. "Far better than you could possibly know, my love."

While he had no direct knowledge of the particulars, Lucius knew only too well what risks one might have to take in order to be a 'good friend' in such times. He inclined his head in Severus' direction.

"I put myself in your hands," he said. "Has our Lord given any indication what he wishes me to do?"

"I suspect bathing would come at the top of the list," Severus drawled.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, but he said nothing. It was only natural that Severus would want to get a little of his own back.

"No, he has said nothing of the level of involvement he wishes you to have in our current plans, only that he wants to ensure that you understand just how much your failure at the Ministry last year...disappointed him."

Although he was aware that Severus was simply performing the duties of a messenger, Lucius could not keep from glaring at him, but Severus merely raised his hand and shook his head.

"Those are his words, not mine, my friend," Severus said quietly, the look in his eyes far too close to pity for Lucius' liking. "As I have already said, you need to tread carefully for the time being."

Once more, Lucius inclined his head, then extended a thin and unsteady hand for Narcissa to take.

"Carefully," Severus hissed. "Even an apparent need for physical contact could be an indication of weakness, which you can ill afford."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius hissed back. "She's my wife, dammit! Surely he expects me to sleep with my wife my first night back from that hellhole."

Severus' eyes blazed with warning. "Do not presume to know what he expects. If you...."

"Stop it, both of you," Narcissa exhorted. "I suspect Severus is no more positive of the workings of our Lord's mind than anybody else, but...just in case, my love, perhaps we should postpone this part of our reunion until we are on more certain ground. I'll have Dobby make up a room for you."

Lucius frowned. Wasn't that the name of the elf that had been stolen by the Potter whelp's trickery? "You allowed that treacherous elf to return to this house in my absence?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No, of course not. I merely re-named his replacement. It's so much simpler when they all share the same name."

"Ah." Lucius took a sip of cognac and coughed. He hadn't remembered it being quite so strong. "So...until the morning, then?"

"The morning," Narcissa answered calmly, only her eyes betraying her feelings for her long-absent husband.

Severus extended his arm to Narcissa, who took it without another glance at Lucius. Then she and Severus departed, leaving Lucius quite alone in the cold drawing room.

***

It was difficult for Lucius to imagine that he had actually been less comfortable sleeping in a proper bed than the narrow cot at Azkaban, but that first night back at the manor, he slept little and then only fitfully. If he had been in possession of his wand, he would have been able to transfigure the bed, but his true wand was still in the hands of the Ministry and given the prevailing tensions he'd already encountered amongst his associates, Lucius thought it unlikely that Lord Voldemort would allow him a replacement anytime soon.

The sun was about to rise when Lucius finally gave up the attempt to get even so much as one hour of uninterrupted sleep. He called for the new Dobby, but the wretched thing didn't respond to his summons, and Lucius was forced not only to dress himself for the day (an act which, admittedly, he had become accustomed to after spending almost a year left to his own devices in Azkaban) but also to don the same miserable clothing he'd been wearing when brought back to the Manor the previous afternoon.

Hoping he would encounter no one before having a chance to drink his first cup of decent tea since being incarcerated, Lucius went downstairs, only to find Severus and Narcissa seated and waiting for him in the small dining room by the garden. Both were silent, their expressions grim.

"Well?" Lucius snapped, sudden anxiety having ensured that the supercilious drawl he'd long since perfected for occasions such as these was nowhere in evidence.

Narcissa glanced at him briefly, then looked down at her rapidly cooling cup of tea as if in hope that the leaves might guide her next actions, but Severus met his gaze steadily.

"We have a problem," he said.

***

Severus always did have a gift for understatement, Lucius thought.

Having a nearly-complete Body-Bind Curse cast upon him the following morning and being forced to watch whilst Severus - at the direct command of Lord Voldemort - had his way with Narcissa was much more than a 'problem.' And having had a private word in advance from Severus that Lord Voldemort had revealed he would be situated unseen in that very room, observing Lucius' reactions, elevated the situation to a full-blown catastrophe.

It was bad enough that Lucius had not yet been provided with an opportunity to meet privately with the Dark Lord - he, who until that ill-fated venture at the Ministry had been Lord Voldemort's most-trusted adviser. But this altogether puerile attack on Lucius' dignity - and not only on his, but on the dignity of his wife and his oldest friend as well - was even worse. Only the certain knowledge that to challenge Lord Voldemort's wishes would bring about the complete and utter ruin of the Malfoy family kept Lucius silent, but it was all too humiliating for words.

The most humiliating aspect of all was watching Severus kneel before Narcissa, his inordinately large nose nestled between her thighs, while Narcissa tangled her pale, graceful fingers in Severus' long, greasy hair, not because of the shame he felt watching another man with his wife, but because it was so damned arousing. If only a full Body-Bind Curse had been cast, Lucius would not have found himself in such a state, but the casting had been done with enough finesse so as to allow movement of Lucius' prick alone, and the sight of Severus's long tongue bringing Narcissa to the edge of orgasm, time and again, left Lucius achingly hard and entirely unable to relieve his own arousal.

***

Lucius had hoped that his being subjected to such a disturbing (if disconcertingly tantalizing) scene once would satisfy his Master, but in this, he was very much mistaken. Each of the following days proceeded much like the first: Lucius was allowed to eat breakfast, then take a seat in a reasonably comfortable chair, after which Petrificus was cast, and the next phase of his punishment commenced.

As Lucius would have expected from a family friend of such long-standing, Severus saw to it that Narcissa suffered as little pain and indignity as was possible under the circumstances. And yet...Lucius couldn't help but wonder whether Lord Voldemort had been quite so specific in his instructions as Severus assured Lucius he had been. Surely dressing Narcissa in boy's robes and blindfolding her with a Slytherin tie before ejaculating on her bare throat was more likely something Severus remembered from his own early sexual experiences with Lucius than a scenario the Dark Lord would have suggested on his own. His sexual tastes - when they concerned humans, at any rate - were quite pedestrian.

***

On the fifth morning, Severus joined Lucius at breakfast.

"Well," said Severus, taking half a croissant from Lucius' plate and dipping it (like a peasant, Lucius thought) in the pot of boysenberry jam. "I'm no longer going to be an active participant."

"I see," Lucius replied slowly. "And yet I sense there's something you still haven't told me."

"You always were good at Divination, weren't you?" Severus said. "Yes, today is going to be a bit...different."

"Indeed?"

"You're finally going to be allowed to make love with your own wife again," he said, holding up one hand to keep Lucius from interrupting. "It appears, though, that you will not yet be allowed to be - as the Muggles say - in the driver's seat."

Lucius frowned. "What in the name of Merlin does that mean?"

"I'm afraid I've already said too much," Severus said, wiping the sticky jam off his hands and onto the white tablecloth. "However...I wouldn't bother to dress formally today, if I were you."

***

And so it was that Lucius Malfoy found himself bent over a chair in the library, wrists and ankles bound together, being taken up the arse by Narcissa, who had been equipped with some bizarre purple rubber Mudblood contraption that Severus informed him was called a 'strap-on.'

Lucius could feel the head of the dildo as it pushed in, deep and hard and...it was different from Severus' cock, of course, but the length and girth felt almost identical, if Lucius was remembering correctly. It had been so very long ago, after all, and he had allowed this invasion only the once, not having enjoyed it.

He was certain he hadn't enjoyed it.

But now, well, perhaps it was due to the sweetly-scented lubricant that Severus had insisted he use or maybe it had nothing whatsoever to do with that at all, but whatever the case, this time felt different, somehow. Better. Damned good, in fact.

Lucius tried to silence a groan of pleasure. He'd taken Severus' words to heart about not appearing weak in front of Lord Voldemort, but it struck Lucius that this very weakness -this vulnerability - must be precisely what Voldemort had really wanted to see from him all along. Thank God Severus was here. Lucius had long suspected that a few delusional people held the mistaken belief that Lucius was vain, but if they thought his vanity extended to putting himself on display in this manner then they were greater fools than he at first believed. However, as abhorrent as this experience was, knowing that the Dark Lord was not the only one watching - that Severus was there watching too - made it all less bad, somehow. More familiar, perhaps.

He gave an another unintentional moan of pure arousal as Narcissa stroked him with her scarf, then wrapped its silken length around his neck. The scarf tightened almost imperceptibly and Lucius' breath caught in his throat, That Narcissa had chosen to introduce a scarf at this stage in their lovemaking could not have been a coincidence.

Lucius had always striven to keep his less common sexual interests out of his marriage, sure that his wife would hold them in distaste, but it was possible he had been mistaken all those years. Exposing their sexual practices to the watchful, serpentine eyes of Lord Voldemort was not something Narcissa would ever have done of her own volition, of course - of this, Lucius was certain, for she was no exhibitionist - but while Narcissa had never displayed even the faintest knowledge of such things as scarf play before, she seemed to be taking to it quite readily.

Too readily, Lucius feared. He promised himself at the start of this that he would not give Lord Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing him come apart completely in such a public manner, but the combination of Narcissa's sinuous movements, the dildo's thick rubber head hitting his prostate and his wife's scarf wrapped tightly around his neck was all too much. It had been so long - too long - since Lucius had felt his wife's smooth skin against his body, had been able to breathe in her scent, even with such shallow breaths as the scarf allowed, and it was only a matter of moments before Lucius cried out as the pulsing tide of his orgasm swept over him.

***

When Lucius awoke, it was to the unwelcome sight of his mad sister-in-law looking down at him. He sat up and attempted to arrange his robes into a reasonably respectable state, but Bellatrix just shook her head dismissively.

"Indolent bastard. What my sister sees in you is utterly beyond my understanding. Well, I certainly hope you've been enjoying your convalescence, because when our Master returns to the manor at midnight, he will...."

Lucius frowned. "When he returns?"

"Did your stay in Azkaban strip away your hearing with your wits? Surely you noticed that the Dark Lord has been away ever since the evening of your return." Bellatrix sneered at Lucius. "If you ask me, I suspect he stayed away because he couldn't stand the sight of you."

"Perhaps I'm being obtuse, but...are you absolutely certain our Lord has been away this entire week?"

The sound Bellatrix made in response was a combination of a hag's cackle and a snort of disgust. "You really have lost your wits, haven't you? For the sake of my sister, see that you find them before he grants you an audience. You haven't been punished as you deserved by the Dark Lord for last year's debacle, but if you don't appear to be ready to do your duty now that you are free from Ministry control, well...it's unlikely he'll be quite so lenient with you this time around."

And with that, Bellatrix swept out of the room.

When Lucius, still sitting on the floor, looked up, Severus was standing precisely where Bellatrix had been. He raised an eyebrow, but looked at Lucius a bit sheepishly (or as sheepishly as it was possible for Severus' face to become).

"If it's any consolation," Severus said," Narcissa really didn't appear to enjoy things very much... until today, that is."

Lucius shook his head in disbelief. "He really hasn't been here at the manor since the day I returned?"

"I'm afraid not."

"And this was in aid of...what?" Lucius asked, his tone surprisingly calm, given the circumstances. "What was this for you? A game? A thrown gauntlet? A response to an imagined insult? Your reward for being what Narcissa terms a 'good friend?'"

"Perhaps all those things," Severus murmured. "And then too, well, your wife is quite lovely and it's been quite some time since I've had an opportunity to engage in such . . . intimacies."

"Quite some time?" Lucius said angrily. "I was in Azkaban for months!"

"Months?" Snape snorted dismissively. "Try years."

"Years? Years without . . . .intimacies?" Lucius asked, every hint of animosity gone as quickly as it had appeared at this revelation. "Good Lord!"

Severus scowled. "We didn't all inherit an infinite number of galleons," he muttered.

Or a manor house, a respected family name, charm, wit, or a damned fine head of hair, Lucius thought. It wasn't merely the size of his vault at Gringotts which had won Narcissa's hand in marriage, no matter what Severus might think. Ah, well...he supposed he could afford to be magnanimous.

"I'm afraid I can't do anything about your unfortunate family connections, but...would you like to join us for an early dinner?" Lucius asked. "It would be just the three of us."

"Thank you for the invitation," Severus said, "but I think it would be wiser if I were nowhere in the vicinity when Narcissa discovers the role she was made to play in this little game of mine." He gave Lucius the crooked smile that very few people had ever seen. "There's a reason I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. Only a fool would be brave enough to risk subjecting himself to one of the Black family curses."

Lucius laughed, despite himself. After all, Severus was almost family, and now that Lucius knew Narcissa would be his and his alone once more, as she should be, he found it surprisingly easy to forgive and forget.

Or at least to forgive.

Comments, critiques, chit chat: bethbethbeth @ gmail.com

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