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The Downfall of Greed	By : tcarlson Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 40824 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make money off this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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The next morning, I sat at the head of the dining room table, a cup of tea in front of me and the Daily Prophet opened in my hands. Draco and Narcissa had not come down yet, and I was enjoying the time to myself. It was nice to read the paper without any interruptions. I must have thought that too soon for Draco stumbled into the room. He groggily poured himself a cup of tea and sat back with a contented sigh.

“Late night?” I drawled, sneering at his untidy hair and rumpled clothes.

“Yeah, I went out with Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle last night,” Draco answered, rubbing at his eyes and downing his cup of tea.

“It’s still no excuse to come to the table in such a state of disarray.”

“I just got home. Could you overlook this one infringement of the rules?”

“Your mother would disapprove,” I stated. Merlin, I hoped she didn’t find out that Draco was out all night. She’d bemoan for days over the fact that there was a chance that he could have been hurt being out with unsavory characters in bars. Yet, she had no problem with him receiving his Dark Mark early. Perhaps she is crazy like her sister.

“Her door is closed. She hasn’t left her room yet this morning. I’ll clean myself up before she comes down.”

“See that you do. Was there a reason you went out last night?” Honestly, I didn’t care, but when my son goes out with other Death Eaters’ sons, then it becomes my business. Staying on the Dark Lord’s good side takes a lot of talent and knowing the activities of other Death Eaters definitely puts you at an advantage.

“We were just celebrating the capture of the Mudblood. Professor Snape let them go out on a school night to celebrate properly at the Three Broomsticks. I think I drank too much,” he moaned, pouring another cup of tea. At seeing my disapproving look, he continued, “Don’t worry, Father. We were careful to not mention it in public and the boys are sworn to secrecy.”

There was no harm spreading the news of her capture throughout the ranks. Bellatrix probably had already done so by making personal house calls to each Death Eater to regale them of the tale. The only problem I foresaw was that Draco may have gotten too drunk and bragged loudly in a public place that the Mudblood was being held in my manor.

“I’ll have your head if you mess this up for me in any way,” I threatened, standing up and walking toward my office.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to work on Granger at all?” Draco called after me.

“I find it best when prisoners are forced to beg for me to come to them,” I answered. Draco looked puzzled. “How long do you think she can last without food or water or the loo?” I asked. “How long do you think she’s going to sit in pitch-black darkness before screaming for me to come to her? How long before she acknowledges that she is dependant on me and under my control?”

Understanding dawned on Draco’s face. His eyes lit up with some perverse glee. There wasn’t any doubt in that moment that he was my son. We have the same twisted mind.

I could hear him chuckling as I shut the door to my office.

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I busied myself with paperwork, glancing at the clock far too frequently than I’d care to admit. By mid-afternoon, I had given up on the paperwork and resorted to pacing back and forth across the room. I had my ears straining to hear any noise that may be coming from downstairs.

That stubborn bitch. She’d been sitting in complete darkness for nearly 24 hours. She probably hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink for two days or so. But if she was content to stay in her current predicament, than I was content to wait.

I refilled my glass of brandy and sipped it slowly. What if Severus hadn’t healed her properly and she died overnight? What if she was too ill to call out?

I was getting paranoid. I needed something to occupy my mind. I stalked toward the library, hoping Draco was around to distract me.

Draco and Narcissa were both in the library. Narcissa was working on her correspondence at the desk by the window overlooking the rose garden. Draco was curled up on the leather couch reading a textbook one of his tutors had assigned him. I went over to the chessboard and started setting up the pieces.

“Care for a game, Draco?” I asked airily.

Draco slowly lowered his book and looked at me with wide eyes. “How can you be so calm?” he asked.

“Whatever do you mean?” I replied, focusing on putting the pieces on the board.

“There hasn’t been a peep from downstairs!”

Narcissa snorted in disapproval. I ignored her.

“It’s Hermione Granger, Draco. Haven’t you always said she was stubborn?”

“Guess so,” Draco relented. He sat down across from me, instructing a piece to move to begin our game.

The room was quiet except for our murmured instructions to our pieces, the occasional crash of one chess piece as it overtook another, and Narcissa’s scratching quill on the opposite side of the room.

At twilight, a House-elf came to light the fire and announce that dinner was soon to be served in the dining room. I offered my arm to Narcissa and escorted her down the hallway. About halfway to the dining room, Draco stopped dead. My wife clutched my arm and also stopped.

“Did you just hear…?” she whispered.

“Shhh!” Draco ordered.

We all stood in the middle of the hall, cocking our heads trying to catch the slightest sound.

After a moment, I heard a faint and unsure “Hello?” About damn time.

I nudged Narcissa forward, continuing to lead her toward the dining room. Draco blocked our path.

“Aren’t you going to go down there?” he demanded.

“She made me wait all day. She can wait until after I’ve had my dinner.”

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By the time I finished my meal, Hermione Granger’s faint, questioning hellos had turned into near frantic screams for help. Talk about dinner entertainment.

I excused myself from the table, warning Draco and Narcissa not to wait up for me. At the door to the dungeon, I stopped to listen to the pleas of the girl below.

“Mr. Malfoy! Anyone! Please come help me! Mr. Malfoy! MR. MALFOY!”

I silently Apparated into the darkness to just outside the bars. Orientating myself based on her sobbing, I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “You called, Miss. Granger?”

She gasped and I heard her take several steps backwards away from the bars. I snapped my fingers and the torches on the walls lit, flooding the dungeon with light. I stood in front of her on the opposite side of the bars, my arms crossed as if she had taken me away from something very important.

She was a mess. Her hair was tangled beyond belief and grimy streaks where tears had fallen lined her cheeks. Her nose was running and her eyes were puffy. She swayed slightly on her feet. Probably dehydrated.

“Let me repeat: You called?”

She sniffed and seemed to gather herself. She lifted her chin and looked me in the eyes. “I was just wondering if you were going to let me rot down here or if you had planned to make an appearance again.”

“What I plan to do or not to do is none of your concern,” I drawled.

“I think what you’re planning to do with me definitely concerns me,” she answered, her voice slightly hysterical.

“I only came down here to stop that horrible screaming. Now if you’re quite done wasting your time, I have other business to attend to.” I turned to walk away.

“Wait! I need to eat! I need water!”

“What makes you think I’ll give it to you?” I asked.

“Well, I’m assuming that you need me alive or else I would have been killed sooner.”

“My, my, we are smart, aren’t we? But what do I get in return… from you?” I Apparated to the other side of the bars and appeared right in front of her. I slowly walked toward her, backing her into the wall. She gasped as I stepped close enough that my breath rustled the hair at her ears. I ran my eyes down her body with a look I knew was lewd. She trembled. The threat of rape is a very effective tool, I find.

She didn’t need to know that I would never touch her. For one, she was a Mudblood and I couldn’t stomach the idea of sullying myself with her. For another, Voldemort had mentioned he might want to use her in that way. He probably wouldn’t appreciate sloppy seconds.

Her hands came to my chest to push me away. I grabbed her wrists and twisted so she fell to her knees. She cried out as she hit the floor.

“I will tell you what you need and when you need it,” I hissed at her. “The sooner you come to realize that you have no control over your life from here on out, the easier this will be. For both of us.”

She looked up at me with huge, scared eyes. “What are you going to do with me?” she whispered.

“I am to deliver you to the Dark Lord. So you’d better enjoy your little vacation in my dungeon because I am sure that it can only get worse from here.”

I dropped her wrists and she fell to the floor. She sat in stunned silence, trying to comprehend and come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t just bait for Potter, but would spend her whole life in servitude to Voldemort.

I left her sitting on the floor, staring at the wall and fighting tears. She didn’t even move when I extinguished the flames, again leaving her in complete darkness. As I slammed the door, I heard her start to cry again.
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The Downfall of Greed