Dangerous Games

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine but this is Rosmerta as I see her. After HBP this story is obviously AU.

Dangerous Games

Chapter 11: Disturbing Memories

Lucius Malfoy hastened into his study and warded the door behind him. Although he wasn’t normally one to hurry, on this occasion he decided it was necessary.

He needed to regain his composure after seeing Rosmerta again.

He was also avoiding Narcissa. He was definitely not in the mood to engage in idle chatter. She had been getting on his nerves lately. All she wanted to do was complain about her life and the things she thought he should be doing.

He was amazed at how everyone thought he had the ideal life but in truth, he had given up a lot to serve the Dark Lord.

It was necessary, he reminded himself.

He hadn’t really had a choice.

Lucius shook off the memories that threatened to overcome him.

He needed to focus.

Things had gotten out of control lately and the strain Lucius was under was taking its toll. He wasn’t sleeping well at all. He was on edge. He felt like he was waiting for something to happen.

Lucius did not like waiting.

He wanted to be in control at all times.

Except those times when he let Rosmerta take control…

He shut his eyes as if that would block out the memories of her.

He thought of Voldemort.

Conjuring up an image of the Dark Lord was usually enough to quell his thoughts of Rosmerta. In addition to any feelings of desire that followed those thoughts.

Emasculation was the term that readily came to mind. Lucius felt powerless. The Dark Lord seemed to control everything he did.

He wondered at the anxious mood he had been in lately. When he thought about it he realized nothing had really changed over the years.

The Dark Lord was pressing him…that was nothing new.

Narcissa continually nagged him. Was there a time when she didn’t? Not that he could remember.

Draco was weak, spoiled, a coward. Again this was nothing remarkable.

What was it that had changed then?

Lucius suddenly opened his eyes.

It was he. He was the one who had changed!

There was a time when he relished his life; he had enjoyed the power and money his position afforded him. Now instead of accepting his life, he found it unbearable.

He was tired of making excuses for his son.

He could not tolerate Narcissa’s complaining any longer and had to restrain himself from strangling her out of pure frustration.

Moreover, he was having an increasingly difficult time shielding his growing dissatisfaction from the Dark Lord.

But was this really a change? Hadn’t he felt this way before? It had been twenty years ago but the feelings had never really gone away. He had wadded them up into a little ball and stored them away.

Far away, where no one could find them.

Now they were back, full force.

Lucius had to admit that Rosmerta was the catalyst for these feelings…then and now.

The memories he had pushed away now returned, seeping though his defenses.

Memories of Rosmerta…

He hadn’t seen her for weeks since that day in her father’s store room. He had deliberately stayed away.

He had told himself that it meant nothing to him. Just another example of Lucius taking what he wanted when he wanted it. He was a Malfoy. That was his custom.

He found he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He knew he could not go back to see her. His father would frown on it. Only a Pureblood witch for his son.

So what was he doing in Knockturn Alley? School was about to start and it was flooded with students getting their books and other necessities. He was just bored and looking for some fun…he wasn’t looking for her.

Until he found her.

She was walking with her father. He watched from afar as they parted. The elder wizard went into the closest pub and she went into an ice cream parlor. As he followed her in, the coolness of the shop surrounded him. He patiently watched as she purchased an ice cream and sat at a corner table.

Perfect.

Her eyes flew up startled as he sat down beside her. Then they grew stormy. He knew what she was thinking; she had not heard from him, not even an owl and yet he now sat down beside her as if they were old friends.

“Rosmerta,” he whispered softly.

“Malfoy,” she answered crossly. He could tell she was affected despite her anger although she tried hard to hide it. As her scent engulfed him, it caused a reaction that reminded him that he was not immune to her either.

He watched her silently. He could sense her internal battle; she was trying to hold on to her resolve but was finding it difficult.

Her coolness toward him quickly melted under the heat of his stare. Actually, it was her ice cream cone that was melting, he realized with a smirk. The cool liquid was dripping down her hand and on to the table.

She quickly shifted the messy concoction into her other hand while reaching for a napkin. She was flustered and embarrassed and he thought it made her even more desirable.

“Here, let me,” he said in a sultry voice. He watched her reaction as he brought her right hand up to his lips. She gasped as he licked the ice cream off her hand.

His tongue licked at the sensitive flesh between her fingers. He was gratified by her response to his ministrations. Her face was flushed, her breathing rapid, and her lids were half closed as she moaned softly.

“Oh Merlin! Lucius!”

Then the moment of passion was unexpectedly dispelled.

“Oh, shit!” Rosmerta exclaimed.

She had tightened her grip in response and crushed the ice cream cone in her left hand. The gooey mess was all over her hand, the table and some had even dropped onto the floor.

Lucius couldn’t help but laugh. She gave him an irritated look that she couldn’t hold for long. His humor was infectious and she was soon smiling in response.

Lucius quickly cleaned the mess with a flick of his wand.
Neither of them spoke and Lucius realized he was still holding her right hand. She became nervous and tried to pull away. He didn’t let go but instead kissed her palm lightly.

“We shouldn’t…” she started but he smoothly cut her off.

“There are many things we shouldn’t do, my dear. This is not one of these things.”

“Oh,” she spoke quietly and he wondered if she was thinking of those things they should not do.

He definitely was!

He kissed her wrist.

“For example, I shouldn’t slip under this table...”

‘Lucius,” she murmured softly.

He continued kissing down her wrist to the inside of her arm.

“I shouldn’t spread your legs apart so I can see you….”

“I…” she was having difficulty speaking, he noted with some satisfaction.

He trailed kisses slowly down her arm, stopping after each one to let his breath tickle the moist area.

“I shouldn’t kiss the inside of your thighs making my way closer…”

Words continued to come out of her mouth but now they were barely intelligible.

When he got to the crook of her arm he paused in his actions and whispered to her.

“And I definitely should not lick you enjoying every drop of your sweet juices.”

He then licked inside the crook of her bent arm, flicking his tongue over the sensitive area and then sucking on her soft flesh.

Her eyes were filled with desire and he suddenly wished they were somewhere more private.

As wonderful as her skin had tasted he wanted more.

And so he had more. They had found an empty storeroom and he tasted her properly.

Lucius found himself becoming aroused by the memory. It didn’t last long, however as more intrusive memories broke through. He looked up at the portrait of his father hanging on the wall.

Bastard.

It was months later when his father had called him to the study. That was never a good sign. It usually meant he had done something to disappoint him.

“Lucius. I have been hearing some troubling rumors about you and a half-blood. It will end now!” the elder Malfoy commanded. His father was never ones to mince words. He always got to the point. Especially when dealing with his son.

Lucius speculated that he always had more important things to attend to.

“Yes, father,” Lucius agreed waiting for the signal that he was to leave. The older wizard waved him away absently, already engrossed in the papers on his desk that needed his attention.

As Lucius turned to leave the recklessness that usually comes with youth and is spurred on by young passion overcame him.

He turned back.

“No father,” he stated calmly.

The wizard looked up in surprise. He stared intently at his only offspring.

“I love her.”

The elder Malfoy was across the room in seconds.

“You dare defy me, boy?” he hissed. His hand swung through the air and hit Lucius in the face.

“The Dark Lord has chosen your fate,” he continued grabbing Lucius’ face in his hand. “You will marry a Pureblood that he chooses for you.”

“And if I don’t?” Lucius was amazed at his sudden defiance of his father. “I have not yet taken the Dark Mark. He is not my master yet.”

His father smiled evilly.

“You are out of your league, Lucius. While I can to some extent admire your courage, I want you to understand that if you chose this fate…”

The older wizard paused for effect.

“Don’t look so surprised, my boy, you do get a choice,” he continued. “If you chose to defy the Dark Lord, he will surely kill her. And then he will kill you.”

As Lucius stood there looking at his father, he knew it
was true.

“Now leave me to my work.”

Lucius was dismissed along with his one moment of defiance. He knew what he had to do.

Another memory surfaced. One of searing pain and a life time of servitude. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt. He could almost feel the pain again. It was branded on his mind as well as his arm.

An overwhelming rage grew in him but it too was quickly squashed.

What had changed since that time?

Nothing.

The Dark Lord would still have Rosmerta killed if she was in the way of his plans. He was actually surprised that his father had never mentioned that moment of defiance to his master. The fact that Rosmerta was still alive attested to that.

And he couldn’t let him suspect either.

Nothing had changed since that day. He had married Narcissa Black soon after that time.

They had Draco and he saw his own weakness in his son.

Nothing had changed.

Dumbledore’s Order was still around as well. And still as ineffective.

Perhaps it was time for a change, after all.