The Pureblood Coup

Sheherazade: Glad you are enjoying the story. Bellatrix will be in the chapter after this one and present throughout this whole story. She will sort of try to get back at Narcissa but not as openly vile and vengeful as you would expect.


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Chapter Two: Brain Damage


Many miles away, down the placid lake of Malfoy manor, were several rivers. At an eerie pace, twenty-five canoes glided down the water of one of the Wiltshire rivers, lanterns shining yellow beads of light on water like black glass in the darkness. They moved at an unnaturally fast pace, and what was more disconcerting, is that the men on them were not rowing. The canoes moved by sheer magic alone. Men were standing, one on the bow, one on the stern of each, fearless. For there was no chance the canoes would topple over.

Besides the canoes’ lights, intermittent lantern lights were flashing all around the river, far from the canoes. The men stopped the canoes, remaining hovering on top, as the canoes pulled to a motionless, stationary state. And they held their breath, waiting.

One individual put down his cigarette, throwing it carelessly into the water. He said, “Greyback! We’ve got ‘em! I spy a whole host of muggles!”

A man with a shaggy head emerged from a trapdoor in a canoe, jumping out at an inhumanly possible bolt. His feet rested firmly on the trapdoor, once he shut it and he surveyed the land with keen yellowish eyes. It was Fenrir Greyback, the notorious werewolf. “Yep. Let’s go and get those buggers to take! They are ours!"

Men as well as a few women raised their wands and pointed it at the stern of their canoes as if there was a motor to wind. Instantly, the boats began to move again, rapidly, approaching the shore. As the canoes all sped past, murky images darted by, composed completely of smoke with twinkling lights. They were the Hinkypunks, creatures used to lure muggles away with. Greyback had been specifically requested by Voldemort to use them. It was only one of the many methods being utilised to capture muggles along the Wiltshire countryside.

The wizards jumped off their canoes once they hit ground. In the distance, small groups of muggles approached the river, lured by the twinkling lights of the Hinkypunks. They might have been travelers or they might have just wondered where the lights came from. In their minds it was like a mirage and they were mystified by it.

The men who followed Greyback darted forward in droves running, boots tramping loudly. All of the men and women from the canoes were in a uniform: splendid black and yellow robes. Two entwined snakes made a double “S” on their chests. They were a band of Voldemort’s Snatchers and of course, not one of them had a Dark Mark.

Within moments, the Snatchers had the muggles surrounded and were casting spells on them left and right. One of the muggles, a woman in a long skirt and shortsleeved blouse screamed. Not a few seconds later and one of the Snatchers had silenced her. The others were put under Imperius Curses and told to keep quiet or else were knocked unconscious or stunned.

Greyback took no part in it. Instead he scanned the riverside with a few of his favorite companions just in case they needed to make a run for it. The other Snatchers returned, hauling with them the muggles they had caught.

Into some of the canoes the Snatchers ushered the dozen or so muggles in. They hurried to open the trapdoors on the bottom of the canoes. And then at once, Snatchers escorted each muggle down a ladder chute and into the abyss of the canoe's base. It was a dark and dingy atmosphere, one they would never leave. At least never departing until they would be killed for sport when Voldemort decided.

Greyback remained on the deck of his canoe, waiting for them to finish.

“Got our latest shipment loaded?” he asked one of the men.

“Yes, sir!” the man answered back roughly.

“Any of them younglings?” he asked excitedly.

“One of them appeared to be in their late teens or maybe early twenties, Greyback!”

“Good. Which boat?”

The Snatcher turned around to a different direction looking out at the mass of long, slender canoes. “I think- I saw him taken over there. It's gotta be one of those canoes.”

Greyback licked his lips and actually salivated, drool ebbing off his whiskers. And at once, he went with a loping, eager gait through the shallow water, which reached to his knees.

“One of you fellas’ put a youngling belowdecks?”

“Yes, I did Greyback. You want him?”

“I certainly want him! To have him all for myself!”

The men laughed raucously, used to Greyback’s ways by now. Then, they nodded their assent at the werewolf, for they were complacently willing to give him any share of the booty he so desired. Though they themselves had also taken part in the fun below the canoes during the past few weeks, ever since these adventures began.

But Greyback did not disappear under the bowels of the canoe. Not yet. He had taken out his rather short wand. He pressed it into his throat and his command reverberated all along the riverbank, “Oi! Time to turn back mateys. Carry on with ya!”

The men at once obeyed his words. The canoes sailed away from the river, passing by muggle boats docked there for the night. They moved at a rapid pace, yet the canoes' passage through the slow current was smooth and as soundless as if passing through an empty void.

With startling ease, Greyback’s sinewy arms opened the heavy iron trapdoor and he jumped down the hole. He had not bothered to use the ladder.

The space beneath the canoe was much bigger than one would imagine ordinarily. Magic had been equipped to handle the influx of imprisoned muggles, so that over two dozen could be stored in a space that should have only been room for a few. The space in the canoe’s hull was double what logic would dictate.

Greyback’s breathing was heavy. He searched out for his favorite of the recently captured. Yet many more were already held inside, packed like sardines placed on shelves like unused books. All but the newest arrivals were naked.

Greyback did not even pause to look at them as he strode purposefully down the narrow lane. Yet the muggles stared, wide-eyed and docile at him. They were like this from the multitude of jinxes, hexes, charms and curses the Snatchers had casted, making them obsequious and incapable of speech. Greyback’s sharp eyes only cared to notice the few of them that were dead and if not, terribly close to it. The werewolf’s eyes lingered on those near dead ones, lying on wooden planks as if beds. His attention span held a morbid curiosity for them, until he had found the one he wanted.

There was the youngling. The muggle was a young man in a polo shirt with curly light-blonde hair and wearing a calm expression. He might have been from a wealthy family and just visiting the area on vacation. He certainly looked to be at odds with the Spartan, dingy atmosphere, but from a Silencio charm he was unable to speak.

“Confundus!” murmured Greyback towards him. The man’s eyes rolled and he suddenly wore an expression of bemused bewilderment. The muggle was not yet terrified. But Greyback would soon fix that.

Greyback went for the muggle, lunging at him and pressing all his weight, bearing down upon the man. The muggle was knocked to the ground. Greyback whipped his wand out again. “Epera Evanesco!” The man’s clothing vanished and Greyback began to pant with wild anticipation feeling a hard-on coming on.

“Good meat yer’ look youngling…So I bet your taste is sweet!” And as if with affection, Greyback smoothed back the cowlick on the man’s curls, and held the head against his chest.

With barbarous aggression, Greyback tore at the man with an insatiable appetite. In a flourish, Greyback unbelted his uniform and then shoved the man’s head even further into his sweaty chest. It was a contortion like none would desire, but only a man, or rather only a beast like that of Fenrir Greyback.

His shaggy head dipped over the man’s back, as he pressed his lip's to the man’s skin. His lip's brushed down the skin and Greyback basked in the sensuality of it, growing harder with the all-consuming need to reach climax. His lip's soon gave way to his pointed teeth and he was biting. Little tendrils of flesh ripped off the muggle’s back. Greyback moaned with delight and sucked loudly on the flesh, as he curled his fingers around the man’s ribcage.

The Silencio charm finally broke and the man screamed. Greyback, becoming ever more aroused by the screams howled with an echoing laughter.

“Thank-you, my youngling…” he purred. Greyback had been calmed by the screams and now he felt a possession, a fierce ownership of this piece of flesh. But he knew his boundaries. The Dark Lord had told him to wait and wait he shall.

And now, Greyback was directly on top of the man’s backside, and his rather small penis was making contact with the man’s privates. It didn’t take long for Greyback to climax, until he had reached a howl, not unlike that of a wolf’s.

And with a renewed surge of energy Greyback leapt over the man’s hunched body and then sprung around to have another go.

At the same time Greyback and his crew was capturing and then ravishing the muggles in the canoes, a whole hour had past at Malfoy manor, in which Lucius had made arrangement for his wife....


*


Narcissa leaned even further into Lucius, clutching his robes like it was her life-line, crying into his shirt just under his robes. Lucius had always allowed his wife to show any emotion to him but only away from prying eyes. True, they had fought violently over the past twenty years of their marriage but they did love each other, albeit in a strange, horrific way.

Lucius steadied himself, and then wrapped his arms around the small of Narcissa’s back trying to make her composed. He clutched harder at the tips of her golden hair like last hanging threads, thinking of how she was being forced to have sex with the Dark Lord like a slave. Lucius hated how all his property, including his family, the commodity he valued most, were being taken away from him. First his manor, then his wand, and now his wife?!

“My little flower…I have a plan,” Lucius crooned tenderly.

Narcissa abetted her crying. Her tearful azure blue eyes looked into Lucius’s gray, shrunken ones, hiccuping. She saw he looked weary, but determined.

“For Draco?” she whispered.

“Yes…and you. You must leave Malfoy Manor tonight. We’ll have you disapparate just outside the grounds of the driveway.”

“Your plan is to banish me into exile, Lucius?…The Dark Lord” she added in terror after pausing. “He will surely kill Draco in revenge after I’ve escaped.” Narcissa had always proven to be bolder, much bolder than anyone expected once she had gotten to know somebody and she could trust they were predictable enough.

“Draco…will come along with his mother whether he likes it or not. The Dark Lord will be angry with this for sure. But surely not as enraged as when he discovered the lost diary. He will soon forget his desire for you, my little flower, especially after his coup.”

“Where should I go, Lucius? I should think to take the Knight Bus..."

She paused, hesitantly. Lucius could not tell if she was serious. If he knew anything about his wife, it was that she was too stuck-up to want to board the bus for the stranded Witch or Wizard.

"Back home to where I grew up…Grimmauld Place,” she completed.

“No. The Dark Lord will have it watched. As you recall from that wretched elf…Kreacher? Harry Potter lived there and is likely to return. The Dark Lord is sure to have it heavily guarded….You’ll have to lie low, Narcissa. Perhaps moving around muggle villages.”

Narcissa wrinkled her nose, disgusted at the thought of the muggle scum she would have to live around. But it was better than staying and keeping her son in danger, whilst being made to pleasure the Dark Lord for entertainment through dancing with Veela. If she stayed, she would be publicly humiliated as the so-called "Queen" of the party on Saturday.

“I suppose it’s either your plan or remain here and have our good name insulted for sure,” Narcissa noted.

“Come…we must hurry. Pack a valise and I’ll get Draco’s,” Lucius announced.

Confidently taking the initiative, he took Narcissa’s slender wrist and led her out of the study.

About an hour later, Lucius and Narcissa navigated the darkness of the grounds going through a conealed wrought-iron door in the yew hedges.

The couple ran full throttle through the paths of the garden, that led to the edge of a forrest where one could disapparate. Along the way through, they went past their apothecary, which is only about as big as a shed.

Light breezes cooled their slight perspiring, Lucius windswept, his cloak sailing behind in the wind. Narcissa was flushed from the short run, clutching a stich at her side.

“Where is Draco?!,” she managed to bawl loudly, despite being out of breath.

Lucius frowned, without answer. “Probably at Nott’s …Draco has been visiting his friend, Theodore all summer, never telling his father when he’ll be coming or going.”

They had already spent time after packing, discretely searching the likely areas their son would be at on Malfoy Manor. Their efforts had come to no avail.

Narcissa ignored her husband’s stern edge in his voice about their son’s behavior. Narcissa at this moment was as frightened as if Draco might never be found, knowing the possible fate that awaited him if she left the manor without him. Narcissa could not even think of criticizing Draco now, only her husband was always admonishing him.

Lucius spoke, choked up with a mixture of pride and disdain, “Our Lord is doing, Merlin knows what in our bed chamber as of the moment! It may be your only chance to go free….I won’t have my lovely little flower tainted by his touch. So this is goodbye, Narcissa….”

Lucius’s lips impacted Narcissa’s as gently as a fairy’s wings. The kiss was drawn out, becoming heavier. They did not want to let go of each other, but wished the moment could last forever, free of the Dark Lord’s commands. Their backs turned, entwined in each other, neither could see someone else in the distance, who had just left the apothecary, striding in their direction.

The hooded figure drew out a long wand at once and slid it up their left sleeve as if a drug addict getting their fix, then it sprinted fifty yards or so.

Lucius and Narcissa jumped in fright. Drawn out breaths were heard and a voice shrieked insanely, “CISSY NO! You will not flee and disobey the Dark Lord!”

Bellatrix had intervened, proclaiming her loyalty to Lord Voldemort as zealously as ever.

Through the pitch-black, inky landscape came a tunnel, and from it materialized a hideous face with a sand-like residue, until it came into the flesh. Lord Voldemort had appeared, thus catching the Malfoys red-handed.


Note: Please Review. I don’t really like mushy stuff…I hope you think Lucius and Narcissa are in character. We don’t really know what goes on behind closed doors at the Malfoys. We can’t be sure of what their marriage is really like.