Hello everyone! This is a oneshot I've longed to write ever since the brilliant Jason Isaacs in an interview expressed his eagerness to get the scene where Lucius escapes from Azkaban. Lucius had actually been sentenced to spend a lifetime in the prison after his failure to retrieve the prophecy to Voldemort, according to Harry Potter Wiki. But during the summer of 1997, after HBP, Death Eaters in Azkaban escaped and it was covered up by Scrimgeour. Sadly, Jason never got his break out, so I figured I could write how I pictured it. Everyone remember how broken Lucius was in DH1, so I hope that you approve of my Lucius.

Have fun and review, please.

Lucius woke up with a gasp.

The nightmare had been so utterly terrifying it left him shaking with fear. This man, so changed from his former known, proper, composed and striking self, was a man who had lost almost everything.

He took a shuddering breath to calm down and assure his dazed mind that the images from his restless sleep were not real. White smoke swirled before him when he breathed out into the gloomy cell; a clear sign of the barely tolerable conditions in the famous wizard prison Azkaban.

Ever since Lucius had been sentenced to spend a lifetime in Azkaban, the staying had taken its toll on him. It had meant a monstrous decline from his expensive lifestyle to accommodate to the cruel and merciless world in Azkaban, with tasteless, thin soups, isolation, degrading tattoos, filth everywhere and a constant coldness that slowly but insidiously rendered him weakened. With his wand taken away, the last thing that truly defined him, Lucius had lost even his ability to perform magic. Instead of a powerful wizard, a human and simple man called himself Lucius Malfoy.

He sat up on the metal bed without mattress and placed his feet on the stone floor. No matter which time of the year it was, the walls, the ceiling and the floor around him emitted a cold dampness his body had to fight against always. He sighed and placed his pointy elbows on the knees so he could rest his head on the calloused hands.

In his insane situation, so far from his dream of gratitude from the Dark Lord and mudbloods who knew their place, there really only remained one single thing that kept Lucius mentally stable. Every other month he was permitted to have visitors for an hour.

He admitted he was ashamed to see his beautiful wife and loyal son in his sorry state with dirty clothes and heavy shackles temporarily attached to his wrists and ankles. And yet he found himself happy every time he saw them. And yet they came to visit every time it was allowed. Narcissa's pained mind brought more wrinkles to her still young face for every time Lucius met her, and it brought him agony as he was unable to comfort or take care of her which was his duty as beloved husband.

And Draco, who began to look more like him as he entered the last phase in his adolescence, would soon be a man. But how could he who had admired his father for his entire life become a grown-up with a suddenly absent father?

Draco used to be uncannily subdued when he arrived with his mother to Azkaban, and it worried Lucius. His son should only have girls, quidditch and education on his mind, not be troubled with the failures of his fool of a father.

During last winter when the family came dressed in expensive fur coats to protect themselves from the icy wind that tormented Azkaban, Lucius had thoroughly studied his son. Draco's eyes had been red and his face ashen. He had walked with a crouched back as if he carried the world on his yet too young shoulders. Narcissa refused to say anything about their son's exhausted look but Lucius silently contemplated if the Dark Lord was punishing Draco for the father's mistake. The suspicion only added to Lucius' despair when he was kept from protecting his most valued treasure in the world.

And this spring, Narcissa had walked through the grey corridor while holding Draco's hand firmly. Instead of the young man escorting his mother by the arm, the elder woman had all but supported her child.

The members of the Malfoy family had all been affected by Lucius' downfall and were now far away from their former glory with close connections in the Ministry of Magic, grandiose dinners with pureblood society and millions of galleons to spend as they wished.

Lucius combed his tangled hair with the fingers and stared listlessly at the floor beneath him. One year had passed since he was brought to Azkaban and he was already so broken. He didn't think he could survive even five years, let alone a lifetime in this hell. Guilt stabbed his heart when he thought about the two people he would abandon to the vultures of the wizarding world. But he was tired and couldn't summon any strength from his yielding body.

A loud bang made him flinch and lift his head to determined the source of the unusual sound. Another bang echoed through Azkaban and Lucius got up from his hard bed and walked the few steps to the bars that kept him confined. Smoke travelled along the floor in the corridor and screams followed from somewhere in the building. Lucius clutched the bars and banished the protests from his weakened physique as he strained his body to stay erect.

With his head pressed against the chilling bars, he was able to see the corners of the corridor. The heart beat rapidly in trepidation. Then someone ran around the corner and sprinted to Lucius' cell. It was an unfamiliar person in black clothes that did not resemble those of the guards. The man stopped immediately outside the cell and turned to look Lucius straight in the eyes.

"Why hello, Mr Malfoy. Hard to sleep in all this noise, I can imagine."

Lucius didn't recognize the voice either but comprehended it belonged to someone who worked for Voldemort.

"Tell me, what's happening?" he asked in a hoarse voice to his chagrin because he still, despite his pitiful state, wanted to be correct in front of strangers.

The man chuckled darkly.

"On behalf of the Dark Lord, we're staging a breakout to release Death Eaters. And it looks like we succeeded. It was embarrassingly easy to disarm and kill the Auror guards."

Lucius swallowed dryly. Even the prospect of freedom was overshadowed by his fear of Voldemort's revenge. Lucius had failed to bring the prophecy to him and knew very well he was not in the Dark Lord's good graces anymore. Azkaban had beyond its poorly ventilation and heating systems posed as a safe place from the Voldemort's wrath. But Lucius had no saying in this matter.

He whispered urgently, "Did you manage to retrieve our wands?"

The man on the other side nodded and rummaged through the pockets of his black robe.

"Here I believe, Mr Malfoy. 18 inches, elm and dragon heartstring, right?"

It itched in Lucius fingers to rudely snatch his wand from the man but he waited until the man gave it to him. A buzz of familiar magic surged from the wand, into his veins and raced to his core where warmth he had not felt since the day they stripped him of his wand, settled and comforted him. Lucius raised his gaze to the man.

"What will happen now?" he asked. The man frowned and gestured Lucius to the side of the small cell.

"The bars can only be broken from the outside. I'll blow them up so cover your face."

Lucius did as bidden quickly and hunched by the wall while hiding the face on his thighs and covering his ears with the hands. The explosion hurt his eardrums anyway and the shockwave made his whole body shake even when the echo had disappeared.

"That's it. Follow me now. No time to lose," his rescuer grinned and began to jog away. Lucius followed without looking back at his now damaged cell.

The two men made their way through the labyrinth that was Azkaban until they heard laughs and shouts. A large number of both men and women dressed in immaculately black robes stood beside a giant hole in the wall from where summer winds brought warm air into the prison. Lucius spotted several prisoners who looked like him with dirty faces. This breakout was big. One tall man in dark robes emerged from is group and cleared his throat.

"The Dark Lord has set you free so you can once again have the honour of serving Him in whatever way He requests. It is necessary that you join His army now when the final fight approaches where we will show the mudbloods and blood traitors which side really is the superior one."

The man paused and let his stern gaze travel over the crowd.

"But for now, the merciful Dark Lord grants you time to regain your strength and see your families until He calls. Take a broom and go home."

The man finished his speech abruptly and returned to his group. Now that Lucius observed the free Death Eaters, he discovered they all carried broomsticks, probably their own. A heap of broomsticks lay on the floor between the two groups and waited for the former prisoners. One by one the inmates came forward and chose a broom. Lucius saw an old but trustworthy Silver Arrow and picked it up.

Everyone, including the Death Eaters on duty, mounted their broomsticks and kicked off. As bees from the hive, they all flew through the hole and into the summer night.

Lucius flew as fast as possible with his wand secured in one hand, prepared for attacks, should the Ministry send out forces. But no Aurors arrived and the Death Eaters continued their flight above the starlit sea. Lucius revelled in the fresh wind that didn't chase away the slowly returning heat in his limbs.

After what seemed like hours, he caught sight of land beneath him. The large number of people scattered when each one began to fly home.

Lucius mumbled a charm and pointed his wand at the broomstick. Now the Silver Arrow would find the closest way to the Manor in Wiltshire and all Lucius had to do was hold onto it. The darkness gave way to light but it would still be many hours until dawn. It felt very odd to all of the sudden have freedom and ride a broomstick across England after a year in prison.

But the consequence of his time in Azkaban became clear the longer he flew. Fatigue spread through his body ad he began to sag, only the thought of seeing Narcissa and Draco keeping him focused.

Finally the broom started to descend but the energy the flight had demanded from his small reserves left Lucius weary to the point of fainting. He lowered his torso and rested on the wood, imploring himself to not close his eyes. He saw a forest in front of him and remembered its position to the Manor. And when the trees thinned out, he caught sight of the white Malfoy Manor. He sat up and prepared to land before the impressive gates.

Once on the ground, he had to catch his breath for over one minute until he could stand proud before his home. He stepped forward and was allowed passage through the gates and protecting wards simply because he was a Malfoy. He didn't waste time on taking in the garden as he walked towards the house, only concerned with seeing two people before he gave into sleep.

He approached the heavy door and knocked, acting so different from his former self. A house-elf unlocked and opened the door, and nearly fell backwards upon seeing its master.

"Master Malfoy! You are home! But Linky has never seen Master in such a state! Let Linky clean Master, please Master," the small creature exclaimed with a squeaky tone as it let Lucius enter his home. Lucius couldn't find it in himself to yell at the stupid servant who made him feel uglier and unfit for walking into his own house.

He shook his head and muttered quietly, "Do not worry about that now. Just bring me a glass of Firewhiskey, a wet towel and my dressing gown.

The house-elf bowed and disappeared to complete the tasks. Lucius stayed in the entrance hall, not wanting to see his son or wife with his filthy prison clothes still on.

The elf returned and Lucius knocked back the drink and felt it burn deliciously down his throat. He felt his mind quicken when the Firewhiskey gave him back some energy and warmth. Linky assisted him with taking off the smelly clothes and scrubbing his skin with a drenched towel.

Once Lucius saw the grime vanish from his skinny torso, he let Linky hold up his navy blue dressing gown. He stepped naked into the silken material that enfolded him comfortably. Lucius almost felt like his old self as he secured the knot around his waist and tucked the wand into the soft belt. He dismissed the elf and took a deep breath before he began to struggle up the staircase.

Stars disturbed his vision when he reached the top and he panted from exhaustion. He really was in bad shape. But he had to continue.

The decorated corridor, with trophies of magical beasts on the walls and red carpets adorning the floor, was indeed very different from the corridors in Azkaban.

Lucius halted before a door and carefully turned the handle. The dim light from the corridor invaded the dark room and its occupant. Lucius moved stealthily towards the side of the bed and looked down on Draco's sleeping form. It hurt his paternal heart to see his only child and heir so sad and defeated even in the deepest of sleep. Dark shadows under the eyes marred the handsome features and Draco's cheeks looked gaunt. He lay on his side with a thick black duvet thrown over his body.

From what Lucius could tell from the scarcely lit room, Draco slept with both legs drawn up to his torso. Something bad must have happened Draco this year to make him sleep in a fetal position. At least his hair remained untainted. Lucius raised a clean hand and stroke his son's head, in his mind praying that Draco would forgive him for the trouble he had caused him and Narcissa, and in his heart expressing all the love he felt for his child.

Lucius gaze lingered on Draco as he quietly left the room and closed the door. Then he quickened his steps to reach his next goal. The two white doors to the master bedroom made the final barrier between him and his love. He opened the door and sneaked inside.

With his wand he lit the antique lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Narcissa slept on her usual place.

Suddenly at loss of what to do, Lucius contemplated whether he should walk to her side or crawl across the bed to reach her. But a rustle from the cream coloured duvet ended his dilemma.

His wife turned to lie on her back and blinked against the assaulting light. Then she saw him. He saw her almond eyes widen while he drank her in. Her loose blonde hair framed her distinguished cheekbones, her cute nose where the freckles she hated in her youth used to be, her delicate wrinkles of sorrow and her slender neck. And then her lips moved.

"Lucius." It was barely a breath that left her but at that moment, he was at home.

"Yes," he answered politely and watched how she sat up and leaned her back on the pillows. She wore a white embroidered nightgown that elegantly gave her a cleavage and was held up by two thin straps over her shoulders. She raised her arms and reached for him on the other side of the room.

Her eyes grew glossy and she whispered with the voice she saved for him alone behind closed doors, "Come to bed, sweetheart."

How could he not comply?

He strode forward briskly and slipped into the soft bed where he had spent most of his adult nights in. And he only had eyes for Narcissa. She smiled sadly beside him and let one of her well-kept hands caress his unshaved cheek. He closed his eyes and emitted a groan of need as he leaned into her warm touch.

"How?" she mumbled and found his hand on the duvet, entwining their fingers. She had her wedding ring on. Lucius understood perfectly what the woman he had chosen for life asked about. He sighed.

"The Dark Lord requires all His Death Eaters to stand behind Him in these crucial times. We flew from Azkaban on broomsticks."

Narcissa gasped and pushed his tangled hair from his face.

"You're tired, darling," she said anxiously and edged herself nearer him.

He almost managed his trademark scowl and muttered to her, "I will not go to sleep now when I'm finally alone with you, Cissa."

She smiled gently and lifted their joined hands and lay them down on her stomach.

"Then do what you want, my spoiled husband."

Lucius unbraided their fingers and placed his palm flat on her stomach where the white fabric creased under him. A burning need for Narcissa made him hard and he attacked her lips like a starved man. Her sweet taste caused a rumble in his throat and he pried her lips open, thirsting for more. Her tongue danced with his until they both were left breathless.

Lucius dove in for her edible neck and she emitted a throaty moan only for him to hear. While he attended to her neck, he let his hand wander down under the duvet where there was hot. He needed that heat after freezing one year in Azkaban. With little care of the decorated nightgown, Lucius bunched it until he could reach into Narcissa.

Her legs fell open by themselves and he felt trembles against his lips when she moaned longingly. Lucius clenched his jaw and stopped breathing to not come as he slipped one finger between her thighs and dragged it along her damp folds.

"Lucius! I need you to… Please, come into me!" she sobbed but arched her back when he found her sensitive pearl. Lucius hushed her soothingly.

"Shh, Cissa, darling. I will do as you wish. I've been so cold away from you. I need you to warm me."

Narcissa nodded gingerly with closed eyes and grasped his arms to simply pull him over herself. Lucius complied and breathed raggedly into her open mouth from the sensation of having his wife under his body again. She undid the knot on his dressing gown and he rid himself of it, tossing it to his side of the bed.

He caught her worried face as she watched his thin, tattooed torso but he lifted her chin and kissed her lovingly.

"I love you, Cissa." he whispered, touched by her deep concern and she whispered her love back.

But now Lucius was so near her and yet not near enough, so he began to tug at her nightgown. She lifted her hips to help him get it off but that act alone had him groaning vehemently when she accidentally bumped into his engorged shaft. He glared at her biting her lips like she always did when she was nervous. He growled in a berating way, as a territorial instinct flooded him.

He alone had the right to protect her and he alone had the right to bring her pleasure.

He held her small frame against his naked chest and peeled off her nightgown. When he lowered her back to the bed, he caught one taut nipple with his urgent mouth and began to suck on it. His wife whimpered and spread her thighs further apart, inviting him in.

He sucked and licked the nipple repeatedly as he let her hand make its way down between their bare stomachs and embrace him sweetly. Her touch was so warm and right.

She slid her hand forward along his length until she met his blonde curls. Lucius breathed hot air on her other nipple, not content with her hand alone. When she returned to the exposed head he followed her movement and she guided him into her. He rested in her opening and held himself up on his elbows, determined to watch her face when he entered her.

And then he trust the whole way into her.

She opened her eyes and mouth in a soundless scream. Lucius sensed true heat envelop him tightly, clenching at the sudden intrusion. He panted loudly, in his taste too loudly for the beauty of the moment but he couldn't help it. She was so tight, wet and soft around him, a proof of her devotion and fidelity to him.

He retreated but then she wrapped her legs around his hips and placed her delicate hands on his bare cheeks, using her muscles to force him to move forward again. He complied.

Faster and harder and deeper until her breasts shone of sweat in the soft light. And beads of sweat covered him too as he thrusted. He began to warm up.

Each time he drew back from her, a coldness, imagined or real, would numb him. So he had to keep pounding into her, letting her pure, innocent heat warm him. She grew more frantic, clenching tightly around him, begging for release.

He moved back, back to prison, cold, cruelty, misery.

And then he escaped, rushed forward, drove himself deep, deep into her.

She came with an ecstatic cry and tears left her closed eyes.

And then he came with a roar, surrendering to the scorching heat that burnt him up on his bed with his wife under him. He fled from any thought of the Dark Lord and solely used his senses to take in the quivering woman beneath him.

He became warm and free.

Review! Review! Review! (Please?) Thanks for reading.