You Don't Need Blood to be Brothers

Lucius was in quite the good mood that evening given recent events following his not-so-pleasant visit to Azkaban to see his unfortunate brother-in-law, Rodolphus Lestrange.

He figured that the visit had bided him well, setting into action his plan to find out the truth of his little princess. He drummed his fingers against the cold, wooden desk, the action helping him think about his next few steps. He knew that Julius had also arrived back into the country, given the whispers of the ladies around the office at the ministry.

He smirked inwardly. Old dog, he thought allowing an undignified snort to escape.

Allowing himself a tumbler of Ogden's finest – he was trying to cut back you know, he knew that old Roddy Lestrange was going to be a push over, and doubted that he would get a lot of information out of the bastard, simply because he didn't believe that Bellatrix would have spoken to him in great length about anything. But he was the perfect starting point for Lucius's plan.

He thought about his in-laws then, Rodolphus and Bellatrix that is, and how they had the most unusual marriage Lucius had ever come across.

It was well known within the Death Eater circle that Bellatrix had eyes only for the Dark Lord, but of course Lucius was fully aware that Voldemort had this inane inability to have any sort of relationship – platonic or otherwise, with any other soul on the planet. But why Rodolphus would put up with that, was a thought beyond anything the blonde wizard could mentally conjure.

Did Lestrange not have a big enough pair to put his foot down with his wife? Actually, he didn't answer that - not eve he, Lucius Malfoy would be that stupid. This was Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, and old Roddy severely lost out on the wife lottery with her.

He shuddered at the thought of Bellatrix, the vile, unstable woman that she was. How she and his Cissy were related by blood was a puzzle on its own, let alone sisters! The worst part about it all was the fact that he had to go back to Azkaban to see the crazy bitch. If anyone was going to have answers, it was Bellatrix.

Sadly, he would also need to use an exorbitant amount of tact with her, she may be sociopathic but he presumed she'd still have her smarts about her. The Dementors affected emotions, sapping the good ones, and taking the souls. Lucius felt secure in this belief then, considering that she hadn't been kissed, family members were always advised of this prior to the 'kiss', and the abominable witch never displayed the ability to feel anything emotionally, the Dementors probably didn't really have much of an impact on her at all.

Problem was she hated Lucius. This in itself would present the biggest challenge. Narcissa was probably the only person left on this planet that Bellatrix would even look at. Lucius tucked this thought away when he looked down at the crumpled parchment sitting just to the side of his writing board.

Grabbing it and bringing it back in front of him, he opened it for what felt like the millionth time. Lucius's small, neat scrawl filled the parchment of endless notes, crude arrows strewn over the page, diagrams and a checklist to one side was observed.

Sighing lightly, he dipped a quill in the inkpot, further adding bits and pieces to the page, and crossing out others from the side-list. If anyone wanted a glimpse inside this wizard's head, a perfect snapshot of it was now down on this piece of parchment. Not even the brains of Nicholas Flamel himself could have deciphered head or tail of what was written.

Lucius however, looked at the plan on the page as though it was as clear as his ABCs from his childhood days.

Taking his quill to his list of leads, those whom he was intending to have "friendly discussions" with, Lucius made notes underneath the name 'Rodolphus Lestrange', adding further detail to his plan with the wizard. He was happy that he decided to have a bit of cruel fun with him. It may work in his favour in the long run.

Looking at the next few on his list, he knew that he needed to keep acting on his enquiries, especially while he had both Severus and Julius available. Many hands made light work and they were the only two he trusted, aside from Narcissa of course, but she needn't worry herself with such trivialities – he wanted to bring their daughter home for her. He saw her pain constantly.

Thinking of Narcissa suddenly, he felt a little bit of guilt having spent so much of his time away from the Manor and not giving his wife the attention she deserved. He promised himself that he would try to make this up to her.

A naughty glint crept upon his expression.

May be if I'm a good boy, she may let me make it up to her tonight.

He felt a slight stirring in his cock at this thought, allowing a quiet, deep moan rumble in this throat. Rising determinedly from his desk, he made his way down to dinner with hopes of wooing the lovely specimen that was his wife. It had been too long since he had thoroughly shagged the witch to the point where neither could walk and he was feeling rather energetic.

With a spring in his step and a determined mind, Lucius found himself well on his way to the dining room, inappropriate thoughts of his beautiful wife in blush-worthy positions, writhing under him, on him and everywhere in between. These thoughts turning out to be the perfect tinder for keeping the fire of his resolve burning.

Reaching the corner to the dining room however, he stopped abruptly when he heard Narcissa's laugh ring out and a deep, masculine voice speaking to her. Though what was being said was inaudible to Lucius's ears.

Lucius felt a pang of jealousy rear its ugly head.

Narcissa's laughter echoed once again.

This bored into Lucius's imagination – the thoughts of inappropriate Narcissa remained, but this time they were of her cavorting with another man.

That did it.

Lucius's eye twitched ever so slightly before... SNAP!

Storming into the dining room, Lucius had his wand out and ready for the fight, pointing in every direction. Someone was going to get seriously hurt.

The scene before him however was not what he was imagining. And he had just made a complete tit of himself. In front of his two best friends and wife no less. Narcissa's laugh was cut off immediately; instead her smile dropped as she stared at her husband, a slight frown of confusion on her pale, perfect features.

"Lucius, darling?" She called to him.

"…" Lucius looked around the table. His two best friends and his wife were seated and ready for dinner.

"…"

"Ah hem, evening lads. Cissy." Was all he spoke as he nodded acknowledgement of the dinner guests and made his way to the head of the table. He noted that it was the small setting, the perfect size for more intimate and less formal affairs, such as was this occasion.

How fucking embarrassing, he sulked to himself.

Before he could even take a seat however, Julius's deep laughter boomed throughout the dining room, pure mirth upon his features and he just looked at his best friend, shaking his head as he went.

Oh Merlin above, Lucius is losing it indeed, he chuckled to himself.

Julius's laughter became infectious however, with Severus finding it within himself, for just a moment, to share in the merriment. He relished in the feeling of laughing with another particularly another that was considered equivalent to his brother. Moments like these were few and far between these days for the professor.

Narcissa on the other hand looked at the scene around her with complete astonishment. Her husband, who looked mighty chagrined, kept a rather dowdy expression and looked everywhere but at the other table guests. Julius appeared to be calming somewhat, letting laughing sighs cry out as he took breaths to gain back any semblance of composure and Severus, well Severus was laughing so hard he snorted – sending Julius's laughter back off again.

I'm sitting at a table with a bunch of bloody teenage boys! She considered thoughtfully, but not before she really studied her husband, as discreetly as one could – could he really be losing the plot? It's all my fault.

Outwardly, there was no signs of guilt to be seen on her perfect feminine face, but Narcissa knew that it would eat her up if she continued to watch her husband, the man she vowed to love, to slowly go to pieces.

He only knew of Ophelia for a couple of days, yet he loved her more than Narcissa could have even hoped to feel from him in a lifetime.

As the ruckus around the table calmed and the men fell in step of conversation, Lucius eyed his wife to the side, she quietly sipped her Pinot Noir, a watchful gaze over the dinner guests. Ever the gracious host one would say, but Lucius thought he saw more. Of what he couldn't quite decide, but oh how he loved that woman and really, did it matter in the end?

Satisfied sighs soon followed, with all three men rising from the table, each giving Narcissa a gentle peck on the cheek, except Lucius, whose lips lingered upon hers for a little bit longer than acceptable in company. A hand may have also snuck around to give her still pert arse a little squeeze.

He grinned at her and winked; she could see the smile almost meet his steel gaze and right now that was enough for her to satisfy her previous concern for the man. Returning affection in kind, she playfully slapped his behind, and of which she would consider rather taught post-slap, as the other two gentlemen nudged Lucius in the ribs for the display between he and his wife.

Again, she mused, a bunch of bloody teenage boys! The sinking feeling though that all was not right with her husband remained a niggling voice at the back of her mind. At the back, maybe, quiet? Most definitely not.

Lucius on the other hand felt as though he gained a second wind. He reminded himself, as he did every time he, Severus and Julius got together, that really, they shouldn't go for so long between catch ups.

Sauntering behind the two dark headed lads, he watched with a smirk how Severus, a man of no-care and poise hung onto every word of Julius's most recent claim – a woman of course, by the name of Scarlett, and like her name, she was very much the vixen in every way imaginable. Had it been any other man, Lucius would have called him a liar, but Julius… Well, Severus and Lucius both know Julius well enough that there was only merit to the tale being spun. They'd seen their friend literally in action unfortunately, too many times in the past to consider otherwise.

There are just some parts of your best mates that you never want to see. Put it this way, Julius Peverell was not a shy fellow.

Sitting in Lucius's study, the three men settled in with a tumbler of '1865', a rather fiery brew that would put hair on the chest of even the most feminine of women.

"Ah, that's the spot, Luce," Julius commending his old friend on the choice of liquor.

Lucius raised his glass in agreement, polishing his off in one mouthful. Another three of the same, found the men feeling relaxed to the point that they could have almost dripped off of their respective chairs into puddles on the floor. The three pairs of eyes gazed at the mesmerising flames in the hearth, dancing on the logs of wood. It was making Lucius feel rather heavy bodied, to the point that the previously wanted shag-fest with the wifey was non-existent at that point.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere - he chuckled.

The other two men looked at him a little sideways.

"Care to share?" Enquired Severus.

Lucius chuckled again, but this time was more of a throaty giggle.

"Someone spike your drink mate?" Julius asked, a look of confusion across his brow, before turning to Severus -

"He still can't hold his liquor? Bloody lightweight..."

Looking over at his two friends, Lucius let out a mighty bark of laughter, which seemed to roll on for about a minute, in this time he laughed so hard he wasn't able to draw breath. His body had contorted up just so that had someone not known he was laughing, they would have thought the poor man was having a seizure and called for a Mediwizard immediately.

Trying to regain some semblance of reasonability, Lucius was quite aware of how flushed his face would have looked, but his care factor was non-existent. He wasn't even sure why he was laughing so hard – it wasn't as though his thought was really that humourous to being with.

Merlin, maybe I am going 'round the bend, he concluded. This thought set him off on another outburst of laughter.

A few more minutes passed and feeling much more controlled now, Lucius sniffed and wiped under his eye, while letting out a few breathy laughs before regaining focus to explain his outburst.

"I went to Azkaban to visit old Roddy Lestrange," he stated matter-of-factly.

Severus, whose dignity was now well and truly left at the dinner table, promptly sprayed his drink all over himself and the fire at Lucius's unexpected admission. Luckily the three men were far enough back from the fire, otherwise they would be having to explain to dear Cissy why none of them had any eyebrows.

Julius just stared at Lucius, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, mouth slightly open as though he wanted to say something, but had really no idea what to say.

"Why, in the bloody hell would you go there Lucius?" Severus found his voice apparently.

"You've fought so hard to stay out of the bloody place… and Lestrange? Seriously? Who'd you have to fuck to get access to that mongrel?" It was very clear how Severus felt about Lucius's little trip.

Lucius just shrugged, "I wanted answers and our dear Minister if you must know. He prefers two fingers, well buttered..."

Severus sucked in a laugh at the joke made at Cornelius Fudge's expense.

"Then what's so funny? You know, I'm actually worried for you Luce," Julius's expression was still trying to work out what it should be reflecting.

"Well, if you two would let me explain and not spit my fine liquor onto my plush and expensive rug" he eyeballed Severus just a little too tipsy-like and one eyebrow raised, "I'll be more than happy to play storyteller…"

And Lucius proceeded to do just that.

Recounting the entire visit to the wizarding jail and his reasoning behind it. So absorbed was he in his plan, and maybe the alcohol didn't help, but as he spoke, he stood and paced, arms waving wildly, narrating everything right down to the walk back to the manor and his gratitude for feeling the wind in his hair.

There was a moment of quiet after Lucius had finished. He was leaning exhaustedly on the mantle now, over the hearth, his back towards his two best friends who remained rooted to their seats. For a split second Lucius feared the judgement he expected to receive from the two men, their words were able to cause him more harm than anyone else's could, purely because he loved them and respected them as family.

And family always knew how to cut deepest.

Much to his surprise however, he felt the strong hand of Julius on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn around. He didn't realise that he had begun to cry a little during his story. Such motivation and drive that lived within his being, focused on finding his little girl, it was as though the madness that had started to grow within him subsided for a while, the beast going back to sleep, lulled by tears releasing pain around his heart.

Julius turned back and sat once again, satisfied that Lucius found his composure. With a little encouragement, Severus cleared his throat, ready to tell Julius about the apparition story from New Years in the library. He then added his findings from the paternity potion. Lucius deserved to know.

He knew that the two men in the room where the only ones he could be honest with. His suspicions of even Dumbledore, the old coot, were getting stronger. This alarmed him, probably because of his uncertainty over someone of which he always was so used to being certain.

On hearing that the blood belonged to a little Miss Ophelia Malfoy, Lucius's head dipped, clearly not understanding what Severus was trying to get out.

"Articulate a bit clearer man," Julius pushed.

"What I am trying to say," Severus replied snarkily, "Is that, I have reason to suspect that the apparition wasn't a ghost. I am of the belief, that what you and I both saw, was a... a soul. One that has a physical body, a heart beat..."

Severus tapered off quietly, but Julius had caught on.

"You mean like a projection - as in an ethereal projection?" Julius mused out loud.

"Precisely." Confirmed the hook-nosed Severus Snape.

:::::::::::::

"So, what can I do?" Julius asked over coffee and bacon the following morning.

Narcissa had left a couple of hours prior to 'meet up with the girls', Lucius shuddered at the thought of some of Cissa's lady friends, they creeped him out a little...

All their flirty giggling…

Very un-pureblood ogling…

Married witches batting their eyelashes in full public view…

Where were their sensibilities?

Lucius realised that he had become distracted when a balled up napkin landed on his plate.

"Real mature Julius," the blonde responded dryly.

"Then answer my question – what can I do?" His impatience was infectious, something in this case Lucius was grateful for. If anyone could keep Lucius's plan rolling along, it was Julius.

The blonde man smirked, raising from his seat.

"Tell me Julius, of all the women you've ever been with, have you ever considered that you may have been a woman in a past life?"

Julius Peverell was once again a very confused, but undeniably curious, man. He smirked back at Lucius in kind though, "I'm up for anything".