My Dirty Little Secret.


Beauty was the most rentable good existing. One couldn't fight beauty; it had the most stupefying power on Men.

Beauty was everlasting; it couldn't perish. One thing that will remain for ever in history, no matter what people have the power or what war was going on, was beauty. One thing that was saved, and conserved with proud and greed was splendour.

History told it all the time.

Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman of all Greece, had caused thousands of dead soldiers, but still very few blamed her. How could you curse her? She was the epitome of loveliness.

Athena, Pompeii, the Antique Greece, the Rome Empire would never be forget because of the beauty it had created.

Painters as Michangelo, Monet, Edelfelt and Renoir would never be forget. Painters are the true heroes and the most acute viewers of their time. What do you connect at first with Da Vinci? Mona Lisa of course; to hell with his inventions; he only remained in history because of one painting.

Being good wasn't rentable; or only rentable a short time. Those who were heroes could suddenly become the scum of the earth in a space of fifty years. Those who had fought bravely in battles could suddenly be only seen as murderers. In one hundred years no one will surely remember Mother Theresa. She was old and ugly as she died; Marilyn Monroe would be remembered forever.

Evil was very rentable too. Names like Hitler or Voldemort will forever be in history books. But Evil was evil, and people had a strong tendency to fight it.

Whereas beauty, no one could criticize it. One was even praised for keeping beauty safe and alive.

One thing Lucius Malfoy adored was beauty. He treasured beauty. Beauty was his drug, his medicine, his crave, his hunger, his life-essence, his obsession.

In the dungeon of Malfoy Manor, he kept his most loved possessions; his statues, his paintings, his books, his jewels, his sounds, his animals, his sweet nothings, all carefully collected through years.

Lucius's childhood had been so sweet. So sweet and soft and cherished; He loved to bear in mind his childhood years. Kaïn Malfoy, Lucius's father, had been very close to his son. Both had been big worshippers of art. Melinda Malfoy, Lucius's much loved mother, had been a talented and brilliant painter. Lucius had grown up in his obsession, receiving feedback in return from is parents.

He married Narcissa Black for that reason. She was an exquisite and divine creature. He hated her character, but her good looks made up for it. Made up for it a lot. It didn't hurt that she was graceful and elegant.

But one thing Lucius loathed about his wife was her voice, which was snotty, sluggish and high- pitched. When she talked, you had the impression of being bombarded with broken shards and that your ears were being rubbed with extra care with sand paper.

His son, Draco Malfoy, was a little jewel.

Lucius Malfoy was so proud of is son. He could forgive his son everything. He had never been able to beat the crap out of him; nothing was allowed to hit that perfect little cherub face. Lucius had dozens of pictures of Draco in different ages in his dungeon. The sight of his son, a thing that truly belonged to HIM, made his chest swell up with pride. He owned such a beautiful little thing. He created it.

Of course Lucius knew that beauty had different shapes and forms.

Sounds were one of them. Lucius liked music, and the clang of magnificent words. Often, he walked through the enormous Malfoy library in search for names, words to pronounce. One of his favourite words was aniline, a special shade of red colour.

Another word he liked was a forename. Hermione. Hermione was one of the prettiest words he ever had heard or read. It sounded unique and exotic, somehow mysterious and complex. Lucius would have loved to be called Hermione.

He loved the way it rolled on his tongue; he liked to pronounce it in different ways. Some times, without even realising it, he chanted the name under his breath, like some kind of inner mantra.

He had received a huge blow as he had seen the girl in question. She was so… unattractive. He had eyed her carefully as he had met her and the Weaslys just before her Second Year. Bushy, light brown hair, buckled teeth with braces, bright rust coloured eyes. Tanned skin.

Even through she looked hideous, Lucius had sensed a potential under all that bushy hair and beaver teeth. He had taught his son the clever little tooth trick in hope his son would show mercy and rectify the poor girl's face.

He had been thrilled as he learned what had happened to her during his son's Fourth year. He had seen how stunning she had looked thanks to secretly shot pictures Rita Skeeter had taken. Lucius had been happy to see how he could discern the potential beauty out of such a human. She looked scrumptious, and Lucius had the feeling that it only the beginning of her transformation.

Oh how he had been right!

She looked delicious when they had fought in the Department of mysteries. He had managed to touch her face and hair a short time during the fight, and had almost fainted. It was so soft, a real treat for his fingers. Lucius adored touching everything, so his taciturn sensibility was very developed.

Her skin was so supple and malleable, and her hair shiny and soft. He yearned to curl his hands into that hair. Those curly golden strands had been filled with anger. He had seen it crackle under his fingers. Her eyes contained so much anger it reminded him of another person: Tom Riddle.

She was so much at the same time. She was so much Lucius was ready to sacrifice anything just to touch her face once. Anything. But he wasn't anyone. He would receive the object of his desire. No, not object, human being.

Lucius of course had despised Hogwarts. True, the castle was superb, but the people… The people were grotesque. Lucius had loathed being in school. He loathed Dumbledore even worse for forcing upon them this ridiculous robe rule.

This was why he joined the Death Eaters. Tom Marvolo Riddle had been an incredibly stunning young man. Handsome, so handsome it was almost an insult. His dark blue eyes were mesmerizing when hate and anger clouded them.

That had been before; Lucius couldn't help but shudder as he saw what the Dark Lord had done to himself. The handsome young man had turned into the most hideous, repugnant, vile and disgusting living item existstable.

Yet he had returned eagerly to his Master as he had power again. Beauty was one thing that Voldemort had promised to him. He had received it. Great amounts of it. Lucius had in his possessions paintings so valuable that there was no price for them.

The Dark Lord didn't command his Death eaters to rape. He was very against it. Lucius fancied the thought of Tom Riddle's mother being raped, or at least abused by some Muggle man.

Snape was an undeniable source of joy for Lucius. The man was so dark, so desperate, so angst filled, Lucius had shivers running down his spine and goose bumps of the sight of him. Severus's mask of deep despair was art.

Severus Snape's story was horrible: his mother had died in childbirth. The child was a stillborn son. Severus's beloved bigger sister died in a very strange accident. No one really knows if it was an accident, or if it was suicide, or eventually her father murdered her. She had been five years older then Severus. His sister had been his Ersatz mother, and she left him just before he left for Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was a long torturous time for him, being the laughingstock of everyone. But, he also found his true love, who bore the name of the stone of the dead: Opale. He should have sensed the bad omen, but alas, they married. They had a fucking happy ending. Severus was happy with Opale, who gave him a daughter and a son, Ophelia and Angelo. .

But alas, fate was cruel and Severus's beloved wife and children died. Lucius didn't know how, but so was the facts and Snape was going to mourn his whole life. This was the reason why he loathed teaching and apparently hated his pupils. They reminded him of his own Angelo and Ophelia that had never the chance to attend Hogwarts.

Severus had been devastated as he had learned about his little family's death. Lucius had pictures of those clear turquoise eyes turning slowly black. It had been a very particular thing to watch. That what used to be the most striking eyes in the whole wizarding world slowly turned black. Ah- the power of emotions!

A painful memory to Lucius was the burial of Opale, Ophelia and Angelo Snape. Severus had gone mad during the ceremony, laughing, screaming and crying. He ripped his hair off, and tried to kill himself several times. Lucius was the one who tattooed the name of his spouse and offspring on his chest, just above his heart.


Yeah- New story. Lucius/Hermione. Violence, blood, hostage taking, almost rapes and odd obsessions galore!

You better review.