Note: This story does not follow the dates given on the Black family tree. Lucius, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus are all the same age, Andromeda is a year younger, and Narcissa is a year younger than her. The three sisters are all in the right order, just with a different age gap.
Breathing hard and heart pounding, Lucius Malfoy impatiently blinked sweat from his eyes, his focus far too great to lift an arm to wipe it away. It was an unseasonably hot day in late September, and the sweltering sun went far to exhaust the seven young men whizzing about on the green pitch.
"Lestrange! What the fuck is going on over there?" he roared, squinting through the glaring brightness.
"I dunno, Malfoy," the largest of the group bellowed back, stumbling inelegantly from his broom and jogging the remaining meters to a prone figure on the grass. Lucius ground his teeth in frustration as he swooped closer. Rodolphus gave the small figure with a less-than-gentle push with the toe of his boot. "It's Rookwood," he announced with disgust as the blonde arrived. "Think he's passed out."
Lucius snarled in frustration, seizing his seeker by the collar and hauling him to his feet. "Augustus!" he growled, shaking him violently, "wake up!"
The boy mumbled something incoherently, and Lucius released him. He dropped back to the ground. "Leave him. He'll get up eventually."
Rodolphus shifted the Beater's bat his other shoulder, frowning slightly at the immobile boy as the other Beater soared down.
"What going on, then? Are we taking a break or what?"
"We're done for the day, it seems, Rosier," Lucius replied icily. "And I'll be looking for a new Seeker. Unfortunately, they don't give enough time during tryouts to test endurance."
"Hey, are we practicing or what?" The younger Lestrange brother flew in, quaffle under his arm. Rodolphus knocked his sibling off his broom as he hovered nearby. "Hey!" he shouted, hopping up and shoving back ineffectually. With a lazy swipe, Rodolphus downed him once more, sniggering. Lucius glared.
"Stop it. When I let Rabastan on the team, you said there would be none of this immaturity."
Rodolphus grinned and shrugged. Of the other six team members, he was the only one that did not fear their captain. Lucius rolled his eyes.
"Wilkes! Yaxley!" he summoned the remaining two down. "We're done for today."
"What's wrong with Rookie?" Wilkes droned, propping his broom up and not bothering to hide his amusement.
"Who cares?" Yaxley stretched his aching muscles in a manner that hinted at his exhaustion. "Can we go?"
"Yes," Lucius hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes, go."
Four of them turned eagerly and headed off toward the locker room. Rodolphus lingered, waiting for his friend. "Are we bringing the kid?"
"No. He'll come around." Lucius shifted his broom to his shoulder.
"You might consider keeping him on. He can build endurance," Rodolphus suggested mildly as they followed the path the others had taken.
"I'll see if I can find anyone better. If not, I suppose I won't really have a choice."
"Well, everything else is looking well enough this year. The Cup's ours Lucius, I know it."
"Sort of how you knew you weren't going to get a 'D' in potions last semester?"
Rodolphus scowled. "When am I ever going to use potions, anyway? Besides, I was... distracted."
"Of course you were distracted, fucking Bellatrix in your every spare moment. This year, there are going to be more training hours, and I swear, I you skip a single one, and I find out it's because of that Black-"
"Calm down, Malfoy! I'll be here, alright?" However, he grinned widely. "But if you had any idea what she's like-"
"I'm sure I can imagine," he returned dryly.
"Probably can. She and Francesca are friends, they probably share... techniques."
Lucius rolled his eyes again. "You know, some people would try to deny the fact that their significant others were raging whores."
"Some people are hypocrites," Rodolphus replied with a shrug. "And I wouldn't trade Bella for the world."
Lucius merely grunted in reply. It was no secret that Rodolphus was entirely taken with Bellatrix despite her reputation, but privately, Lucius knew he did not feel the same devotion to his own Francesca. It hardly mattered; he would almost certainly marry her, and it would be a good match on paper. That was all that was important in the long run, and he found her enjoyable most of the time. When she wasn't speaking.
They entered the locker area and Rodolphus shucked his equipment lazily aside and vanished into the showers. Lucius sat the small desk allotted to captains, shuffling through parchment paper, and withdrawing a quill and ink. He sighed heavily, and began to edit the careful plans he'd set up for the team. It was unfortunate that he'd need to choose a new seeker, and it meant his beaters would need to work harder. Rookwood had been quite adept at dodging bludgers, but he couldn't count on his replacement to have the same ability. He ducked his head, and began to write.
"Oi, Malfoy, you still not done yet?" Rodolphus appeared a while later, dripping wet, and a towel wrapped around his waist. "Still working? For Merlin's sake, take a break already."
Lucius ignored him. With a shrug, the other boy headed back to dry off. When he came back, fully clothed, his friend was still exacting plans. Shaking his head, Rodolphus opened the door, and grinned widely. Two young women were waiting outside, chatting idly, and the taller of the two smiled back.
"Hey, Bella," he reached out to grab her by the waist, and buried his face in her neck. She laughed, grabbing a fistful of his thick hair, still damp from the showers.
"You're wet!" she exclaimed, and Rodolphus growled playfully.
"Play your cards right, sweetheart, and you will be too."
She swatted his arm in mock reprimand, and the pair headed off towards the castle. "He's still inside, Francesca," Rodolphus called over his shoulder. "See if you can get him to loosen up a bit!"
The second girl walked slowly into to locker room. Lucius glanced over at the steady tapping, focusing his gaze on a pair of bright red, patent leather heels. He leaned back, letting his eyes slide leisurely up long, tanned legs, a short skirt that stretched slightly to cover rounded hips and a pert bottom, a tight top that generously revealed deep cleavage, a smooth neck, and finally, he met her light brown eyes.
"Hey Malfoy," she purred throatily. Lucius inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. She strutted forward, tossing her thick, caramel hair over her shoulder. "It's awfully hot in here, and you're still in you uniform." The last part sounded like more of an objection than the first. "Let me help you with that," she offered, positioning herself before him and carefully beginning to unlace his protective gear. Deciding he was done for the day, Lucius allowed her to remove the paraphernalia, but stilled her hand as she reached for his shirt.
"Not in here."
She smirked, slinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. "C'mon, Lucius," she whispered, lavishing open-mouthed kisses over his neck. "Here."
"No." He rose abruptly, and Francesca nearly fell to the floor. She stumbled slightly, attempting to regain her balance, and Lucius sneered at her lack of composure.
"You're such a prick," she snarled, straightening her hair and robes.
"And you have no class," he replied airily. "I'm going to go take a bath; you may join me, if you wish."
"Perhaps I won't," she snapped churlishly. The empty threat did not give him pause as he opened the door out of the lockers.
"Very well, I'm sure I could find someone who would suffice."
Francesca scowled, and hurried after him. "You're so mean to me," she moaned, slipping her her hand into his. Lucius scoffed, and raised her fingers to his lips.
Eyes gleaming wickedly, she slid her hand into the pocket of his robes, scratching his thigh lightly through the thin lining. "Yes, sir." She adopted a submissive tone, and blinked up innocently at him.
So that's the game we're playing today. "I don't know why I tolerate it, though," he drawled slowly as they reached the castle entrance.
"I promise I'll be good," she continued, pressing against his arm so he could feel the swell of her breast. "Please don't be mad." She pushed out her lower lip in a delectable pout.
"I don't know- your willfulness is astounding."
He did not lead them towards the dungeons, but in the direction of the Prefect's bathroom. Francesca grinned; as a mere student, she could not access to spa-like room, and the more often she asked Lucius, the Head Boy, to go there, the less often they went. However, when they did go, it always meant a good time for them both.
"Lemon peel," Lucius muttered the password and shouldered the door open, pulling Francesca in by the waist and burying his face in her neck. She laughed and tangled her fingers in his hair, still damp with sweat, but as her eyes slid luxuriously around the sumptuous room, she stiffened.
"Lucius." With jerk, she nodded her head to the tub, indicating that he should look. When he did, he fought to stifle his irritation.
A girl was already in the bath, up to her neck in thick bubbles. She was regarding the pair with distain, blue eyes narrowed. Lucius sighed.
"Alright, you've had your turn. Go away, we're using the room now."
"No," she snapped, pushing long blonde hair out of her face. "I just got here. You're going to have to wait."
Lucius truly hated Prefects. Especially the fifth year ones.
"As Head Boy," he sneered, "you have to listen to me."
"I do not. Kicking people out of here is not within your rights."
"Then I'll take points from your House until you leave."
"I'm in Slytherin too," she informed him dryly, "but by all means, start deducting for insubordination. I'd love to see you explain that."
He had thought she looked familiar. He studied her elegant nose for a moment, then her haughty chin.
"Black, right?" he asked, drawing more from his memories of Bellatrix than this chit.
"This is a waste of time," Francesca huffed beside him, tired of being ignored. "You don't want to leave, little girl? Fine." Without further ado, she started to undress.
"Stop." Lucius' voice was cold as he placed a hand on her arm. "I think you should go, Francesca," he said casually. "I'll see you in the common room later."
Francesca reddened, staring him with shock and reproach. "Excuse me? You want me to go?"
"I believe that is what I said." He waved a dismissive hand, and she shot him a look of utter loathing before storming off. She would sulk later, but Lucius didn't particularly care. Once she'd slammed the door behind her, he sat down on one of the low, backless benches around the pool.
"What's your name?" he demanded. He usually didn't bother remembering the younger prefects until December at the earliest, but it seemed this one was going to force him to do so now.
"Narcissa," she replied loftily, watching with an eyebrow quirked in distain as he kicked of she shoes and socks, and began to pull off his grass-stained sweater.
"Not a star?" he asked vaguely, remembering all the celestial bodies that her other family members were names after, and rising to unfasten his belt as her disapproval obviously grew.
"No. Not a star," she replied, evidently irritated as he undid the clasp of his trousers. Finally, she turned around with a huff and remained facing the wall as he completed his task and slid into the water. Lucius could not quite stifle his groan of pleasure as the scalding water lapped of his aching muscles, permeating them with a soothing warmth.
"You know, Captain," she spat, whirling back around, "I was enjoying a perfectly lovely soak until you got here. Would it really be so difficult to wait you turn?"
He ignored the question, instead focusing on how unusually long her eyelashes seemed to be. Certainly she used some sort of charm on them, for he could see them from all the way across the steaming bath.
"I had quite a grueling practice," he announced, "and your presence has cheated me of my masseuse. You'd be forgiven, though, if you volunteered to come over and take her place." He threw her a roguish smirk over his shoulder. She blinked at him from across the pool, the heat from the water creating a shimmering veil between them, the thick foam hiding all but her face and long neck. He stared at this neck- usually pale, he guessed, but flushed now, most likely from the hot temperature in the room, but it was easy the fool himself into believing that it was the telltale stain of desire.
He closed his eyes again, and therefore, when a hand slid gently across his back, he was not expecting it.
"Whatever you wish, Captain." Her voice was a silky purr now, mouth close to his ear. Her legs, longer than he would have guessed, wrapped around his waist, supporting herself weightlessly in the water. He sank against the side of the pool, fingers lazily drifting along the smooth calves now folded across his navel.
"Good girl," he murmured in encouragement as her hands began to deftly knead the knots from his aching shoulders.
"You're so tense," she cooed, lips brushing his neck. "You should relax."
"Gladly," he growled, a smirk lighting his features. He moved into a fully standing position and, as though reading his mind, she slid around his body so they were face to face, not breaking the lock of her legs. He let his hands dip beneath the water, sliding along her waist and hips. She pressed against him, and the slick of her bare flesh on his caused him to groan. He dipped his head to kiss those full, seductively smiling lips-
"...incredibly rude of you to even ask. Because obviously it wasn't bad enough that you... Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"
"No," Lucius snarled, lifting his head and turning to glare at her. She narrowed her eyes and stared back at him willfully from across the tub. "And if you're quite finished ranting, will you leave?"
Evidently surrendering all hope that she might bathe in peace, Narcissa nodded. "Close your eyes, please."
Scowling, Lucius shut them. Almost. By keeping them slitted, he could still make out her head, outlined above the bubbles.
"No. Please cover them with your hand until I am out and dressed."
Fuming, he obeyed. He heard gentle splashing as she climbed out, and the stir of fabric as she pulled her robes on.
Lucius pictured every moment of it in detail.
By the time she announced that she was finished, he felt like banging his head on the tile. This was utterly absurd. He was Lucius Malfoy- he had a perfectly beautiful and willing girlfriend of his own, thank you very much, and had no reason to feel even the slightest attraction to the skinny blonde, let alone fantasize about her.
"If you see Francesca in the Common Room," he told Narcissa as she headed for the door, "tell her I'm waiting for her."