I own no but my own people.

"Lucius!" Bellatrix shouted up the stairs, turning every light in the house on with a flick of her wand. "Lucius come down here right now!"

Lucius stumbled out of his bedroom, glaring down at Bellatrix, his usually luscious blond hair disheveled, wearing nothing but a pair of tightie whiteys.

"It's three a clock in the morning!" he growled. "What on earth couldn't wait until morning?"

"I need five thousand galleons without question. Come on, come on. Narcissa told me you sleep with your wallet."

Lucius looked at her for a moment. "Bellatrix," he said in total and complete seriousness. "Have you lost your mind? Has Azkaban really screwed you up this much?"

Bellatrix glared up at him before she began descending up the stairs.

"Azkaban did not make me insane."

"Are you sure?"

"I wasn't talking to you," she snapped. "But if you must know, I need it for the dark lords mission."

"And what mission would require five thousand galleons of my own money when he has all the money in the world?"

Bellatrix sighed as she walked over to him. "Because, Lucius. You can't ask someone to give you money for their own Christmas gift."

Lucius nodded in understanding. "Ahh, I see. And why is giving the Dark Lord a Christmas gift, one that costs five thousand galleons of mine none the less, needed for his mission?"

"Because!" she said as if that one word solved everything. "When people get gifts, people are happy. When people are happy, they work and plan better. So ergo, when the dark lord receives my present, he'll be happy and his plans to kill Harry Potter will go much better."

"And you want to suck up for him and hope that by seeing you put in this much effort for his gift, he'll return his feelings you have for him."

"Potato, patato. But will you give me some money? Please?"

"Why don't you use your own money?"

"Because I don't have any money!" she whined, meanwhile her three hundred galleon purse slung over her shoulder.

"Bellatrix... you're the heir to the richest and wealthiest wizarding family in the world... and you're telling me you're broke?"

"Uh huh."

"What the hell do you spend all your money on?"

"Novelty socks."

Lucius blinked a few times before he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bellatrix. I won't give you that much money. You forgot I have my own family to buy for. Now good night."

Bellatrix flung herself to the floor and grabbed a hold of his leg.

"Please!" she shrieked as sobbed hysterically at his feet. "I need this, Lucius! I'm your favorite sister in law! You can't deny me this, please!"

"Get off me, Bellatrix!" he shouted, shaking his leg, but she had him in an iron clad hold.

"You don't know what it's like to have a love who doesn't love you back! I can't survive without him! This gift is the only thing that will work!"

Lucius sighed before he threw up his hands in defeat.

"Fine! I'll give you the money."

Bellatrix perked up at once, and the sobbing stopped.

"Really? Thank you, Lucius! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She hugged his bare leg and squealed in delight. "Hey, do you shave your legs?"

"On one condition," he told her as he smirked down at her. She released her hold and stood up; narrowing her eyes in suspicion.


Lucius smirk grew bigger. "I get to help pick it out and you put my name on it as well."

"No! It was my decision to buy him the gift, and I get the credit!"

"No joint gift... no money."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes once more before she gave one quick nod.

"Excellent!" Lucius said as he clapped his hands together joyfully. "We'll go shopping in the morning."

"Whatever," she grumbled descending down the stairs. She was about to leave their house before she turned back, smiling sweetly at him. "Oh and Lucius. Make sure you don't wear something form fitting. Those love handles are getting a bit excessive."

She waved merrily before she pulled out her wand and disapparated.

Lucius looked down at himself and frowned.

"I do not have love handles," he mumbled miserably to himself. But he decided, as he went back to bed, that he would put skim milk in his cereal tomorrow.

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