Fic: Letters From Malfoy Manor (Lucius/Remus), (Part 1/3)
Title: Letters From Malfoy Manor
Author/Artist: youcantseeus
Pairing(s): Lucius/Remus, Remus/OMC, past Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 24,600 total (3 parts)
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Abuse, whipping, master-servant relationship, dubious consent, orgasm denial, mild child abuse/neglect of a non-sexual nature.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Whew. This ended up being much longer than I thought it would be, but I finished it in the end! Originally written for hprarefest 2014. Thanks so much to my beta, R.
Summary: In 1985, Remus J. Lupin took a job as a personal valet to Lucius Malfoy. He wrote to his werewolf lover about his experiences.
Selection from The Collected Letters of Remus J. Lupin, Volume I, Part 5
Robert Lupin, Editor
Copyright 2067, 2082
Howl Village Publications
Letters From Malfoy Manor
Dear Lester,
I know that after my last letter, you must be waiting with dread to hear from me again, but you needn’t worry yourself. It turns out that fortune does occasionally smile on werewolves. This time, it smiled on me in the form of an advertisement in the Daily Prophet by one Lucius A. Malfoy. I was spending the night under that bridge near Knockturn Alley - the one that my friend James Potter once told me was frequented by all manner of perverts, drug dealers, and Dark Arts purveyors. I can picture you rolling your eyes at this sort of statement and saying Aye, and werewolves and vampires as well. I think I love you for those little acts of rebellion that I could never manage. But I can’t help loving James as well. He was always a true friend to me and even three years after everything happened, I can’t manage to think of him as dead. Don’t roll your eyes.
As I said, I was sleeping under the Knockturn Alley bridge. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant. The weather was unseasonably warm in London and some chaps had started a fire in a rubbish barrel. Our old vampire friends Vel and Parker were there, so it almost felt like old times. I remembered being holed up with them and you and Mary and Carl in that little shit hole of an apartment in Manchester during the war. It wasn’t much nicer than the Knockturn Alley Bridge, if I remember correctly. Anyway, Vel gave me half a cheeseburger that she’d pilfered from a Muggle fast food establishment and a three day old copy of the Daily Prophet that she’d got from a rubbish bin.
Of course, I immediately searched the paper for jobs and I soon stumbled across Lucius Malfoy’s advertisement for a personal valet. The salary was clearly stated in the ad and it was easily three times what any other wizard in Britain would have paid for similar services. If you are wondering why this is, it’s because it’s Lucius Malfoy. I know that you’re indifferent to wizarding politics and high society and all such nonsense, but Lucius Malfoy is an incredibly wealthy, incredibly well-connected wizard who was a known Death Eater. Being a known Death Eater wouldn’t work to his advantage these days.
Anyway, I inquired about the position the next day and with remarkable swiftness, Lucius agreed to interview me that very evening. I Apparated directly to Wiltshire, about two miles away from Malfoy Manor -- as close as the Anti-Apparation wards would allow me to get. I walked along a long, limestone path to the Manor. If you've never seen one of these old, wizarding manor houses up close, then you simply must have the experience at some time, Lester. Malfoy Manor is one of the most famous and in the early evening light, its white limestone glowed with a nascent magic.
I knew enough to go to the servant's entrance and was led through the Manor by a near silent house-elf. The inside of the Manor was all stone floors, ancient tapestries, and mahogany furniture. I was shown to Lucius's study which momentarily caught me off guard. It was huge -- easily bigger than the entire apartment that you and I shared in Howl Village. But the reason I stared was that the ceiling was enchanted to look like a starry night with the moon hanging full in the sky. It was so realistic that I almost panicked. It was a powerful bit of magic -- I've only ever seen that sort of thing at Hogwarts.
I was so enthralled with the house that I almost didn't see Lucius Malfoy standing near the window with his hands clasped behind his back -- but once I saw him, I couldn't take my eyes off him. I only vaguely remembered Lucius from my Hogwarts days as an older Slytherin prefect who was rather disliked by most of the Gryffindors. The man I saw before me was tall, with the stiff, straight-backed posture that I always associated with purebloods. His long, rather pretty blond hair was tied back into a neat ponytail and his mouth was curved into a sneer. As he turned, I saw that his hand gripped a silver cane -- unusual in a man who couldn't be older than thirty.
"Mr. Lupin," Lucius walked over to his desk. "Please sit down." He gestured to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair positioned in front of his desk.
I sat, intensely aware of my wrinkled and patched robes. Lucius was wearing velvet dress robes of the deepest blue with fine leather boots that I just knew were dragon-hide. His velvet hair tie probably cost more than everything I was wearing.
"I apologize for my appearance. It was raining." There had been a bit of a mist in the air as I walked up the path to the Manor.
Lucius looked me over, his mouth curving upward. "I see."
I flushed, feeling lower than dirt. Lucius took out a crisp parchment that I recognized as my CV. "Perhaps I should apologize as well, Lupin. For the late hour of this interview. I am a very busy man and servants are supposed to be accommodating, wouldn't you agree?"
He smirked and I dunked my head. "Yes, sir," I said, knowing instinctively that he'd want me to call him "sir."
"Good." He smoothed out my CV. "Now. You're interested in being my valet. Can you tell why you think you'd be a good fit for the position?"
I was interested in the position because Lucius was paying three times what most wizards paid their manservants. I suspected this was because no one wanted to work for a man who had been rumored to be in Voldemort's inner circle. But of course I didn't say any of this.
"Yes, sir," I said. "I've worked as a servant in the past and I find that it suits me. I'm dedicated, hard-working, and well-educated. I've never been a personal valet before, but I'm a fast learner and I'm sure that I could easily pick up whatever you needed me to learn."
Yes, I can talk bullshit with the best of them, Lester.
Lucius snorted, but I could tell that he was interested. "You are rather well-spoken for one of your class. I like that in a manservant. Your CV states that you finished Hogwarts?"
"Yes, sir."
"And how many N.E.W.T.s did you achieve?"
"Six."
Lucius's eyebrows shot up and I knew why. Most men with six N.E.W.T.s wouldn't be seeking employment as domestic servants. My circumstances are rather unusual, after all. "What subjects?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and History of Magic," I said.
Lucius's eyebrows went even higher. "Not a particularly easy course load."
"No. I've never done things the easy way." I'd once thought that attaining as many N.E.W.T.s as possible would help me find decent employment after Hogwarts.
"It's a shame you didn't take Potions, though," Lucius said. "It's always a useful subject. Which subject was your best?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts. I scored highest in our year at it."
Lucius chuckled and stroked the head of his cane. "Yes it's a ... fascinating subject, isn't it? Tell me, Lupin, are you a devotee of the Dark Arts or are you interested purely in the Defense side?"
I managed a polite smile. "I'm mostly interested in the Defense side."
"A shame. I imagine Severus was incensed that you scored highest in Defense."
I glanced at him sharply. I hadn't thought he'd remember me well enough to know that I was in the same year as a rather unpleasant boy named Severus Snape.
Lucius sensed my surprise. "Yes, I remember you. You're that little boy who used to run around with Sirius Black and James Potter all the time."
I stiffened. You know I don't like to think of those days anymore because everything with Sirius and James ended so badly. "I'm not a little boy."
"No, no," Lucius said, looking me over in a way that I didn't exactly like. "You're all grown up now."
I reminded myself that Lucius was offering to pay three times what I would have earned with any other wizarding family.
Lucius looked back down at my CV. "I see that you worked as tutor for the Hargreaves' children. Their youngest isn't at Hogwarts yet. Why did you quit working for them?"
"Mrs. Hargreave preferred a governess for her daughter," I lied. I could hardly tell him that the Hargreaves had begun to suspect my lycanthropy and I had quit before they could confirm their suspicions.
"Hm," Lucius sniffed. "And you worked as a butler for Albert Bulstrode? Bit of glorified term for that family. I'm surprised that they could afford to employ any human servants."
"Yes, sir," I said. "Just between us, that's why Mr. Bulstrode decided to let me go. Financial concerns." I silently thanked Lucius for providing me with another believable excuse for my frequent shifts in employment.
Lucius smiled, looking positively gleeful. "I'll bet you were his only servant."
"His only human one, sir," I said. "Mr. Bulstrode owned three house-elves."
Lucius put my CV down on his desk and looked at me, keenly. "What's your blood status?"
"I'm a half-blood." I wasn't surprised by the question. Everyone knows that the Malfoys care about such things. Besides, it’s not the first time I've been asked such a question during a job interview. I also knew that my half-blood status wouldn't work against me. Half-bloods are preferred for jobs as servants, Lester. Men like Lucius Malfoy would say that purebloods shouldn't lower themselves with such work, but they would balk at the idea of having Muggleborns in their homes.
"Who is your nearest Muggle ancestor?"
"My mother." I decided that if Lucius said anything impolite about my mother, I would get up and leave, no matter how much he was offering to pay.
But Lucius merely sniffed, his lip curling slightly. I could practically hear his thoughts -- that I was filthy, born of a Muggle, even if not technically a Muggleborn. But he didn't say anything about my mother. "I trust you can provide documentation showing your wizarding ancestry?" he asked.
"Of course." I was prepared, having been asked to provide such documentation for some of my other jobs. I found it rather depressing that Lucius hadn't asked for proof of my N.E.W.T. results or references from my previous employers, but he did ask me to prove that my father was a wizard. I reached into my satchel and pulled out my birth certificate, my father's birth certificate, and my father's lineage papers, so kindly provided by the Ministry of Magic.
"Your father's parents were from France?" Lucius asked, looking over the parchments.
"Yes. They're considered a rather old, pureblood family there. Though there aren't many of them left."
Lucius sighed. "It's a shame how so many of the old families have diluted their bloodlines."
Diluted them by producing half-bloods like me, he meant.
"Do you maintain a relationship with your father's family or did they disown him when he married your mother?"
The question may have been rude, but Lucius asked it without any apparent rancor. It was quite common for pureblood families to do such things, so I supposed it was a reasonable enough inquiry.
"They didn't disown him for marrying my mother. But I don't have a relationship with them." Have I ever told you that I haven’t seen my grandparents since I was five years old, Lester? After I was bitten, they told my father that he should have me put down like an animal. He never spoke to them again.
"That's a shame," Lucius said, fiddling with that damn cane again. "Contacts are such useful things."
"Yes. They are."
Lucius handed me back my father's lineage papers. "This seems in order. You know ... you and your friends had a bit of reputation for trouble-making at Hogwarts. I knew about it and I was much older than you. I trust that you've left such youthful follies in the past?"
"Of course." I wanted to tell him that fighting in a war and losing everyone who was dear to you would do that to a person. I wondered if Lucius knew that I had been in the Order of the Phoenix. I wondered if he cared. I knew he was a Death Eater, but I also suspected that he was the sort of person who always put himself first.
"I suspect that your friends got you into trouble a good deal in those days," Lucius said.
I wished to hell that he would stop talking about my friends because two of them were dead and one of them was in Azkaban for killing the other two. I briefly consoled myself by picturing how many times James Potter would have hexed Lucius or punched him in the face had he been present for this interview. "They did," I said. "But I got into some trouble all on my own as well."
"Don't we all," Lucius said, with a smile. For some reason, I found his smiles more unnerving than his frowns. He looked me over thoughtfully. "Do you know what quality is most important in a manservant, Lupin?"
I shrugged. "Enlighten me."
"Discretion."
I sucked in a breath, wondering what secrets Lucius needed kept. "I'm very good at keeping secrets." Of course, I'd already proved this statement wrong by divulging sensitive information about Bulstrode, but Lucius wouldn't see it that way. Men like him see themselves as so superior to almost every other living being that they never consider that you could betray them.
Lucius leered at me. "I suspect you are. When can you start?"
I blinked, hardly believing my ears. I had given up any real hope of him actually hiring me near the beginning of the interview. "Immediately.
Tomorrow." My voice sounded shaky, the prospect of a bed and warm meal making me feel weak.
Lucius nodded. "Very well. I think I may find some use for you, Lupin. Your Hogwarts education undoubtedly means that you're literate and I am in desperate need of someone who can handle my correspondence. That will be a big part of the job. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes," I said, quickly, unable to believe my luck. I hadn't imagined Lucius would set me to doing anything as dignified as writing letters.
"Very good," Lucius said. "You'll live in a room in the Manor, of course. You may bring your personal belongings tomorrow morning. I can provide house-elves to help you move if you like."
"That won't be necessary, sir," I said. My current possessions consist of a few ragged clothes and personal items thrown into a knapsack.
Lucius had taken out a small book which I realized was a day planner. "I can spare some time around 4 p.m. tomorrow afternoon to further explain your duties. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "Sir ..." I had nearly forgotten to tell him the most vital piece of information.
"Yes?"
"I must have several days off every month. It's a family thing."
Lucius sighed. "We'll get to that tomorrow, Lupin," he said. "Yes, of course you can have time off. All my human servants get 30 days per year. You may use your days in any way you like, as long as you inform me at least two weeks in advance. In addition, you can use up to 10 additional days for sickness. You will not be paid for any days you do not work. Is that acceptable?"
I quickly did the arithmetic in my head. Thirty days would give me two to three days per month for the moons with the possibility of using some of my sick days if the moons were more taxing than I thought they'd be. It would probably be enough. "Yes," I said.
"Excellent. Bring your things tomorrow morning. Make sure you use the servants' entrance."
Lester, I am employed! It's amazing how quickly fortunes can change. Write to me soon and let me know how things are going for you in New Zealand. Are you settling in well enough?
Yours,
R.L.
*
Dear Lester,
I know that I just wrote you a letter, but I simply must write again. Please stop fretting over your own writing. It doesn't matter to me if you are "unlettered" as you put it, I'm always happy to hear from you. I know that you haven't had my advantages when it comes to education.
Yesterday morning I brought my things around to the Manor. It was all slightly less intimidating by daylight. The Manor was still huge and white, but it no longer glowed and it seemed less magical somehow. I was so eager to have a real bed to sleep in, that I arrived at the first hint of dawn, my knapsack slung heavily over my back. I was shown to my room by a different house-elf than the one I'd seen earlier.
The room itself was nothing special -- it was small for the Manor, but bigger than the last bedroom I'd slept in. It contained a bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a chest of drawers. A small bathroom with a shower was attached. Everything was clean and serviceable, but rather plain. To me, it looked like heaven. My meager possessions only filled two drawers in my dresser.
Rather to my surprise, my room was on the second floor of the Manor with an excellent view of the grounds. By the morning light I could see the rambling rose garden, the fine cobblestone pathways, and the numerous white peacocks that ran roughshod over everything. In the distance I could just make out what I thought were stables. When I looked in the other direction, I could see a perfectly maintained Quidditch pitch. Yes, Lester, the Malfoys actually have their own Quidditch pitch.
Deep blue robes had been laid out on my bed. I quickly recognized them as a servant's uniform, and put them on over my Muggle clothing. In the closet, I found two more sets of blue robes as well as some smart, black boots. I was done well before four o'clock, when I was supposed to meet with Lucius, but I stayed in my room, not knowing whether or not Lucius would want me wandering about the house by myself.
At a quarter till four, a house-elf Apparated into my room and informed me that he would be showing me to “Master Lucius's” chambers. This time, I was not taken to Lucius's office, but rather to a lavish sitting room where Lucius lounged on a sofa, drinking something that looked cool and sweet out of a long glass. There were several doors in this room, one of which was open enough that I could view what I presumed was Lucius's bedroom. I was surprised to learn how close my room was to Lucius's chambers as I'd assumed that servant's quarters would be in a different part of the house.
Lucius put his drink down on a tray held by a nearby house-elf with a sigh. "Ah, Lupin. You do clean up nice."
"Thank you, sir."
"So. We shall begin with the house-elves.” Lucius snapped his fingers and three more house-elves immediately joined the one holding his drink. Two of the elves appeared to be elderly, one was young-ish, and the fourth was little more than a child. I thought that all four were male, though it can be difficult to tell with house-elves. "I own thirty-seven house-elves, not counting juveniles."
I looked at the four elves before me again. I’ve never heard of a single family owning thirty-seven house-elves before. What did one even do with that many? "Impressive, sir."
"I know," Lucius said. "These two are Corny and Cap," he gestured at the two older elves. "They are brothers. And this one is Dobby." He gestured at the third elf. "These three serve my person exclusively. You will be in charge of them, though at the moment they know their jobs better than you do. I arise every morning at 5 a.m. sharp at which point I expect my bath to be drawn, my robes to be pressed, my boots to be shined and placed at the foot of my bed, and my newspaper and cup of espresso to be placed on a tray at my bedside. The elves will perform all these tasks, but you will supervise them. You will likely have to arise at around 4 a.m. to do so. If anything goes wrong, you are responsible as well as the offending elf. Is that clear?"
He looked at the house-elves rather more severely than myself when he said this. "Yes, sir," I said.
"Wonderful. I take breakfast in my sitting room at 6 a.m. except for Sundays when I eat breakfast with my family in the dining hall at 8 a.m. On those days when I take breakfast in the sitting room, an elf will come from the kitchens with my breakfast tray. I expect you to inspect the tray to make sure the food on it is acceptable. Corny will help you learn what is acceptable."
The old elf bowed so low that his nose nearly touched the ground. "Corny would be honored, Master."
Lucius ignored him. "I spend the hours of 7 a.m. until 10 a.m. on weekdays answering my correspondence. You will assist me in this task. Depending on the amount of correspondence involved, I may have you continue at this task even if I have moved on to something else. On weekends, I typically spend the hours of 7 a.m. until 10 a.m. going over the grounds. I breed magical peacocks, you know."
"I'd noticed, sir."
I could already see that Lucius definitely wasn't a spontaneous sort of fellow. How was I ever going to keep his schedule straight?
"Do you have any questions, thus far?" Lucius asked.
"Just one. You didn't introduce me to this elf," I nodded at the child house-elf who was now rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"This is Knob," Lucius said, with a wave of his hand. "He's yours."
I blinked at Lucius. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, I don't mean literally , of course. But he is assigned to you. He's a juvenile who I want to train to be my son's personal servant when he's a little older, so I'm going to have him practice on you. He'll draw your baths, iron your clothes, fetch your meals and do anything else you need him to do. He should come when you call him, no matter where you are."
"Oh." I wasn't sure that I was comfortable with the idea of having a house-elf at my beck and call. A vivid memory of Sirius Black at fourteen years old assaulted me, how he'd call out the name of one of his family's house-elves -- Nargle or Jelly or Kreacher, usually -- and make a ridiculous demand for something that the elf was clearly forbidden to provide him such as cigarettes or Firewhiskey or Muggle wank magazines. He'd watch as the elf paled and shook and began to bang its head against the furniture then he'd dismiss it with a lazy wave of his hand saying: Oh, what good are you, anyway?
Perhaps I should have known that Sirius was a bad person.
"You may discipline him as well," Lucius was saying with a sharp look at Knob who had stopped bouncing and was now regarding me with a wary expression. "Actually, you may discipline all four of them once you learn the job sufficiently well. I use physical discipline with my house-elves and you may as well."
I swallowed, not daring to look at the elves in question.
"You may ask any house-elf in the Manor for assistance and they should give it, provided that it doesn't interfere with a command given by myself, my family, or one of the other human servants."
"Er ... how many human servants are there, sir?" I asked.
"Six, counting you," Lucius said. "Mervin Melone is my butler. I also employ a chef, a groundskeeper, a nanny, and a maid. Melone is your superior and you are to see him about receiving your payment every month." Lucius paused and licked his lips before continuing. "My wife's name is Narcissa and my son is Draco. You are to obey any command that Narcissa gives you that does not directly conflict with your duties to me. But remember that you are my personal valet. Technically, you should obey Draco as well, but use some discretion ... he's only four years old and is rather spoiled."
"Of course, sir." It was difficult to picture Lucius Malfoy with a child.
Lucius continued to regale me with the minutiae of his daily schedule for a good hour. I was sure I'd forget half of it before the day was done, but I supposed I could ask the house-elves for advice provided that Lucius hadn't rendered them so terrified of me as to make conversation impossible.
When he finally finished telling me about my many duties, he looked me over in a sharp, cruel way. "I'll be needing your wand, Lupin."
I blinked at him, in askance. "My -- my wand?"
"Yes. In order to make it a servant's wand. I'll give it right back."
I hesitated. I'd heard of such things before, but I'd never worked for a family that required it. The creation of servile wands is considered by many to be old-fashioned at best and barbaric at worst. A wizard's wand is a very personal item and can become closely tied to his magic over a period of years. Asking to use another wizard's wand for anything other than a dire need is considered a major faux pas in many circles. If I allowed Lucius to make my wand into a servant's wand then he'd become its master just as much as I was. He'd be able to use the wand as if it were his own and I wouldn't be able to use the wand against him, even in self-defense.
I didn't like it, especially considering Lucius's history, but I wasn't about to leave. I handed over the wand.
Lucius smiled and took out his own wand. He muttered a few words and dark bands shot out his wand and encircled mine. I knew that what I was seeing was Dark Magic and I tried not to care. The magic faded and Lucius pocketed his own wand, but continued to stroke mine in a rather suggestive manner.
"Are you finished, sir?" I finally asked, in a sharper voice than a servant should use.
"Yes," Lucius said, but he didn't hand back the wand. "Wands are such unique things, wouldn't you agree, Lupin?"
"Yes." I watched as he twirled my wand in his hand.
"This is a fine one." He looked down at my wand. "An Ollivander's product?"
"Of course."
"Cypress," Lucius commented. "Ten inches?"
"Ten and one-quarter. With a unicorn hair core."
"Hm," Lucius said. "Have you had it since you were eleven?"
"Yes."
"It knows you well, then. And it will come to know me well."
He handed me back my wand. I couldn't look him in the eye.
Don't worry about me, Lester. I can handle Lucius Malfoy well enough.
Yours,
R.L.
*
Dear Lester,
My first days at Malfoy Manor have proved even more surreal than I expected.
My first official morning on the job, I was awoken at promptly 4 a.m. by a high voice that seemed to fill the whole room.
"Knob is very sorry, Mr. Lupin," the voice said. "But you is needing to get out of bed if you wants to make it to Master Lucius's chambers on time."
I blinked and sat up, blearily. I'd never been a naturally early riser and 4 a.m. was an ungodly hour as far as I was concerned. I wanted to tell Knob to wake me in another ten minutes, but that seemed wrong, somehow -- to use another living being like a Muggle alarm clock. Instead, I rolled out of bed, my feet sliding into comfortable woolen slippers that I was quite sure I'd never owned. I looked down at them in confusion.
"Knob is laying out Mr. Lupin's slippers like a good house-elf," Knob squeaked. His voice really was extraordinarily high in pitch. I'd never met a child house-elf before, but I supposed that most of them probably shared that characteristic.
"Er ... yes, very nice," I said. "Thank you, Knob."
Knob's huge eyes became even larger. "Mr. Lupin is thanking Knob. But Knob is not worthy, Knob is not ..."
"Did you fetch my breakfast?" I interrupted. I knew that Knob had -- I could smell it -- but I wanted to distract the elf from his line of thought before he started harming himself as I knew elves from nasty families were wont to do.
The elf screeched, loudly. "Oh, yes, Mr. Lupin. And Knob will serve you if you like."
"No time," I said. I spotted a glass tray on my bedside table and lifted the lid to reveal a breakfast of toast and jam with poached eggs.
"Is it good, Mr. Lupin?" Knob asked, anxiously. "I can bring something different, if Mr. Lupin requires it."
"No, it's fine." It was too early to eat much anyway.
By the time I'd scarfed down my breakfast, got dressed, and made it back to Lucius's bedroom, it was nearly time for Lucius to rise. I opened the door to Lucius's bedroom to find his elves moving about their various assigned tasks with an incredible amount of silence. I decided that in the future, I'd use muffling spells so that I too could move more silently.
I stood near the doorway, unsure of what to do with myself because the elves all seemed to know what they were doing and Lucius had only told me that I was supposed to "supervise" them. Finally, the one named Dobby looked up and gasped. "It's 5:02," he said, looking over at me and shaking.
"Uh," I said.
"You is supposed to wake Master Lucius up, Mr. Lupin," Dobby said.
"Oh -- uh, right," I said. I approached Lucius's bed, feeling faintly ridiculous. His long hair fanned around his head like a white-blond flag. For the first time, I noticed how handsome and young his face looked; how he had a perfectly shaped mouth and the type of high cheek bones that I've always found so attractive in men. His attractiveness is normally muted by his awful personality, Lester.
"Mr. Malfoy," I said in a firm voice. "It's time to wake up." He was wearing a mask over his eyes. At the sound of my voice, he immediately removed the mask, opened his eyes and said; "It's 5:03, Lupin. Tomorrow you'll wake me at 5 a.m. sharp."
I blinked. "Yes, sir."
He sat up, not looking one bit sleepy. I wondered if he'd been awake the whole time. "And don't ever call me Mr. Malfoy. You may call me Lord Malfoy or sir. Or master if you're so inclined." He smirked.
"Of course, sir. I apologize." I'd already guessed as much, I'd just been caught off guard by the situation.
It was a Sunday, meaning it was the one day of the week when Lucius ate breakfast with his family. I suspected that it was for this reason that Lucius dawdled for over an hour in his bath and then spent another hour reading his newspaper while I hovered nearby, silently, waiting for him to need something. At around 7:15, he arose from his chair and said; "I'll get dressed now, Lupin."
He walked over to his wardrobe where the house elves had hung some completely white robes. He ran his hands over the robes, speculatively. "These are fine. I wear white on Sundays only. Gray on Mondays and Tuesdays. Blue on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Black for Fridays and Saturdays."
The man was obsessive. "Of course, sir."
"Master Malfoy," a croaking voice said behind Lucius. I realized that it was one of the older house-elves -- Cap, I thought. All three of Lucius's elves had been in his quarters this whole time, but they'd been so quiet that I'd forgotten about them.
"Yes?" Lucius asked.
"Mr. Lupin didn't check Master's robes this morning. Mr. Lupin --"
Lucius casually kicked the old elf who doubled over and promptly started wheezing.
"Sir!" I objected.
"If I want a report on Lupin's abilities, I'll ask for it," Lucius said to the elf, ignoring me completely. "Away with the three of you. I'm sick of looking at you."
The three house-elves immediately Disapparated with three loud pops. Lucius turned back to me. "Tomorrow you'll remember to check my robes," he said.
I swallowed and nodded.
Lucius held his arms out from his side. "I'll get dressed now."
I stood there, staring at him like an idiot, before realizing that he meant that I should actually undress him and then put his robes physically on his body as if he were some sort of king.
"Yes, sir," I muttered, taking out my wand.
"Use your hands, Lupin. I don't fancy losing any buttons."
I looked at him, wondering if I should be insulted at the intimation that I didn't know how to perform a simple undressing charm.
"Well, don't be shy," he said with a smirk.
I let out a long breath before grasping the belt to his dressing robe and undoing it. It slid off his shoulders to reveal black silk pajamas with a multitude of buttons. I moved closer and began unbuttoning his pajamas. As I did so, I was very aware of the small distance between us. Even though I'm quite tall, Lucius was taller and he loomed over me as I worked on his buttons.
I stripped him down to his underwear which there was thankfully quite a bit of -- his chest and most of his legs were covered. I slipped the white robe over his head and buttoned it up the back. Lucius surveyed himself in the mirror. I rather thought that white wasn't his color.
"This is satisfactory, Lupin," he said, at last.
Breakfast was noisy. And by "noisy" I mean that Lucius's son Draco, a rather chubby little boy of four years, kept up a constant racket of banging his silverware against the table, demanding sweets loudly from his nanny and his mother, and screaming at the top of his lungs when he was denied anything. At one point, he started throwing oatmeal.
Lucius's wife, Narcissa, was a tall woman with the Black good looks who alternated between trying to appease her son and daintily eating tiny pieces of food, all while ignoring Lucius completely. Lucius, for his part, was able to ignore his son's behavior with an aplomb that I found unnerving. He just sat at the head of the table elegantly eating his eggs while Draco drenched his servants in oatmeal. I stood silently behind Lucius's chair, only moving to serve Lucius.
Toward the end of the meal, Lucius looked over at his wife. "I don't believe you've commented on my new manservant, my dear." He gestured for me to come forward and I reluctantly took two small steps in his direction. "This is Lupin. What do you think of him?"
Narcissa looked up, slowly, her eyes surveying me with utter disdain. "Young," she said.
"Hm?" Lucius asked.
"I think he looks young. Just like the last one. Just like Draco's nanny." She gave Lucius a meaningful look. The nanny in question, who was indeed a young woman with long, yellow hair, stopped in the middle of wiping oatmeal from Draco's cheek, blushed, and looked down. I wondered what I was missing.
"Oh, he is rather young," Lucius said. "But I think he'll suit me well enough. Lupin went to Hogwarts, you know. He would have been a couple of years behind you. He was friends with your cousin Sirius, I believe."
I sucked in a breath. I hadn't heard Sirius's name mentioned so casually in several years.
Narcissa's cold eyes raked over me once again before turning back to Lucius. "I know who he is," she said in a withering tone of voice.
That was the end of the conversation.
After breakfast, Lucius set me to answering a seemingly unending pile of mail, most of which had to do with various unsavory political causes and charities. Lucius loomed over me the entire time, critiquing my handwriting. Despite not having worked very hard, I was completely wrung out by midday when Lucius left the Manor for a social luncheon.
I sat at a small table near Lucius's desk with my head in my hands, wondering how I was going to be able to stand this job, these people. I must have stayed that way for about fifteen minutes until I heard a noise at the door. I looked up to see Draco Malfoy regarding me, his little head tilted sideways, a toy dragon clutched in one hand and a toy wand in the other.
"Uh ... hello," I said.
"Where's my Daddy?" Draco asked.
"He had to go out."
"Where?"
"To lunch."
Draco's lower lip jutted out, dangerously close to crying. "But he promised to play with me today."
"Oh. Well. I expect he'll be back later." I haven’t had much experience with such small children -- the kids I'd tutored were considerably older.
"Bring him back," Draco said, imperiously.
"What?" I asked, with a panicked laugh. "You know I can't do that, Draco."
"Can too. You have to do whatever I say because you're only a servant. And you have to call me Master Draco. Father says so."
He seemed to have a decent grasp of the situation. "I know your Daddy wouldn't want me to interrupt him."
He pointed his wand at me. "Crucio!" he shouted.
I reflexively jumped aside, my heart pounding at the sound of the Unforgiveable Curse. A bolt of bright green paint shot out of Draco's wand and hit my arm. The child ran, giggling, behind a stuffed chair. I swore, softly, as I looked down to see the paint splattered all over the robes Lucius had given me. No doubt I would be blamed if Draco had managed to ruin my servant's robes.
"Master Draco!" a female voice called from the hall.
"He's in here," I said.
Draco's nanny ran in looking flushed and out of sorts. She looked at me and then at Draco hiding behind the chair. "Did he get you, Mr.
Lupin? I'm awful sorry about that."
"He pretended to cast the Cruciatus Curse," I said, thinking that this was information that Draco's caretakers might want to know.
The nanny sighed. "He does that. Knows Avada Kedavra as well, the little bugger does."
My expression must have communicated my dismay, because Draco's nanny hastened to assure me that it was only a toy wand and that Draco could no more cast an Unforgiveable than a Muggle could. I already knew this, of course, and I felt slightly silly as the girl gave me her reassuring little speech.
"Is he going to do it again?" I asked, glancing at the boy who was still hiding behind the chair.
"Who can say? Master Draco, you come out from there right now, you hear?" But she spoke with the air of someone who knew that her command would not be obeyed.
Draco giggled and wormed his way further behind the chair.
"I think he likes you," she said. "He's trying to play with you. If he was scared or angry, he'd be screaming up a storm."
"This means he likes me?" I asked, gesturing to my clothing. She laughed and started to say something when Narcissa Malfoy walked into the room.
"Clara," Narcissa said, in a severe voice. "I've been searching the house for my son. What on earth is he doing in Lucius's office?"
Clara flushed bright red and dropped into a sort of half curtsey. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Draco got away from me. He was probably looking for Master Lucius."
Narcissa looked at her coldly. "I've told you to keep him out of this room. My husband keeps important documents in here."
"Of course, ma'am."
Narcissa bent down to look at Draco behind the chair. "Draco, honey. Come out from there." She spoke in a cooing voice that was so different from the hard voice she'd been using with Clara that I almost laughed in surprise.
"No!" Draco said. "I want to play with Daddy."
It took about ten minutes of cajoling and promises of sweets to get Draco out from behind the chair. When he finally crept out, I expected Narcissa to pick him up bodily and take him to his room, but the Mistress of Malfoy Manor simply handed the child off to Clara and then turned to me. "Mr. Lupin. I wanted a word."
Well, what could I do then but follow her into another one of the Manor's seemingly endless foyers? This one was near the garden and seemed to be made mostly of glass and crystal expensive enough to pay your rent or my rent for a decade. Narcissa sat down in a crystal chair. I expect that she knew how striking she looked against the glass and the flowers.
Have I ever mentioned Narcissa Malfoy's legendary beauty? In our Hogwarts days she had long, black, perfectly curled hair that flowed down her waist. Her eyes were a cool blue and her features finely carved as if from stone. Nowadays, her hair is white-blonde, but her beauty no less striking. Half the wizards and witches in the country claim that Narcissa Malfoy spends thousands of Galleons a year on beauty potions. The other half claim that she's secretly a Metamorphmagus (a talent which runs in her family). I'm rather inclined to think that neither theory is true. Narcissa was born a Black and I've never met a Black who wasn't nice to look at.
Narcissa didn't offer me a seat, but merely looked up at me, as imperious as any queen on her throne. "Mr. Lupin, I have to ask you ... are you sleeping with my husband?"
I must confess that I wasn't expecting her question. The idea that Lucius Malfoy would entertain sexual thoughts about me borders on the ridiculous, wouldn't you agree? Still, as I gazed upon her lovely, slender face, I could see the absolute sincerity in her eyes. As I'm sure you know, there's nothing quite so dangerous to someone of the servant class as a jealous wife.
I looked her in the eye, trying to project gravity and honesty. "No, ma'am."
She arched a delicate, blonde eyebrow. "Do you wish to sleep with my husband?"
I couldn't help but flush under her intense scrutiny. "Of course not, ma'am."
She snorted. "Then I suggest you resign your post here. If you stay, then you'll end up in my husband's bed sooner or later."
I squirmed awkwardly on the spot, making every protestation that I could conceive of. Finally, Narcissa raised a pale hand and I ceased my objections as suddenly as if compelled by magic.
"I love Lucius very much, you understand." I searched her face for some hint of irony, of the bitter, jealous wife, but I didn't find it. I do believe she meant it. "But he does have his vices. You seem like an intelligent man, Lupin. Do you really imagine that Lucius hired you for your skill?"
"I -- he mentioned my education and my experience and --"
"He hired you for your looks and your reputation," she interrupted.
It seemed to me that she was talking nonsense. "My looks? Ma'am, I couldn't hold a candle to you." It was true too. I like to think that I'm not unpleasant to look at, but I'm no Narcissa Malfoy by a long shot.
"True," she said. "But Lucius enjoys variety."
I swallowed. It was an uncomfortable situation for a new servant. If I protested too much, I risked displeasing my new mistress by contradicting her. If I didn't protest enough, then I confirmed her suspicions. "My reputation, ma'am?"
She examined her fingernails with an almost bored air. "Your reputation for taking up with men."
You can imagine how aghast I was. Of course you and I both know that I do occasionally take up with men, but I didn't think I had a reputation for it. Certainly not the sort of reputation that would have reached the ears of Narcissa Malfoy. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, ma'am."
She didn't believe me for an instant. "So you and Sirius Black weren't lovers?"
She was regarding me with a keen, knowing look, twisting a rope of flawless emeralds and pearls idly around her finger. I couldn't retain my distant, disdainful attitude with Sirius lingering between us. Even now, just the mention of his name is enough to unnerve me.
"Oh come now, Lupin," she said. "Why do you think Albert Bulstrode fired you? Not that Bulstrode would object to a bit of buggery himself -- did he ever proposition you?"
Mutely, I shook my head.
"Ah, well. But a convicted mass murderer -- it does leave a certain sour taste in one's mouth, wouldn't you agree?"
I didn't say anything -- I was too afraid that I'd snap at her or do something else to risk my employment. I've always assumed that Bulstrode fired me because he suspected that I was a werewolf, but you've always said that I burn through jobs remarkably quickly even for one of our kind. I guess we now know why! Sirius Black.
I know you'll despise me for saying it, but I still can't hate him. No matter how many ways he's hurt me, I can't hate him. I try every day, but I was so very in love with him. Besides, it's always been difficult for me to hate things that aren't myself.
But back to Narcissa Malfoy. I stood there, in that little glass room, watching her twist that damn string of emeralds that probably cost more than I was worth around her little finger. "I need this job, ma'am."
I didn't think it was possible for her to look any colder, but her face became so much stonier, that I wondered if the Metamorphmagus rumors were true after all. "I see. And are you a prostitute, Mr. Lupin?"
Naturally, I told her that I wasn't.
"Good. I didn't take you for one. But my husband's will is strong."
"I have no designs on your husband, ma'am."
She gave a long-suffering sigh, almost of ennui. I know that you've probably never had a Black condescend to you before, but it's an experience that everyone should have at least once in his miserable life. The superiority! The aloofness! The pure snobbery! Every pureblood family in England has attempted to imitate the upturned nose, tilted chin, and snarl of disdain that Narcissa Malfoy showed me that afternoon, but none of them can do it quite like a Black. Even Lucius Malfoy can't manage it.
"Do you have any diseases?" she asked, after a long pause.
I blinked, believing that she'd somehow sniffed out my lycanthropy. "Diseases, ma'am?"
"Venereal diseases, Lupin," she said, impatiently. "Goodness knows that the last thing we need."
"No! But I'm not going to --"
"Yes, yes, you're a paragon of virtue, I'm sure." She waved a hand in dismissal.
You must promise that you won't hate me if I end up sleeping with him. I don't want to, of course, but Malfoy Manor is a good deal better than the Knockturn Alley bridge, however bright a face I tried to put on it in my previous letters.
Yours,
R.L.
P.S.
Lucius agreed to an advance on my first paycheck! The Malfoys are many things, most of them unpleasant, but no one would ever call them cheap. I'm enclosing a few Galleons for you. Don't object! God knows you've lent me enough money over the years. I hate thinking of you all alone in New Zealand with barely a Galleon to your name.
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Part 2