Chapter 28 - Suicide

2 0 0

∞ 28 ∞


It was nearly 1 am. Lucius had been lying in bed awake for almost two hours. He had a bit of a head ache and decided to go down to the pool for a swim. Ro was on private watch that night and he convinced the Luthomequis to let him have some space to himself.

The water was nice and made his head feel a little better, but he was out of shape; after just a few laps, he needed to rest. He sat on the side with his feet in the water, thinking about the mess he was in: So many in his world thought he was a bad Wizard and he was facing the possibility of having his soul sucked out and rotting in prison. He felt like a lamb waiting for slaughter! And even if they did not send him down, then what? HE thought he was a bad Wizard! Every day was a drudgery – carrying that guilt. No matter how he wished and imagined it, he could not bring the dead back. His son, who once looked up to him, detested him. His wife too was dead (and everyone expected him to take a new one –just like that– whether he wanted the Witch or not)... Perhaps he should just let Draco choose whomever he favoured and go along with it.

He really did not have much to stay alive for... He couldn't kill himself because Draco was so incompetent with matters of gold, he'd surely ruin the family... On the other hand Draco could learn soon enough and there were others who could step forward to help him – his cousins for example, who had more reasons to live for. He could probably manage it. He could slow his breathing down, control his heartbeat, just drift off. It would be painless and clean.

He could practise – just to see if he could get his heart rate down. Just to see what it felt like. Lucius took his rings off and put them in his slippers. He took his feet out of the water and lay back on the hard, stone paving and looked up at the high, arched ceiling. He breathed in and out rhythmically, measuring his breaths.

{ In... Out... }

{ In...... Out...... }

{ In............ Out............ }

{ In................. Out................ }


Lucius entered the library, having just come from the downstairs powder room. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and gums, waiting for the Euphoria Potion to take full effect and noticing his glass was empty, poured a large goblet of port. He removed his rings and placed them on the silver salver holding the port, loosened his tunic and ran his hand through his long, uncombed hair. He looked irritably toward the ceiling, hoping his psychotic sister-in-law's unbelievably loud screeching would subside soon. They had had yet another nonsensical confrontation. This time, his crime was allowing bread into the household from a Half-blood baker when the cook was on holiday.

'The Banshee' as he called her, had been an unwelcome guest in his home since she got out –was broken out– of prison. He himself went to prison the following year and when he returned several months later (also having been broken out) she was still there to his great disappointment. It had been wonderful while she was locked up, because even having the maniacal Banshee around a few times per year for the holidays was already insupportable. Having her there all the time, acting as if it were her home and she ran things, was nothing short of a living nightmare. The whole situation was a nightmare. The head Psychopath was alive and back and was using the Manor as his head-quarters to the delight of the Banshee and the anguish of the rest of the family – his greatest of all.

Things had reverted to nearly as bad as they had been back in the late 70's. Terrible, unspeakable things were happening at the Manor and the incidents grew ever more terrible with each passing day. Apart from the Banshee who served as a one Witch adoration committee for the Psycho and his usual lemmings, the lunatichad found himself a whole load of new lemmings (all sadistic –or otherwise mentally unstable– and/or completely weak, greedy and even more amazingly stupid and Magically impotent than the first set). All of them seemed to be under the impression that they were the new 2nd in command, which was just fine with him, except for the problem that the Psycho had it in for him now. He was holding malice with him for 'messing up' and it felt as though at any moment, he might be butchered just for someone's amusement, or worse Draco, or Narcissa would be (if not all of them together). There was no point in trying to stop any of it – not that he had the courage to try. Most days when he didn't have some place to be in particular, he would be so out of his head on potion, he could barely stand up straight. It was again the only way he could deal with the terror that had occurred during the first war and was happening all over again.

ANGELCAKERead this story for FREE!