Much like the myth of Sisyphus, forever burdened by the depth of his punishment, she must learn self-control from him⎯perhaps now, before the ground slips away beneath her feet. Yet she remains nothing more than a deceived girl, cruelly played by a soulless serpent.

The crackling of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room tolls like a tocsin against her temples, making her grimace in pain. Her hands tremble over her belly, as if trying to protect herself. The fingers nervously twisting the fabric between them.

Lucius stands at the window, gazing out into the rainy night. His reflection in the mirror reveals dishevelled hair and dark circles beneath his eyes. However, his grey eyes remain as coldly thoughtful as ever. She is a problem, for one word from her could unravel his perfectly ordered future.

He exhales slowly.

This girl is unimportant, just another one of many clinging to him in the hope that Lucius will choose to tie his perfect life to hers. How presumptuous, it makes him smile bitterly. After all, he does not care that his charm and gentlemanly manners exist solely so someone else will whine his name into the pillow at night.

But missteps happen: drunken embraces, soft laughter⎯and an unprotected fun. His mistake. And oh, he refuses to acknowledge it; would sooner bite his tongue clean off. He is a Lucius, curse him.

He runs a hand through his wild hair, yanking it back sharply, as if trying to restore some sense of order.

His eyes remain indifferent as he steps forward, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he looms over the sobbing girl. “I won't let this ruin me,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Do you understand? My engagement to Cissa is set. Our families⎯ my family⎯ are planning the wedding. As soon as this year is over. I'll get married. It”⎯ he gestures sharply at her with a flick of his hand⎯ “will not stand in my way.”

Lucius takes her chin, no longer gentle, making her meet his gaze. “But be that as it may, I'll help you get rid of this problem financially.”