Two boys in a snake den

A wrinkly lover

Lucius cannot remember the moment he fell in love with her, but he was certain it the was the most powerful and primitive emotion that had ever filled his icy, dark heart.

The way she would glide, so gracefully, across the marble floors of the manor. She commanded every one of his senses with her subtle, sensual whispers.

Her languid, fluid movements never failed to draw his eye, and the eyes of those around him. Yet for some, indiscernible reason, she only had space for one in her heart, a space he had hoped to occupy for some time.

He'd watched her, lusted for her, for far too long. Yet this attraction went far beyond physical, he felt a connection worthy of soulmates, not that he had ever believed in such drivel.

In the short, fleeting moments he would catch her alone, they would talk in hushed voices and muffled words:

"Nagini," Lucius whispered, "I've been mourning your absence here lately."

Nagini's forked tongue flickered for a moment, before she hissed longingly.

"I know my dear," he replied, reaching out a pale hand to grace across her flat, scaly head. "The Dark lord's demands are of the highest importance, but I do regret how they keep you from me."

The replying hiss was cut short by a large resounding crash, coming from the dining room.

Lucius drew himself to stand hurriedly, made his way across the long, cold corridors, and was greeted with a sight far beyond his own comprehension;

His wife, Narcissa, lying spread eagled across his favourite leather chair, screaming out in pleasure as a result of the wrinkled head buried between her elegant legs.

A tattered tea cosy lay abandoned on the marble floor, upon seeing the fabric and colour he could only conclude it was a former ally who had betrayed him;

Dobby.

The crash had clearly been caused by a painting lying nearby, knocked over in the kerfuffle of their lurid sexual acts, a painting that struck a pang of heartbreak inside Lucius, as he had painted it himself. It was a rather accurate portrayal of a nude Narcissa, lying sensually on a bed of silk, amongst various fruits and bottles of goblin made wine.

"Dobby!" He yelled, savage as Nagini feasting on his arse at dawn.

The little elf  lifted his head from between the folds of his wife's private area, only to anger Lucius more, as  his face was damp and smug.

"How dare you show your face in my home, after Potter's freeing you so long ago, only for you to come back and defile my wife so openly."

The elf had an infuriating smile lifting the corners of his mouth, he slowly licked across his lips, before saying in the most disrespectful manner to his former master; "Dobby is a free elf, he takes' what he wants, and what Dobby wants is Mistress Narcissa's cubbyhole."

Then, without warning, he disappeared with a small pop, leaving an angrily, red-faced Lucius, and a now haphazardly dressed Narcissa.

Lucius turned away slowly, a single tear rolling down his pink cheek, attempting to stifle his desperate sobs.

It was that moment that affirmed his love for Nagini, the comfort he took from her scaly touch slowly stitched the wounds created by his whore wife.

Yet, unbeknownst to Lucius, that was not the only betrayal he would face in the coming months.