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Lucius knew from the moment the first spark erupted across his arm he'd be killing someone today, he just didn't expect to do it in this way.

Kneeling alongside his sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange, and a little Half-blood welp named Wormtail, he listened to Voldemort's orders like a starved man eats honey.

"Lucius, I'll entrust you to release the Dementors in Diagon. Wormtail, I want you to find me the Potters and don't show your worthless hide until you do. Bella, my loyal servant, get rid of the Longbottoms."

They all chorused, "Yes my Lord."- their master sweeping away from them without another word, trusting they wouldn't mess up. Lest he have to kill them.

"I'll.. I'll have to convince them to switch." Wormtail muttered, Lucius, curling his lip at him. Disgusting waste of magic.

"Just don't fail," He said. "I don't want to have to live among filth any longer than I have to."

Squeaking, quite pathetically, Wormtail gave a quick nod. "Yes, right- You're absolutely right! I'll... I'll talk to Sirius, I can convince him I'm safer. He trusts me, I can use him."

"Just don't hurt my baby cousin," Bellatrix warned. "Auntie Burga needs him alive now that Reggie's dead."

"Right," Wormtail said, muttering a bit under his breath as he headed for the edge of the crypt, where he then shifted into his animagus form- a rat, a sniveling pathetic rat worthy of his Half-blood hide.

"Worried about dealing with the big bad scary Dementors?" Bellatrix asked, smiling wickedly at him.

"Not at all," Lucius replied. "It won't be difficult to pull a few strings with the guards at Azkaban, and the ministry is too far in the Dark Lords pocket after the attack in London to care. Honestly, he could have entrusted Severus to it."

Bellatrix scowled, "I'll never understand why you keep him around, he never even tries to make himself seemly."

"He knows his place," Lucius replied crisply. "Any ideas for the Longbottoms?"

Frowning, Bellatrix crossed her arms, "I was thinking the Killing curse would do, why?"

Shrugging, Lucius feigned disinterest. "Oh, no reason. It's just, you are going up against two of the Aurors best. Even if they might not be able to beat you in a duel, they're more than capable of holding you off while the other one runs away."

"I didn't consider that," Bellatrix said, a scowl shifting into place. "I can't rely on wards, lest they break them. What would you recommend?"

"A poison maybe?" Lucius said, "Maybe hit them with a few of your best crucios. Something to keep them from moving around too much."

Smiling, Bellatrix kissed his cheek, "Thank you, brother. I'll see you and Cissy at dinner."

"Tonight then." He said before he disappeared with a pop

It was freezing, even with several heating charms on his person.

Not even a normal kind of cold, no. It was the kind of cold that made your entire being shake like your very bones were covered in a thick layer of frost. The kind of freezing that made your very blood feel sluggish in your veins.

Davis Rooke, a decent Half-blood who owed Lucius a favor, roared across the sea, the horrible mob behind him enough to give any man nightmares.

Lucius hated Dementors, he truly did. The sick, awful feeling they gave him- every drop of blood, every life he ever took flashed through his mind when he was near them. They made him do something he didn't like to do, which was to think about his actions.

Sometimes, it was enough to make him consider just ending it all. Right then and there.

Rooke said few words, simply handing him the charmed flute which would allow him to control the Dementors. Give them their orders like a proper warden.

"I'd do it myself," Rooke said. "But the Dark Lord requested this of you, my Lord. I've helped all I can, but I can't do more without risk of disobeying him."

Giving the man a reluctant, but approving nod, Lucius said, "You will be rewarded for this. Go, go back to Azkaban and tell no one what has happened."

Rooke needed no further prompting, because, as it stands, the shoreline had more Dementors than Azkaban at the moment.

Wiping the tip of the flute, Lucius blew in and gave them their first orders, 'Follow me.'

Approaching Diagon Alley Lucius felt a churn of unease his gut. The same anxiety he'd often feel over whether he should pick a) or b) on an exam sheet, or when he had to decide whether or not to take the mark, but elevated to a thousand.

This wasn't just murder, this was damning countless to eternal severing. Damning them to be lifeless husks of their former selves, to forever sever their souls from their bodies.

It would turn the tide of the war, show just how powerful they were, how capable they were. But, most importantly, it would show the world just how far they were willing to go for their cause.

But was Lucius really willing?

"They're just Half-bloods.." Lucius muttered, teeth shattering. "Just filthy mudbloods… Blood traitors."

Filth, they're just filth. He chanted to himself as he brought the pipe to his lips, they're nothing

He hesitated for only a second before he did it, before he gave out the fatal order. 'Kiss everyone you see in that alley, no exceptions.'

A loud whooshing was heard as hundreds- no thousands of Dementors flew overhead , passing by like a small maelstrom, blowing Lucius's mask and hood right off as they stormed the shopping center below. Barely any of them had even reached Diagon before the screams started.

Howling, horrible wails floated through the air, and Lucius could only stare blankly.

They're just filth. He repeated, over and over. Just worthless worms beneath my feet.

The words, What about Severus? Certainly didn't enter his mind, and neither did Does he deserve this?

No, it didn't cross his mind. Lucius only wondered if he could have sent a Dementor after him, had Voldemort ordered him, could have had Severus Kissed so readily? Lucius was almost scared by how immediate the words, Of course, rang through his fucked- up mind. Of course, I'd damn my friend to hell

As horrible as the screams were, the silence was nearly unbearable.

The Dementors would stay down there for a while, looking for anyone who was hidden. Lucius had placed anti apparation wards all around the Alley, making it so no one could leave. Any survivors would soon be snuffed out, and then it would truly be silent.

He could stop it, Lucius knew. Save the last few, be their hero. But then what? They'd just as soon be killed after the Dark Lord realized what he'd done, then he'd ensure Lucius along with his entire family died a grizzly death. Perhaps he'd have them kissed, his dark master would probably find the irony amusing.

It was in the name of self-preservation, he decided. No one could really fault him for that. For Draco, Narcissa, and his father- people, human beings who mattered- he'd kill anyone and damn anyone for them. Not... Not the filth hiding like scared sheep below his feet.

Turning, Lucius decided he'd stuck around long enough. A ministry official could clean this up later, it was no longer his problem. He'd done his job.

Lucius smiled when he walked in through the door, Narcissa playing the piano with Draco in her lap, leaning against his mummy's stomach

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, Lucius kissed the top of her head. "Have you been alright by yourselves?"

Smiling, Narcissa leaned into him, turning to look her husband in the eyes. "We're better with you here, what did the Dark Lord want?"

Lucius's lip twitched, he didn't particularly want to go over the exact details. "I had to get rid of a few pests."

Narcissa seemed to get the hint, offering him a sympathetic smile before turning back to the smiling boy in her lap, "I think he has your eyes."

"Our eyes are the same color, no?"

Shaking her head, Narcissa grinned. "Mine are silver, your's are grey. My father used to say that grey eyes have a more black undertone, while silver eyes are more white."

Leaning forwards, Lucius smiled. "You're right, they are like mine."

"He's beautiful," Narcissa said. "He looks so much like you."

Nuzzling her neck, Lucius murmured, "You're beautiful."

Draco giggled, reaching up and tugging on his daddy's long hair. Earning a smile from Lucius, the coldness of the Dementors finally starting to slip away.

Looking at his son, smiling up at him without a care in his little world Lucius supposed it didn't really matter if what he did was right or wrong; he was making the world a better place, and that's all that matters. Means be damned.

Draco would have a future, one where he needn't bloody his hands or lower himself just to function in the same world as mudblood filth. One ruled by Voldemort, where people knew their proper places.

Some might call this the end, but Lucius liked to think of it as the beginning.