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When Lucius first saw Sasha, he thought she was nothing more then a skinny little girl. There was certainly nothing remarkable about her appearance, except maybe her huge blue eyes. It was not until about five years later that he began to notice her in "that way." Still, he would never have admitted that he found a half-blood attractive.
Sasha had been in Lucius' own house (Slytherin), but had mostly consorted with Severus Snape. Small and scrawny, she was nonetheless pursued by every male (and some females) in her year and even some of the older years. Lucius, himself, had never seen the appeal in the little half-blood until she promptly broke his nose for bullying another Muggle born.
Ah. Here she came now, dressed in a blood red Muggle dress. Her black hair flowed over her thin shoulders, the tiny diamond earrings she always wore glimmering in the late afternoon sunlight. Peter Pettigrew followed quickly behind. Lucius sneered. Pettigrew was a right prat. Always kissing up to Sasha and her fiance. Everyone disliked Pettigrew except for Sasha and oddly, Severus.
"What shall I make, Peter? Do you think everyone would like some oatmeal cookies?" Sasha's voice was like music. Lucius didn't hear what Pettigrew replied. His only concern was the woman in front of him.
He wanted to fuck her. Possess her. Have her submit only to him, but he couldn't. He couldn't have the one and only woman that had ever drove him utterly mad.
She was, after all, the bride of Lord Voldemort.