Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and I do not. It is a simple fact of life.

Harry Potter and the Unknown Ally


"Why do I have to do inventory?" muttered Lucius, holding a torch that attempted to extinguish itself after every second step. High time Narcissa did this job. He reached the bottom of the cellar-steps and stared into the darkness before continuing northward.

He found his way through the goliathan cellar into a small depository of dark artifacts, his face sweaty and eyes blurred from the long walk down steep steps, through the darkness, and the intense heat of the torch close to his skin. But if he was honest it was his lifetime of dealing with Dark Artifacts and Darker Lords. He was tired, burnt out, a charred husk of his former self. He wanted an end to it all; family was the only thing that stopped him from vanishing from Wizarding Britain.

Lucius picked up the black diary, propped up on a small silver mantelpiece. He felt nothing. That was odd. He had suspected it to be much worse than simply cursed - the Dark Lord had indicated that this was a rare treasure.

He put it down then lifted it again, repeating the cycle twice before checking the rest of the inventory and carrying the book back to the surface. Lucius wanted to know its true nature, and he would be damned if he let such an artifact linger in his manor without divining its secrets. Not to mention the difficulties that seem to need dealing with whenever another tiny piece of evidence suggested that the imperius curse was not the reason for Lucius's behaviours in the past.

Lucius turned, scaled stairs and gestured with his wand for doors to open, all without looking up from the diary. He turned the book over in hand and examined the back, finding nothing of note save for the name.

Property of Tom Marvolo Riddle, 1951. He read the words over and over again. The Dark Lord's discarded name. Voldemort was not one sentimental keepsakes of his former life, having despised his dual heritage. So why keep a diary, of that name, dated to his time in Hogwarts? Lucius reached his private study.

Sitting at his desk he paused, contemplating the situation. A book with no instructions or inherent magic upon touching it, at a glance nothing more than a diary. Bought from what he could tell to be muggle London.

"What mysteries do you hold?" He thought to himself, arms crossed, slightly puzzled. "Why did the Dark Lord keep you for so long? Why did he give you to me?"

Lucius drew his wand and pointed it towards the double door, wordlessly locked. A faint jet of silver light touched the door before being absorbed into it. Now he could ruminate without his mewling offspring bothering him.

The wand was now pointed towards the book, aimed directly at the centre of the black leather cover. Lucius cast a basic revealing charm. Nothing happened. Not that he had expected the Dark Lord's work to be revealed by a first-year spell. He cast another more powerful charm and again nothing happened. He opened the book, staring at the sallow blank pages. No magic seemed to be imbued within the book itself.

He allowed himself to ponder without words, his mind forming images that pleased him. He could think of a thousand minor mischiefs, but his mind kept tugging at him. This was not a trifle. Maybe it was beyond him. .

"Maybe it isn't magic at all." He mused, his wand hand resting on the desk. He lifted it and cast a silent aparenium. Still nothing. he sighed into his palm and closed the book. The Dark Lord had not been fond of riddles after all. Lucius was ashamed of his poor efforts.

An impatient knock rang from the double door. He ignored it, still staring at the diary; the Dark Lord was insane but he was still a genius. This book would require such thinking. Arrogant as he was, Lucius knew that the Dark Lord's mind was more finely tuned than his own. He decided to allow himself a break and relaxed the charms on the door.

"Come in." said Lucius, opening top drawer in his desk and sliding the diary in. The doorknob twisted and turned but the door refused to open. It moaned as it was forced to remain in place.

"It wont open." groaned the child's voice.

"Ah, one moment." Lucius turned his wand to the door cancelling the spell. "now try."

"Finally," drawled Draco. The boy strutted into the large study as if he owned it and was master of its contents.

Lucius cringed inwardly. He examined his son, silver blonde hair just like his own. Grey eyes staring directly into his. He noted the false cunning and manipulation that his son had learned over the last year.

"Father, I have a request only befitting the Lord of house Malfoy." The boy tried to flatter him while still trying to remain aloof. Lucius raised an eyebrow beckoning his son to continue. "Well father as you know, the nimbus two thousand and one has just been released. The fastest racing broom yet."

"It certainly has." He gestured for his son to resume. Of course he already knew where this tangent was going, too predictable.

"Well I've only got a two thousand... like that damn Potter."

"Draco haven't I told you that it would be best if you make friends with Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, the chosen one, vanquisher of he-who-must-not-be-named?" Lucius rose from his chair and turned to look out of the window into the garden beyond. "I expect my heir to have a Slytherin's insight into the goings on of the world. Such skills are required in maintaining the presence of the house of Malfoy."

Lucius turned back to face Draco, he saw himself in miniature. Where had he gone wrong? Narcissa had spoilt the child rotten and he had allowed it, buying any gift for the slightest thing, on the slightest whim.

"Father why do you continuously harp on about Potter?" Draco drawled, "He's just a halfblood."

Lucius fought the urge to sigh. He brought his hands down onto his desk and stared at his son. How was he to impart the wisdom of his years-and his failures-on to one that doesn't understand the basics of politics? There was no helping it, he sat back down resigned to play upon the whims of his son.

"You were talking about the nimbus?"

"Oh yes," Draco's face lit up again, "well with that broom I could make seeker this year; but we can guarantee it by buying them for the entire team."

Where could I have gone so wrong? Lucius rubbed his palms on the temples of his head, it did nothing to stop his growing headache.

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you father."

Lucius nodded and gestured for his son to leave. Draco did so obediently. The door closed with a thud, and the smile slid from his face in an instant. Today was going to be long and tedious.


Lucius glowered at the last of Minister Fudge's letters as he dipped a silver quill into an inkwell. His fingers were numb from the numerous replies he had written assuring Fudge of his support on this and that issue; advising him on how move forward as minister. Fudge held a great deal of political power and had no idea how to wield it effectively. Always falling back Lucius' money and influence or the advice of Dumbledore. An utter incompetent.

The irony wasn't lost on Lucius, he was too clever by half for that. It greatly hurt think that if he had not been brought into into the Dark Lord's fold by his father-Abarax-he no doubt would be minister instead of Fudge. His father wasn't the only cause for his youthful 'evils', it was also the hubris of his youth and pride as a pureblood.

He should be happy, the minister useless, relying upon him. It was the perfect opportunity to re-establish himself in the political hierarchy and he used it, but it was all so draining. The constant owls and floo calls, interrupting his business for the most negligible of tasks. He quickly drafted a reply not giving his answer much thought.

Of course minister, the issue will be resolved in the Wizengamot. All the old pureblood families will vote in your favour, which they will do at my behest. I am glad to be of service to you and I hope that, should you need anything, you will remember my loyalty.

He opened an envelope leading with his better hand, folded the the response and set it inside sealing the envelope with wax before sending it to the minister's office by Owl.

Pop. A small house elf with orb-like eyes and overly large ears appeared in the study just as Lucius began pulling the diary from the drawer. He gave a small start and the froze in place as if caught red handed in some childish act. He quickly recovered, annoyed.

"Yes Dobby?" He closed the drawer and turned his head to face the elf.

The elf bowed, his nose touching the carpet.

"Master Lucius, dinner is ready and Lady Narcissa has requested your company." Dobby flinched as Lucius' eyebrows furrowed. He waved the elf to continue. "She says you must come-" and from what Lucius could tell she had said more only meant for Dobby.

"I understand. But Dobby you must remember not to enter my study without my express permission." Before Lucius could stop him the elf stormed head first into a wall. Hitting it with an almighty crunch.

The elf recovered and began to hit his head against the wall again and again, each time harder than the last.

"Bad Dobby! bad Dobby!" Wailed the elf. "Dobby has failed Master Lucius."

"Stop. I order you to Stop Dobby. Stop!"

The elf froze, his features transfixed as if petrified. The only movement in the room came from the trickle of blood running down the elf's forehead. The blood pittered and patterned against the carpeted floor, staining it.

"You will not punish yourself for disturbing me and entering my chambers unannounced." He made sure to leave out the fact that the elf had dirtied the room with his blood. He did not care if the elf punished himself so long as it wasn't in his presence. "I'll be down for dinner shortly. Now begone."

With another pop the elf was gone. Lucius strode towards the wall Dobby had bludgeoned his head against. The blood was slowly congealing on the stone and soaking into the carpet, he examined it disgusted. He saw house elves as lower beings, but Dobby was something else.

"Scourgify." lucius murmured pointing his wand at the mess. It vanished and he returned to his desk satisfied. The small thing always help.

Lucius locked the drawer first with a key then his wand. he exited the room locking the doors in the same manner. It was secure enough that no one should be able to enter while he ate dinner. He would let the book rest on the shoots of his thoughts - the roots could deal with the dinner conversation.

He pushed the dining room doors open; he was greated by the sight of his wife and son sitting at either side of his place at the head of the long ornate dining table. It was covered in a white cloth lined with green and silver. The cloth in turn was covered with silver goblets and fine china and silverware.

He sat at the head of the table, looked at Draco to his left and then Narrisca to his right. They both smiled at him: hers was small and measured, his son's filled with unsuppressed glee.

"Good evening darling." Narcissa placed a single hand atop Lucius' giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Good evening." Lucius looked into her eyes, sharp and frosty cold. She was unhappy about something, what it was he did not know. He was the one that had to do inventory. "How have you been my dear?" He used one of his easy smiles.

This was the wrong thing to do and he knew it in an instant. The cold in his wife's eyes deepened, her grip tightened, but only for a moment. Whatever he had or hadn't done it was grave.

"Well my dear you should know or should I say should've. " Her eyes still blizzardous, bore into his, but her voice was menacingly calm. "We that is to say, the two of us, had a social appointment with some prominent pureblood families. You left me to deal with the boring older generation by myself. For five hours I was addled by boredom with no one for company."

Lucius winced, that calm voice bore the full fury of his wife. He knew there would be more than an just icy telling off. He tried to best explain why he hadn't come on time or even at all but he couldn't explain it. The diary no than thirty minutes at the most, his sons meeting no more than five, the letters an hour and a half per usual. Where had three hours gone?

"I'm sorry my darling. Left alone to my musings time was allowed to wander unguided." Three hours unaccounted for but why? Luscious tried to think about the blank period all he felt was vague pain in his writing hand nothing else.

"Well, you will make up for it later." She removed her hand from his and then continued to speak. "Draco said you will be buying him a new broom and a matching set for the Slytherin Quidditch team. It is certainly very generous of you and will provide a chance for them to right their grievous quidditch form.."

"I'm glad that you sympathise." He turned his head towards his son and his stupid grin. "Draco we will be getting yours on the trip to Diagon Alley before schools starts and the teams will be delivered after tryouts. We must be sure that the members of the team are best suited to their individual brooms."

Draco paled and Lucius smiled inwardly, Draco was surely going to try and use the brooms as leverage for his appointment as seeker. He could still do it if he thought to promise them after the trials but was his son smart enough to do so?

"Yes father, I agree." Draco's smile had dropped. " Maybe we could at least get the captain his before then he's surely not going to be replaced."

"We will not take chances."

"Yes father."

Draco looked down into his empty silver plate defeated. Lucius clapped for dinner, victorious, it wasn't much of a victory his son was still getting the brooms but it was the small things that count. This may even teach his son a lesson in cunning. Silver linings and such.

Where one moment the plates were empty now they were adorned with a large variety of foodstuffs. Lucius was pleased as he looked down the table to see all of his favourite dining delicacies; say one thing for house elves say they are magnificent cooks.

He lifted his knife and fork, took the first bite and then gestured for the others to do the same. They did following his lead as a sign of table manners and respect.

The head of house Malfoy and his family ate dinner in mutual silence. No gossip was shared, no words spoken as they ate, using all of the appropriate utensils, when required. As they finished one dish it was replaced with another. Soon they were done: food, plates and most of the goblets vanished into thin air.

They shared a silent toast. Drank and left the table one by one.

"Narcissa I'll be in my study a little longer. I'll join you in our chambers shortly."

She nodded before turning in her black robes and exiting the dining hall, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

"Three hours, three hours. What could I have done in that time?" Lucius said, vocalising his thoughts. He racked his brains, combed his mind and all he could think of was writing and books. It clicked and he left the room for his study.

He disenchanted the doors, used alohomora in place of the key. He took the book from the drawer placing it on the desk, the black leather colder than the mahogany desk.

Lucius inked the same silver quill he had used before, opened the diary and wrote in the book.

Hello Tom riddle.