As soon as the dark haired man stepped into the room, Lucius Malfoy knew
that his day had come. It was in the eyes, he decided. The man's eyes
were dark brown, almost black. They were the eyes of a killer, not by
nature but by career. Yet, there was a curious note of respect in them,
respect that was directed towards Lucius, the man he was hired to kill.
"A Muggle?" the soft voice had drawled.
Lucius turned his head slightly towards his left. Voldemort was speaking.
"What might a Muggle be doing here?" the voice held a hint of malicious amusement.
Lucius suppressed a sigh. Of course Voldemort would assume that the man was a Muggle. As usual, they had chosen well. Briefly, he wondered how they would kill him. Would they choose a practical way, or a creative way? One could never tell with them. Unlike most organised crime, they were entirely unpredictable.
The man walked slowly up the long hall, his eyes scanning from side to side with each step. "I am no Muggle," an emotionless tone. He had an accent. European. Possibly French.
A dry cackling laugh erupted from Voldemort's white lips. "He says he is not a Muggle!" The Death Eaters, Lucius included, echoed his laughter. But there was no mirth in the air. "I am in a good humour today. What do you want, he-who-is-not-a-Muggle?"
"I want for nothing," the implied comment hung in the air.
"What are you doing here then?"
"To kill Lucius Malfoy."
Lucius heard a faint drawing of breath beside him. Then those terrible red eyes turned and stared into his own. He fought to keep his face empty. Their training came into handy after all; too bad it was against one of their own.
"And why would I let you kill one of my own loyal Death E -" Voldemort blanched.
The gun had seemingly come out of nowhere and was now pointed at him.
"If you are no Muggle, why do you use a Muggle weapon?" The Dark Lord asked.
"They are much quicker. More efficient. No chance of. mistakes," the assassin smiled and cocked the weapon.
Fear began to show on Lucius' face. Not fear of death, he had gotten over that fear long ago, but fear of what would happen to his wife and child. Narcissa, his beautiful wife. He sought her eyes in the crowd of Death Eaters. There they were, strong as usual but tinged with fear. He saw her mouthing his name and he smiled back sadly. Goodbye my darling.
"Kill that man," Voldemort ordered. The crowd of Death Eaters surged forward but not before a single shot rang out crystal clear.
Lucius slumped forward on his chair, his silver robes stained with blood.
"Lucius! Noooo!"
He could hear Narcissa's voice over the din. He tried to smile but failed. The smell of his blood grew stronger as his sight grew dimmer. Finally, all was black before Lucius Malfoy's eyes.
"A Muggle?" the soft voice had drawled.
Lucius turned his head slightly towards his left. Voldemort was speaking.
"What might a Muggle be doing here?" the voice held a hint of malicious amusement.
Lucius suppressed a sigh. Of course Voldemort would assume that the man was a Muggle. As usual, they had chosen well. Briefly, he wondered how they would kill him. Would they choose a practical way, or a creative way? One could never tell with them. Unlike most organised crime, they were entirely unpredictable.
The man walked slowly up the long hall, his eyes scanning from side to side with each step. "I am no Muggle," an emotionless tone. He had an accent. European. Possibly French.
A dry cackling laugh erupted from Voldemort's white lips. "He says he is not a Muggle!" The Death Eaters, Lucius included, echoed his laughter. But there was no mirth in the air. "I am in a good humour today. What do you want, he-who-is-not-a-Muggle?"
"I want for nothing," the implied comment hung in the air.
"What are you doing here then?"
"To kill Lucius Malfoy."
Lucius heard a faint drawing of breath beside him. Then those terrible red eyes turned and stared into his own. He fought to keep his face empty. Their training came into handy after all; too bad it was against one of their own.
"And why would I let you kill one of my own loyal Death E -" Voldemort blanched.
The gun had seemingly come out of nowhere and was now pointed at him.
"If you are no Muggle, why do you use a Muggle weapon?" The Dark Lord asked.
"They are much quicker. More efficient. No chance of. mistakes," the assassin smiled and cocked the weapon.
Fear began to show on Lucius' face. Not fear of death, he had gotten over that fear long ago, but fear of what would happen to his wife and child. Narcissa, his beautiful wife. He sought her eyes in the crowd of Death Eaters. There they were, strong as usual but tinged with fear. He saw her mouthing his name and he smiled back sadly. Goodbye my darling.
"Kill that man," Voldemort ordered. The crowd of Death Eaters surged forward but not before a single shot rang out crystal clear.
Lucius slumped forward on his chair, his silver robes stained with blood.
"Lucius! Noooo!"
He could hear Narcissa's voice over the din. He tried to smile but failed. The smell of his blood grew stronger as his sight grew dimmer. Finally, all was black before Lucius Malfoy's eyes.