Disclaimer: 'The Secret Tower' is an ongoing 'Harry Potter' fanfic series, and is not meant to be an exact replica of the original series. With the exception of a few, all characters were created by, and are property of, J.K. Rowling, author of the original 'Harry Potter' series. I claim no rights to any persons, places, or spells depicted in this story that were originally penned by Mrs. Rowling; only to those that are of my own creation.
Fifteen Years Ago
Lucius Malfoy was a wanted man. He had made a fatal error of judgement when he placed the Imperious Curse on the young man late that night. He should have realized that the boy belonged to the Villdawicks, but he had been so caught up in his enthusaistic attempt to recruit yet another to the service of his Dark Lord that he hadn't even noticed the medallion that the boy wore, the mark of the Vills. Had he known, he surely wouldn't have dared such a dangerous attempt. But now, he was a wanted man, a hunted man, for the Vills had a very nasty streak in their bloodline, and to muck with one of their own is to muck with them all. Revenge was to be sought, Lucius had no doubt of that. The question was, how was he going to avoid being killed as a means of it?
He paced the floor in the tiny, run-down rowhouse, his footsteps causing the narrow, half-rotted floorboards to creak, his thoughts swirling around in his head at an alarming rate. The baby had stopped crying. His little family was in danger, he knew it, for once he was found here they would come to get him, and they would spare no mercy for the innocent woman and child in the bedroom upstairs. Biting his lip, he stared into the fire, as though looking for an answer to his problems within the dancing flames.
A sound outside made him jump. He spun round on his heel and his eyes fixed on a tiny light outside the main front window. Had he just seen a shadow? His breath caught in his throat, and he knew they were there. His mind racing, he looked around for something to use for protection. His wand in his hand, though he knew it would do no good in the face of the Vills' rage. The sound of breaking glass, a loud thud from upstairs and the baby began shrieking again. Instinct made him run up the steps, taking them two at a time, and into the bedroom at the end of the hall.
They had beaten him there. His golden-haired love lie on the floor, her neck at an odd angle, blood oozing from a tiny wound on her throat. The baby - oh, Merlin's beard, the baby! - in the hands of an exceptionally ugly middle-aged woman. The woman grinned sickeningly at him, her fangs glistening in the firelight.
"A babe for a babe," she growled, her deep voice resembling the rattle of a poisonous snake. With that, the baby still howling in her arms, she turned and leapt out the broken window, and disappeared into the night.
Lucius jumped over his darling's body and ran for the window, but they were out of sight by the time he reached it. Fear and grief filling him to the core, he sucked in a deep breath and screamed his child's name out into the night sky:
"CASSIUS!"
Sobs of dread raking his body, he sank to the floor beside his beloved Margeurite. He cradled her head in his lap, brushed her hair from her lovely face, and looked down into her dead, staring eyes. "Darling, darling, they've taken our baby. It's too late, I'm so sorry..." After taking a moment to collect himself, he gently closed her eyes with his hand, and rose to his feet. He pulled a coverlet from the bed and used it to cover her body with, then, without saying another word, turned and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.
It was time to go home.
His wife and son would be wondering where he'd gone to...